Page 8 of Arrogant Arrival

living, what do you do?”

Before I can answer, the waitress arrives to take our order. When she leaves, Jolene eyes me and continues her line of questioning. “Tell me, Jim, is this typical for you?”

“Yes. Typically, I order steak. I do love my beef.”

“Noooo,” She draws out. I grin, pleased with myself, watching her fight back a smile. “I meant picking up women at the airport.”

I chuckle. “No. Actually, this is a first. What about you? Do you typically leave with a man you met at the airport?” Her smile vanishes, letting me know immediately that I’ve said the wrong thing. “Hey, I’m not judging.” She asked first, in my defense. “Let’s discuss chicken. Do you typically prefer poultry dishes?”

She giggles.Thank God that worked.“Poultry dishes?”

“Of the poultry variety?”

“Although I appreciate your attempt at changing the subject, it’s fine. Actually, it was typical for me to leave the airport with someone. Usually, it was a pilot.” She scoffs. “Itwasa pilot. Always.”

“That makes sense. More sense than scanning for stranded, lonely travelers while they drink their chocolate shakes.”

“I think I’d prefer the lonely traveler than the pilot. I’ve recently made a vow to never date a pilot again.”

Oh shit.“Let me make sure one thing is clear. You never want todatea pilot again? Because that’s been your typical type?”

“Exactly. Never again. I’d walk through fire tonotdate a pilot ever again.”

The waitress places a cocktail in front of Jolene and a beer in front of me. I release a nervous chuckle, “Fire, huh? Rather have flames lick your body rather than the tongue of a pilot?”

“Yes.”

“What if it was an extremely sexy pilot? With a skillful tongue? Who could make you feel on fire in the best way.”

Jolene picks up her cocktail glass and looks at me over the rim. “Sounds like you want to sleep with a pilot.” She takes a sip and then places her glass back down. “I know exactly how skillful their tongues are…with lies.”

“That’s most people. Unfortunately.” I take a long drink from my beer. I lick my lips and lean on the table. I focus on those gorgeous, pouty lips and liquid, honey eyes that are illuminated by the fire burning inside of her. Her shoulders are tense and her back is straight as a board, it has me wanting to pull her out of her chair and do something wild. Maybe kissing her in the middle of this restaurant? Maybe knocking everything off the table and sitting her on top of it like they do in the movies? Maybe…pulling her on top of my lap and telling her to buckle up because it could be a bumpy ride.Oh God.That was a bad line, even for me.

“Are you like most people?” Her voice brings me out of my crazy scenarios. I stare at her with raised eyebrows. She repeats the question. “Are you like most people, Jim the Greek?”

We’re not dating. This isn’t a date… technically. It’s hopefully a great night of sex. There’s no reason to tell her. None at all.Guilt gnaws at my gut, but then she bats those eyelashes at me. I take a long drink from my beer while maintaining eye contact with her. The heat burning in her eyes has my body on fire. “Let’s go to the room and I can show youexactlyhow I’mnotlike most people?”

That came off really cocky, but damn it, I can deliver. I am fully prepared to make this a night she won’t forget. I’ll spend all night loosening every tense muscle in her delectable body.

She smirks and tilts her head. In a sweet voice feigning innocence, she says, “That’s right. You booked a room, didn’t you?”

I sure as hell did.“I’ll tell them our room number and ask them to send our order up.”

“Tell them they can take their time. I’ve got an appetite for something else.”

My guilt over my career details has been replaced by something else. A much stronger emotion—lust.

I’m not a complete scumbag, though.I’ll tell her the truth – if she asks me directly. Again.

Jolene

Jim scans his keycard and then holds the door open for me to enter. I pull my carry on behind me and shimmy past him. Jim walks over to the night-stand. Not wanting to waste any time, I place my carry on against the wall and turn to face him. I open my mouth to speak, but stop when the room fills with oldies music.Oh boy. I know how to pick ’em. This night keeps getting more strange.

My eyebrows pull together and I debate if I should run. “Setting the mood?”

He leans his shoulder against the wall, watching me with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Elvis Presley does have one of the sexiest voices of all time.”

“Ah. Elvis fan. I used to know a guy who was a huge Beatles fan.”

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