Page 5 of Sparks
Silas and I looked over at the young Marine with the obliging lap, who smiled brightly.
“Hi!” I said. “Smith, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Jerome Smith.”
“I’m Harlow.” I stuck out my hand and he shook it, then Silas’s.
“Some of the guys are running to the gas station next door to buy up all the beer and food,” Jerome said.
“Oh, are you guys drinking tonight?” I asked. That all-too-familiar excitement tinged with mischief tickled my insides.
“Yeah! Captain Fowler gave the go-‘head since we’re stuck here and all.”
Captain Fowler? I followed Jerome’s smiling gaze toward the front of the line where the officer was getting a stack of key cards and beginning to pass them out. My stomach did a jiggle-dance as I watched him interact with his soldiers. There was a respectfulness between he and his troop that filled me with awe. The way they gave him their complete attention when he spoke. I had no doubt every one of them would follow him into battle with confidence and do anything he commanded without question. And it wasn’t like he was the largest of the men. He was…average. In fact, at least half of his soldiers were taller and broader than him. And yet, the way he carried himself with assuredness gave off a definite air of power and badassery.
A click drew my eyes to Silas, who was pointing his phone at me and grinning.
“There it is,” he said, turning his phone around to show me in resting bitch face mode.
“Silas!” I swiped at his phone, but he pulled it away, laughing. “Delete that!”
“It’s not your normal RBF, though,” he said, tilting his head. “Look at your eyes.”
He held his phone out for us both, and it was true. The bottom of my face was doing its usual frump thing, but my eyes were…bright. Interested.
I reached out super fast and touched the trash button. Silas let me, still laughing.
“You are so mean to me,” I grumbled.
“You love me.” He gave me a side hug, and ugh, he smelled good. I shoved him away.
The line moved up as the group of Marines migrated into the seating area and I lost sight of the officer. When we got to the front of the line I sniffed something skunky, and felt Silas lightly elbow me. He smelled it, too. The older woman desk clerk was gazing at Silas—he often caused that reaction—and her eyes were slightly reddened. Someone had been having fun before this hoard showed up.
“Have a lovely evening, Miss,” Silas said to the woman as he tapped his keycard on the counter then slid it in his pocket. I rolled my eyes and went toward the elevator. We were about to climb on when the side doors opened down the hall, sending a blast of wind and snow through. In came four Marines, their arms and hands filled with cases of beer and bags of snacks. Cheers broke out, and it was good that the clerk on duty was high, because things were probably going to get rowdy. It made me smile.
“Let’s put our stuff away and come back down,” I said while we climbed into the tight elevator.
“You know I can’t.” Silas was on his phone, typing with one thumb.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “There’s no way we’re flying out in the morning. Don’t make me come down here alone.” Silas was a notorious slam-clicker: a crew member who shut themselves into their room at arrival and rarely socialized.
His mouth pulled to the side as he looked at me and I knew he felt bad. “Maybe after I say goodnight to Jacquie.”Yeah, right.
I sighed. His wife was the jealous type, and although Silas was a super handsome flirt, I’d never seen him once cross the line into inappropriateness. He’d be a fool to cheat anyway; his wife was firecracker hot. She was one of those bikini competitors with lean muscle, perfect boobs, and practically zero body fat. Throw in a gorgeous Latina face and long black hair for the full effect, and wow. They lived in Southern California. He worked three-days one week and four days the next, flying home for three to four days each week. And he never, ever, ever went out with us.
Silas followed me to my room. It was sort of an unspoken rule that the pilot or copilot escorted the flight attendants to their room and checked it out for them. Slightly old-fashioned, maybe, but it was a comforting part of the routine. Silas and I went through the bathroom, closets, and peeked behind curtains, checking to make sure no psychos were in hiding.
“All clear,” he said, giving me a salute and heading out.
“Night,” I told him. “Thanks.”
Before I could lose my nerve, I changed into my casual clothes and headed back downstairs. I would just pretend to use the snack machine and check out the shenanigans. When the elevator opened I heard music and raucous laughter. I walked down the hall and when I turned into the seating area, cheers rang out, stopping me dead in my tracks.
Holy shit. All of the Marines were there, looking at me, and cheering for me. I covered my mouth against a shocked laugh, and Jerome made his way to my side.
“Want a beer, ma’am? Or we have vodka and rum?”
Drinks were held out to me from all directions, and I pointed to the vodka. “Thanks.”
