Page 23 of Come Fly with Me

She smiles at me and it’s sincere and genuine. I feel myself let out a quiet sigh of relief.

His sister.

“And Elise, this is Taylor Patterson. I sit next to her in the cockpit while she flies the plane.” He winks at me, and I chuckle a little at his cheeky description of our jobs. I extend a hand, and she shakes it.

“It’s really nice to meet you. Jake rarely brings anyone around to meet us.” The eye roll rivals the one I’ve perfected, and she gives Jake a shove as she slips out of the booth. “Your usual?” she asks.

“Yep.”

My fingers slide up and down the stem of the wine glass, a silence passing between us. Jake reaches over, his fingers following the path of mine. His touch causes goosebumps to rise on my skin, and for a split second, I lose myself in the emerald green of his beautiful eyes. I swallow hard and attempt to regain my composure.

“So your sister, huh? You know you could’ve come to visit her without me.”

“Do you not want to be here with me?”

“Of course I do…” Why the fuck did I just say that?

“What?” he asks, his voice going up an octave at the end in a teasing manner, obviously catching me in my admission.

“Stop it. Don’t be a jerk. Now tell me about your family.” My words come out in a rush in the hopes that he doesn’t start to ask me questions.

“Okay then. Way to change the subject.” He winks at me but plays along. “Elise is my oldest sister, and she opened this place about seven years ago. She had this crazy idea about making pizza long and narrow rather than in circles. It’s like a flatbread but even longer, a novel concept that people like. She’s been pretty successful.”

“That’s really cool. I’m totally in support of badass women and pizza.” This time it’s me winking at him, and I let my fingers brush over his as his hand rests on the table. “Any other brothers or sisters?”

“Yep, another sister. She’s here in Sydney too.”

“Where do you fall in this whole mix?”

“I’m the baby,” he tells me, a sweet but sinister smile on his face, and it makes me laugh.

“Oh, that explains everything,” I say dramatically, giving him my signature eye roll.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The appalling tone in his voice is loud and clear, but the smile on his face says he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“The baby, spoiled rotten and able to get away with everything.”

His mouth falls open in mock surprise as he slowly shakes his head. “Never.”

I pick up my wine, my eyes focusing on him over the rim of my glass as I take a drink. The tension between us accelerates, this teasing thing we have going seems to play on both of our attractions to each other.

“How’d you end up in the Air Force?” I ask, changing the subject before it falls to something far more seductive than I’m ready for.

“My father was in the Air Force. He went to the academy, and I followed in his footsteps. I always wanted to fly planes, so it seemed like the right move.” He pauses, taking a drink, and as he does, I watch his mouth, his lips tinted when he pulls the glass away, his tongue darting out a little to lick them. “It was hard though. I grew up here in Sydney, and suddenly I was living in the States.”

“Wait, what? You were in the American Air Force? I just assumed you were in the Australian Defence Force.”

“Yeah. I needed a change. After spending my whole life living on an island, and being eighteen, I wanted to branch out. My dad is American, and my mum is Australian, so I have dual citizenship, and Colorado seemed like a world away.”

“That explains your accent.” It’s something I noticed immediately upon meeting him, a hint of Aussie mixed with American. It’s hot, but Aussie accents usually are.

“It does, but it’s got nothing on yours.”

“I don’t have an accent!” I shout appalled as I’ve worked really damn hard to lose it. That and adding “eh” to the end of sentences like all good Minnesotans do.

“You don’t say, eh?” Jake jokes, and I laugh out loud at his forced Minnesota lingo. I shift my foot under the table, giving him a little kick in the shin, but he hooks his foot around my ankle.

My breath catches in my throat at the contact, and I bite down on my bottom lip, but it does nothing to quell the feeling that ignites between my legs.

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