Page 31 of Stuck with My Bossy Protector

“I don’t think the other part of what we did had anything to do with body temperature.”

He grins. “But it was a lot more fun. Physical activity saved us. Got our blood pumping.”

“Oh, yeah, it did.

“How did you end up flying planes in Alaska?”

Noah smiles faintly. “Well, I grew up in Fairbanks. I thought I would go into the Navy or the Air Force and be a fighter pilot. Turns out you have to do a lot more than jump in a cockpit. And they have a lot of rules.”

“You don’t like rules?” I tease.

“Not so much. And I may have a couple of unpleasant oopsies on my record. The recruiter I talked to told me there was no way I would ever be a fighter pilot, but he was happy to sign me up for the infantry.”

“You didn’t want to do that?”

“No,” he laughs. “I was almost willing to walk the straight and narrow if it meant I got to fly. When he said I couldn’t be a pilot, I knew that was not for me.”

“You were that serious about flying?”

“If there were a way to surgically implant wings on my back, I would do it.”

I laugh at his comment, finding comfort in the easy friendship that was forming between us. The sound of it surprises me. It felt strange, yet liberating, to allow myself a moment of joy in this situation.

“I guess it’s safe to say you’re living your dream then?” I ask. Even in the dim glow of the dying fire, I see his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, seemingly deep in thought. “I guess you could say that. I’m my own boss. I get paid to fly when I would do it for free.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when it comes time to pay your fee,” I grin. “So you’ve been doing this for a while.”

“Yes and no. I knew I wanted my own plane, but I also knew it would cost more than I could make at any other job. So, I went fishing.”

“Fishing?” I ask with confusion.

“After high school, I worked on a crabbing boat for a couple of years. It was tough work, but I managed to save enough to buy my own plane.”

I nod, impressed. “That must have been quite an experience. How long have you been flying?”

He scratches his chin, thinking. “Over ten years now.”

“You make a lot of money on those crabbing boats, don’t you? I’ve seen some of the documentaries on TV. That is some very dangerous work.”

“It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it and don’t do anything stupid,” he shrugs.

I have a feeling it is a little more than that. “It sounds crazy to me. And scary. But I guess it can’t be any scarier than flying one of those little planes into some pretty isolated territories.”

“I’ve had my fair share of emergency landings, but nothing quite like last night. That storm came out of nowhere.”

I shiver involuntarily, remembering the terror of being caught in the blizzard. I can hear the seriousness in his voice. “Yeah, it was intense. I’m just glad we made it here in one piece.”

“I’ve flown around storms, through them, but none of them were that bad. It’s part of the job out here, though. You never know what Mother Nature’s going to throw at you.”

“Sounds like your life is quite the adventure,” I comment, trying to keep my voice steady. There’s a pause as we stare into the flickering flames, lost in our thoughts.

“Sometimes it is,” he admits with a quiet sigh. “Other times, it can be pretty lonely.”

His confession surprises me. I turn to look at him. His face is half-lit in the firelight, shadows dancing across his rugged features. He seems far away, so deep in thought that I almost don’t want to break the silence.

“But you’re used to being alone?” I venture, hoping I haven’t crossed a line. He glances at me, a strange vulnerability in his eyes. “Yeah, you could say that.”

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