Page 12 of From Helsinki with Love
My bag is heavier than I remember, and I struggle a bit as I try to get it into the overhead bin.
”Fuck,” I mutter to myself, pushing other bags to make room for mine.
Hearing a low voice, one I already recognize behind me, asking if they can help with my luggage, I turn my head to see Jasper right next to me. His shoulders take up so much space, and he looks like he goes to the gym twice a day. He must be trained to comfort damsels in distress. Especially a curvy, mid-sized brunette damsel called Vivian Isabel Powers.
As if he can tell that I am lost in my thoughts, he coughs and repeats the question in that husky voice. He could read me something boring like my grocery list all day long, and I wouldn’t care one bit.
“Oh yes, that would be lovely. Thank you. Sorry, I was spacing out.” I say while my face heats up.Very smooth, Vivi, very smooth.
If his voice is low and sexy, it has nothing compared to his laugh. It is throaty and something wicked that I feel it all over my body, from my head to my toes. Honestly, most of it travels down south to my core as I get even hotter and more bothered than before.
I wonder if Jasper is used to the attention that I am so clearly giving him. Do people who enjoy dicks typically react this way to his presence, or is it just me?Who am I kidding?He must get hit on daily. There’s no way I’m the only one noticing his overall hotness.
But if I wasn’t mistaken, he was also flirting with me, so it seems this physical attraction goes both ways.
Moving to give him some room, I accidentally drop my bag. Thank God, it hits my toes and not his. Bending down to pick up my luggage, my head hits something hard. As I hold my pounding head, I realize that we both moved to get my bag, and our heads bumped in the process.
“I’m so sorry,” I say and close my eyes in embarrassment.
“Don’t worry.”
“But I truly am sorry.”
“Vivian, chill.”
Rubbing the spot his thick skull just hit, I hope I don’t get a headache. “Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
When I hear his voice again, I open my eyes. What I don’t expect is how close he is. If I would move a bit, I could kiss those kissable lips of his. Seriously, does he use chapstick daily, or why are his lips so damn tempting? Looking up from his mouth, I am met with blue eyes with a touch of gray. The color isn’t common where I grew up. That must be why they capture my attention.
“Are you okay, Vivian?” he asks soothingly, his voice going lower than normal.
I nod, rubbing the side of my head. “It only hurts a bit where our heads met, but hopefully the headache goes away soon.”
“If you don’t have any painkillers, I have some in my bag. Let me know if you need it.”
Backing away from him, my heart is pounding in my chest. The butterflies are fluttering in my stomach. It feels like someone added heat to this small metal tube. “Thanks, but I packed some for the trip, so I’m covered.”
* * *
Apparently, a few glasses of wine and meeting a hockey hottie help me sleep on a plane. When I wake up feeling groggy and disoriented four hours after we depart JFK, it takes me a moment to realize where I am. And I swear my pulse rockets the moment I do. Fucking planes.
Taking off earplugs and a pretty Marimekko design sleep mask provided for business class travelers, I glance around me and spot Jasper asleep across the aisle.Damn, that man even looks good sleeping.
As I’m rubbing my eyes and stretching my arms, a lovely red-haired flight attendant appears next to me.
“Would you like a blueberry juice drink?” she asks, holding up a cup filled with a reddish liquid.
My eyes widen in surprise. “Did I hear you right—did you say blueberry juice?”
“Yes, it’s the specialty on our flights.”
Nodding, I smile at the attendant and reach out for the cup. “Thank you. Can I also get some water?”
“Sure. It looks like I just ran out of water in this cart, so just a moment, and I’ll get more from the kitchen,” she says after handing me the drink.
“No hurry.”
