Page 10 of Come Fly with Me

I have no idea why I agree to this, but I nod my head and watch as Jake darts out of the car like it’s a race to find the worst suit. I take off after him, and when he looks over his shoulder and smiles, my heart practically stops.

I’m just grateful I got a wax before I left.

Four

Jake

It’s a tough call on which suit to pick for her. Obviously, I’m seriously contemplating picking the smallest one possible because I want to maximize how much skin she has on display and my opportunity to totally check her out. I’ve got a pretty good idea how smoking hot her body is from the way she wears her captain’s uniform, but seeing it literally in the flesh is going to be a whole new ballgame.

But then there’s the whole pissed-off factor I need to consider and whether she might decide to scrap this spending the day with me thing because I pick something totally ridiculous. Arse floss as she calls it.

In the end, I compromise.

“Seriously?” Taylor calls from the changing room.

“What?” I ask, smiling. I’m already standing outside, waiting for her to make her appearance.

She huffs loud enough for me to hear through the door. “And to think I actually thought you could be trusted,” she mutters.

“I can,” I say, chuckling a little. “Quit stalling and get your arse out here, Captain.”

The door opens wide enough for Taylor to stick her head out. “I cannot believe you picked this suit for me,” she says, brows scrunched. “You don’t play fair!”

My grin widens. “Out,” I say, beckoning her with my fingers.

She rolls her eyes and reluctantly opens the door wider and steps out. I nearly cream my fucking shorts when she does. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the bikini I picked out for her would look that good. But holy shit does she know how to rock a few scraps of fabric and some string.

“Wow, you look good,” I say, grinning as I give her a wink. “Really fucking good.”

She exhales hard, her hands on her hips as she gives me a once-over. “And you’re an asshole,” she says, gesturing toward the board shorts I’m wearing.

I glance down at myself, laughing a little. “Yeah, I gotta say, I’m really glad you didn’t force me to wear a pair of dick stickers.”

“A pair of what?”

“Dick stickers,” I repeat. “Budgie smugglers, meat hangers…?” Taylor stares back at me as though she has no idea what I’m talking about. I point to the rack just outside the change room. “Speedos?” I try.

She glances over. “Ohhh,” she says, finally realizing what I’m talking about. “I should’ve picked you a thong,” she adds, scowling as she turns back to me. “You deserve it for this.”

My grin widens. “Well, to be fair, you do look smoking hot, Captain,” I say, blatantly running my eyes slowly down and then back up her body. When I reach her face, I can see she’s blushing, squirming almost. Chuckling, I reach into my changing room and grab the rashie shirt I also picked out because I knew she’d react this way.

“Here,” I say, holding it out to her. “I forgot to leave you this,” I add, winking.

After we’re done, we grab a couple of boards, towels and sunscreen and head down to the beach. The shop is close enough that we can walk, which is just as well considering there’s no way I can get two surfboards into my car.

“You really know how to surf?” Taylor asks as she walks beside me, awkwardly holding the board I’ve borrowed for her.

“Yep,” I reply. “Been doing it since I was a teenager.”

“How old are you?” she asks, glancing over.

I grin. “Yes, no questions only, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, are you in your thirties?”

“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head. “Are you?”

Taylor exhales, running a hand through her now loose hair. “Yes. Twenties?”

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