Page 41 of Come Fly with Me

“You think she’ll consider kissing me? I’m like a teenage boy, waiting for the moment she lets me get to first base.”

“Well, she might since that sorta kiss left her all hot and bothered last night.”

“Whoa! Hold up one second. Hot and bothered?”

I giggle and shake my head, standing up. I take my coffee and head toward the door without acknowledging his question. I like this game we have going on, this playful banter and harmless flirting. It reminds me of a time when starting a relationship was fun and it wasn’t just about how quickly I could hop in the sack with someone, totally free of any feelings. Sleeping around had its time and place, but there’s something to be said for pining after someone and the intensity of the wait.

Jake jogs up behind me, his hand slipping around my elbow as he slows me down and with his lips brushing my cheek, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck, he says, “If you think that kiss got you hot, you should see what I can do with my tongue.”

And even though my heart is racing and between my thighs suddenly feels like someone lit it on fire, I lean in and murmur back, “You should see what I can do with my tongue.”

Jake lets out a hard breath; his hands plunging into his pockets as he shifts around a little, making me laugh.

We check in with our dispatcher, check the weather and get everything ready for departure. Both of us are back to being totally professional. Despite this, I’m finding it hard to concentrate; Jake’s flirting has me reeling and almost desperate to say fuck it and throw myself at him.

When we finally reach our cruising altitude and we’ve checked our path and location over the Pacific Ocean, I look over at Jake and ask, “So care to tell me how you ended up on my flight?”

“You sure you don’t like a little mystery in your life?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Jake laughs out loud, and I smile at him, even though my answer was short and clipped.

“Most women would love it if a guy systematically rearranged his schedule and called in favors and finagled things just so he could be with her.” He shrugs his shoulders, cocking an eyebrow at me as if he’s looking for me to swoon, but even he knows that won’t happen.

“I’m not most women.”

“Oh, and you have no idea how fucking hot that is.”

Even though I know I won’t have a lot of time in Honolulu, only one full day, since we’re arriving in the afternoon today and flying out early two days later, I’ve booked myself at this secluded hotel up on the North Shore. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it will give me some time to just relax.

I’m now sitting here wondering how to handle this because it’s obvious Jake went out of his way to be with me. I don’t owe him anything, and in the past, I would feel like I did. I would feel like I should sleep with him in exchange for his somewhat creepy stalker-like behavior. But he’s smooth like a forehead after Botox, and he makes me laugh.

“Do you have plans after we land?” I ask, knowing what I’m about to do is a risk.

“Nope. Up until yesterday, I was on a flight to Vancouver, so this is a bit of a change.”

“Well, I’m gonna go jump off some cliffs and then drink a bunch of Mai Tais on the beach. Care to join me?”

“Holy shit. Did the elusive Taylor Patterson just invite me to hang out with her? No bets, no wagers, no gimmicks?”

“No, but if you keep giving me shit, I’m totally taking back my offer. And if we learned anything from the last time, it’s that I can kick your ass in a race.”

“I learned that you’re sneaky and that you laugh at other people’s misfortunes.”

“You falling off that treadmill was clumsiness not misfortune.” I give him a little nudge with my elbow, and I feel my cheeks start to hurt from all the smiling.

Five hours later, we’ve landed, cleared the plane and now find ourselves in the lobby of the stunning White Sand Bay hotel overlooking the Pacific. I have no idea if they have another room available and when I invited him, I knew there was a possibility I’d end up sharing a room with him. That’s where things could get complicated.

But he doesn’t even have that expectation, just walks right up to the next available check-in attendant and asks to book a room for a night or two. Luckily, we don’t have to cross that awkward bridge since the hotel happens to have another room. But something far more awkward happens as we both stand waiting to check-in.

I gasp out loud when I see him, shirtless in the lobby with a tiny woman in a bikini that looks like it was made for a toddler.

Trent.

My fucking ex-husband.

“Taylor?” he says, as I attempt to act like I don’t see him, hauling my bag and myself in the opposite direction, but he calls my name again. This time his voice is loud, and despite the noise in the lobby, it rings out.

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