Page 36 of That First Flight

I’ve never been involved with a single mom before but it only elevated my curiosity more than it already was.

“Would you three stooges relax? You know I’m not looking for a relationship. That’s not why I brought her back.”

Logan leans forward to whisper just to me, “Is she hot?”

I shake my head. “She’s fucking beautiful.”

“You’re so done for,” Thomas snickers.

“How so?”

“You already sound like she has you wrapped around her finger.”

She absolutely does. That’s for sure. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought about it more times than I want to admit to these guys. I’ve thought about what it would feel like to touch and devour every single part of her body and be consumed by her.

But I refuse to go there.

Macey doesn’t seem like the girl you fuck to get her out of your system.

She’s the type of girl you want to stick around for.

“It’s not like that. I brought her back here to help her out. She has this wild, yet amazing dream to be a chef in the city. I have the connections to help her, so why not use them?”

“That’s so very noble of you.” Thomas rolls his eyes.

“Oh hush. You know I’d give someone the shirt off my back if it meant making someone’s day. I’d do it for you guys, too.”

They remain silent because they know I’m right. It’s who I am.

“Anyway, I got her set up for an interview with Frank over at Mollie’s.”

“Oh, that place is amazing,” Marc says. “I’m there at least once every other week. No one makes mashed potatoes the way they do.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Even if it’s just a stepping stone for her to get her foot in the door, I think it’s the perfect place.”

“Absolutely,” Marc agrees.

Thomas and Logan have nothing else to say to that, but I can see Thomas giving me weary eyes like he’s worried about this entire situation.

“Listen, I have to head back home. I haven’t been there yet since I landed and I want to make sure both the girls are still in one piece.”

“Riiight,” Marc says in his signature drawn out tone. “Good luck with that.”

Laughter erupts around the table as I stand to pay my tab and leave.

I’ve never been more eager to get home.

Once the elevator doors open to my apartment, I notice that it’s eerily quiet. But that only lasts a few seconds before I hear sniffling coming from the direction of the kitchen as if someone is crying.

I enter the space and see nothing but a gigantic mess that’s taken over every piece of space in the kitchen. There’s flour everywhere, brand new pans filled with red sauce and bowls scattered all over the place and random pieces of kitchen tools and food to prep with.

Once I round the island, I see Macey curled into a ball on the floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinet.

She doesn’t lift her head, which tells me she doesn’t know I’m here yet.

“Macey,” I whisper her name in an attempt not to startle her.

“Oliver,” she gasps, standing quickly off the floor as she brushes the mess off her apron. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t how I wanted you to come home. I’ll get everything cleaned up. I’m sorry.”

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