Page 5 of Shared By the Pilots

“They said it was delivered here?” the agent behind the service desk said with a frown. “Let me check the loading dock. Back in a jiffy.”

I glanced at my watch. It had been an hour since we landed. By the time I got checked into my hotel, it would be time for dinner. I needed to find a good place.

I thought about Captain Hendricks’ dinner invitation, and Dex’s reaction to learning I had turned him down. He was totally off-base about me. I didn’twantto be unhappy forever. I just knew what I wanted—and, more importantly, what Ididn’twant. Having standards didn’t mean I was destined to be single forever.

I thought I would be married by now. With a baby on the way.

I shook off the thought as the door to the tarmac opened and a pilot walked in. I knew he was a pilot because he was wearing a stereotypical tan bomber jacket and aviator sunglasses. With his swept-back sun-bleached hair, he looked like Matthew McConaughey auditioning for the new Top Gun movie.

His handsome face broke into a smile when he saw me. “Where’s Freddy?” he asked in a smooth Texas drawl. “Let me guess. Another smoke break?”

“He’s looking for my bag,” I replied.

The unknown pilot gave me a long look, down and then up. “I don’t want to sound rude, ma’am, but I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“No kidding,” I muttered. “I came in on a 737 from Houston and somehow my bag was sent over here.”

The man leaned on the service counter and let out a slow whistle. “I’d be raisin’ all kinds of hell if they did that to me,” he said in that drawl.

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m a pushover.”

He grinned. “You don’t look like a pushover, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.”

I shrugged, and steeled myself for what was going to come next. This guy was going to ask me out. I could feel it coming. All pilots were cocky, and this guy seemed more full of himself than most.

Then he leaned over the counter and snatched up a brown paper bag. “Here we go. The reason I’m here.” He turned back and gave me a half-salute with the hand holding the bag. “Hope the rest of your evening turns out better.”

He started to walk away.

“Hey,” I protested. “You can’t just take that.”

He flashed me a grin over his shoulder. “If Freddy asks, tell him Taylor stole it.”

I watched as the man—Taylor?—walked out to the seaplane on the tarmac. He tossed the bag up into the cockpit before climbing up himself.

“Yup, your bag got sent here all right,” Freddy said as he returned from the back area. “Real sorry about that. I’d love to blame it on the computer system, but truth is the guys we have unloading bags aren’t the brightest bunch.”

I pointed out to the tarmac. “That pilot just came in here and took a bag off your desk. He said his name was Taylor.”

Freddy chuckled. “That sonofabitch was supposed to pick it up two days ago. About time he took it off my hands.” He wheeled my bag around the side of the counter. “Here you go.”

“Who is he?” I asked, still staring out at the seaplane. It was beginning to taxi out to the runway for takeoff. “I’ve never seen anyone fly one of those outside of Alaska.”

“Taylor Hawkins?” He gave me a wry smile. “He’s trouble. He’s also a great sonofabitch to have as a friend. Saved my ass more times than I’ve got fingers.”

I watched the seaplane taxi out of sight.

Half an hour later, I was checking into my hotel. The airline usually booked the entire flight crew together, but I didn’t see Dex or Adam or anyone else. As I took the elevator up to my room, I prayed that I wouldn’t run into Luke.

I took a shower and changed into more appropriate clothes for the Miami heat; a pair of baggy linen pants and a thick-strap tank top. As I perused Google Maps for a place to eat, I thought more about what Dex had said. Was I sabotaging myself to stay unhappy?

At thirty-three years old, I had been on countless bad dates in my life. I spent ten years navigating Tinder, I didn’t want to subject myself to that grind again. I didn’t have the emotional energy for it. And I certainly didn’t want to settle.

Deep down, I was happy alone. Comfortable in my own skin, alone with my thoughts. I didn’t mind taking a book to a bar or restaurant and eating by myself while reading. Some people called that pathetic, but it made me feel independent.

Yet no matter how happy I was now, I sometimes wondered if I was missing out on something deeper…

I thought about Taylor Hawkins, wearing that stupid bomber jacket and grinning like the world was all a big joke—and he was the only one who knew the punchline. Something about him stuck in my head, like the smell of fresh pizza in a car after picking it up from the store. The sight of him made mehungryagain, hungry for more than just a meal by myself. Even though we had only spoken for barely a minute, the interaction had ignited something inside of me that was now blazing like a bonfire.

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