All Messed Up: Windy City Kink, Book 2 (2 page)

She smiled.

He pulled out his cell phone and glanced at it. “We should head to the gate, I guess. We’re supposed to start boarding in five minutes.”

“I want to use the ladies’ room first,” she said. She finished her wine and placed the empty glass on the bar as Joe pulled out some bills. “Thank you for the drink. It was much more fun than sitting by myself.”

“My pleasure.”

They separated to go to their respective bathrooms and met up again moments later on the concourse, walking together to the gate.

Through the windows, they could see tiny snowflakes falling, the late afternoon skies gray and overcast. “Sunshine,” Mallory said. “Palm trees. Beaches. We’re on our way.”

Joe smiled his agreement.

Soon they were separating again to board the plane and Mallory felt a pang of disappointment. She sent him a quick smile as she made her way down the aisle and he stayed at the front again.

She went through her familiar routine settling into her seat, although she didn’t fasten her seatbelt as there was still an empty seat beside her. Eventually, an older woman arrived and claimed the window seat, and then Mallory fastened her seatbelt and flipped through her magazine. This time her difficulty concentrating on the magazine wasn’t because of work, but because she kept replaying her conversation with Joe, remembering his easy smile and the way he made her laugh. Clearly, he didn’t take things too seriously. And yet…he was a police officer. That was a pretty serious profession. She had to admire someone who could have such a serious, life-or-death job and yet still have such a sense of fun and adventure. Admire, and even…envy.

She also kept remembering the way he looked at her, attraction evident in his smile and his eyes. He had a glint in those eyes that hinted he might like to do wicked things…

She gazed out the window, her view not that great from the aisle seat, but she could still see equipment moving around on the tarmac. She tried again to read her magazine and actually got into an article when the flight captain came on the sound system to apologize for the delay. Mallory glanced at her watch. They were fifteen minutes late leaving.

“We need to de-ice the wings,” the captain announced. “So we’re going to be a little longer here before we get you up in the air and on our way to Los Angeles. We were actually hoping to get away before we needed to do that, but unfortunately that didn’t work out. So we’re waiting our turn with the de-icer. Thank you for your patience.”

Huh. De-ice the wings. Okay. Better safe than sorry. The snow was still light, but apparently it was cold enough that they needed to do that.

The woman beside her shifted and murmured, “Oh dear.”

Mallory wasn’t a nervous flyer. Whatever they had to do, they’d do, and a little snow was no big deal. Planes flew through worse all the time, and a short delay was annoying but not as much as when she was on a business trip and had tight time frames. If her flight was delayed, her parents would just have to wait a little longer at the airport.

Before they were told to turn off their electronics, she pulled out her BlackBerry and sent her mom a quick message to tell her they were late leaving. Then she turned her attention to the magazine article about how to talk dirty in bed. And then another about a young woman who had breast cancer. It was heart wrenching, but she forced herself to read it because she wanted to make herself feel fortunate for everything she had.

Eventually she became aware that they’d been sitting in the airplane for quite a while. People around her were getting restless and starting to complain loudly. It was warm and stuffy in the aircraft, and Mallory reached up to adjust the air vent above her, sending a cool blast toward her. Better. But she was getting antsy too. What was going on?

The pilot came back on to make another announcement, again apologizing for the delay. “There’s a long line of planes waiting to get to the de-icing equipment,” he said. “The snow hit about four hours before it was supposed to arrive and unfortunately the de-icing solution wasn’t warmed up yet. The ground crew was planning to take care of it before the morning flights but it’s obviously too late now.”

What the fuck? The de-icing solution wasn’t warmed up? Mallory sighed. It was late October, so she supposed it was a little early for them to need it, but shouldn’t it be ready any time? Jeez.

The lady beside her fidgeted and sighed and bit her lips.

Mallory wanted to go talk to Joe. She leaned into the aisle and looked to the front of the plane. Others had gotten up and moved around. She could do that too.

But that was crazy. She didn’t even know him.

She tried to focus on her magazine again—“What real guys think about commitment”. She wrinkled her nose.

They’d been sitting on the plane for about an hour when the pilot came back on. “Well, folks…” he said. “We’re going to let you deplane while they get the de-icing equipment going. We apologize for the inconvenience. Hopefully we’ll be on our way shortly.”

A collective groan filled the plane, people mumbling with annoyance as they began to rise and move about, collecting their belongings. Mallory shot a smile at the lady beside her as she stuffed her magazine and tablet computer back into her big purse then rose to haul her bag out of the overhead compartment.

Inside the airport, the flight attendants handed out cans of soda and little pretzel packets, discussing amongst themselves how they were getting close to their cut-off time when they’d have to leave the airport to sleep before they could travel again. Great.

Mallory took her soda and pretzels and looked around. What were they supposed to do? How long was this going to be? She probably shouldn’t go very far in case they got things fixed soon and were able to take off.

“So,” Joe spoke beside her. “Looks like we get to spend a little more time together.”

Chapter Two

Joe smiled down at Mallory. The airport had to be the most unsexy place in the world, grumpy people complaining about the flight delay, harsh lights, uncomfortable seating. But Mallory…she was sexy.

“Another drink?” he said.

Her eyes shifted. “I don’t know. We should probably stay close in case they make announcements about what’s happening.”

“We’ll hear them in the bar. And I’d rather have another beer than that warm soda and tiny little bag of pretzels.”

“I guess.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Okay.” She let out a heartfelt sigh.

“What’s wrong?” He set his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the people in the concourse.

“You have to ask? I just want to get home to see my folks. This is frustrating.”

“Yeah. It is. But hey, they’ll get the de-icing solution warmed up and get those wings de-iced and we’ll be good to go in no time.”

“So optimistic,” she murmured.

“Can’t do anything about it.” He shrugged. “Gotta make the best of it. Right?”

“Right.”

They walked down the concourse back to the bar they’d been at earlier. Now all the seats at the bar were taken, but they found a small table for two and took a seat.

He watched her across the table as she arranged her carry-on and her purse, and hung her jacket on the back of her chair. She sat and folded her hands on the table and gave him a bright smile. “Okay! Here we are again.”

Her hair shone under the lights of the bar, multi shades of gold and caramel and honey, sweeping from a right-sided part across her forehead and curving under her chin in a smooth, sleek style. A little sleeker than his usual preference, which leaned more toward long dark hair. Her clothes were classy and conservative too: black pants, an ivory sweater under a black jacket, with a black, ivory and taupe-colored scarf around her neck. The only thing she wore that even hinted at sexy were the pointy-toed, high-heeled black boots that barely peeked out from beneath the hem of her black pants.

But something in her eyes hinted at sexy too, and her smile…the way she recognized his cracked sense of humor. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but it also seemed she recognized something else inside him. Despite the conservative, buttoned-up appearance.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll get home to see your parents in no time.”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “Times like this I really hate traveling. You were right about the time travel thing.”

“Absolutely. I’ve been thinking that in my spare time I should start working on a time machine or something.”

She grinned and relaxed a bit back into her chair. “Good idea.”

They ordered drinks and Joe added an order of nachos. “I’m not gonna make it to L.A. without some food,” he said. He looked at the big screen TV. “I guess the game’s over. Wonder who won.”

“Let’s check.” She pulled out her cell phone and did some fast moves with her thumbs. She bit her lip as she waited. “Hey! Blackhawks won, four-two.”

“Awesome.”

She did a few more clicks, checked something else then set down her phone. “We need the TARDIS. This sucks.”

He grinned. “Right?” Then he shrugged. “It happens. I’m looking on the bright side. I get to have another drink with a beautiful woman.” He winked.

Her cheeks got pink and her eyelashes fluttered. “Well. Yeah. There is that.”

He chuckled then leaned back in his seat as the waiter set his beer in front of him.

“So, how long have you lived in Chicago?” he asked her.

“Only about two years. I moved there to take a promotion.”

“You’re pretty young to be…what did you say your title was? Senior Marketing Manager?”

“Senior Marketing Development Manager.” She made a face. “And I’m thirty-one.”

He grinned. “Thanks. It’s rude to ask. I’m thirty. So still, thirty-one is young for that kind of position. Right?”

She shrugged. “I’ve worked hard. I’ve been with the company since I graduated with my MBA. I started as a junior manager.” She looked down at her glass of wine, her mouth going tight.

“What company is it? Did you say you sell drugs?”

She gave a tense laugh. “Yeah. Zafir Pharmaceuticals.”

“So what does a Senior Marketing Development Manager do?”

“Basically my job is to expand potential markets for our products.”

“Drugs.”

“Yes.” Her face tightened a little more. “That’s right. We produce drugs that are used to treat cancer, kidney disease, rheumatoid arthritis, asthma…serious diseases.”

“That sounds very worthy.”

She nodded. “Yes. It should be.”

“Should be? You mean it’s not?”

She sighed. “I’m going through a rough time at work right now. We should talk about something more fun.”

“Okay. Sure. But if you want to talk about work, sometimes that helps.”

She nodded glumly. “Yeah. I know. Thanks. Maybe we could talk about your work. Being a police officer is also a worthy career.”

“Worthy. Did I really say that?” He laughed. “That sounds a little sanctimonious.”

“You did say that. And it’s not sanctimonious. I think it’s important to feel like you’re doing something good in your career. Like you’re contributing. Where’s the satisfaction if you’re not?”

“I suppose.” He shrugged. “It’s a job.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Just a job? I’d think to be a police officer you have to be pretty committed. Why are you in that job if you don’t like it?”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Did I say I didn’t like it?”

“Not in so many words.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I do. Just don’t think I’m some kind of hero out saving lives every day. Because it’s not like that.” He was certainly no hero.

She studied him with a discerning look that made him shift in his seat, but fortunately she let that go. “What do you plan to do in Los Angeles?” she asked. “Whereabouts does your dad live?”

“Long Beach, actually.”

“Hey, really? My parents are in Anaheim.”

“Is that close? I don’t know that area very well.”

“Yeah, pretty close. So did your father recently move there?”

“No. He’s…ah…always lived there.”

“But you haven’t visited him much?” Warm curiosity shone in her blue eyes.

“Not much, no.” Wow, this conversation was stumbling from one uncomfortable topic to the next. “Of course, I want to go to the beach and see the ocean.”

“Go to Disneyland.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you’re supposed to do in California. We’ll see about that. My parents took us to Disney World a couple of times when we were young, but not Disneyland.”

“Us? You have a sibling?”

“I have two older brothers.”

“So you’re the baby of the family.”

“Yes. I am.” He rolled his eyes.

“So, when did your parents separate?”

“They’re…not.” Then he realized what he’d let slip.

She frowned. “Oh. Sorry. I’m confused. You were talking about your dad like he lives apart from your mom.”

Hell. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Families. They’re complicated.” And that was a serious understatement. His stomach clenched.

“True enough,” she said with a sigh. “I love my folks, but we’ve had our challenges too.”

“Doesn’t everyone.”

The waiter reappeared with a big plate of nachos that he set in the middle of the table, along with a couple of smaller plates and a pile of napkins.

“So.” She gave Joe a bright smile. “I was just reading an article in a magazine about how to talk dirty in bed. Do guys like that?”

He blinked. “Wow. That change of subject just about gave me whiplash.”

She laughed. “Sorry.” She picked up a chip loaded with cheese.

“Um. Talk dirty in bed. Yeah. Sure. I like it. But not if it sounds fake.”

“Like what?”

“I mean, if she’s spouting off stuff that sounds like something she would never, ever say…like maybe it came from a bad porn movie…that would feel awkward.”

“Like ‘Fill me up, Daddy, fuck my tight cunt. Make me scream with that big dick of yours.’”

He choked on his beer, laughing. “Okay, yeah.” But damn if his dick didn’t thicken a little at the dirty words. “I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘Daddy’ in bed.”

She grinned.

“It doesn’t have to be vulgar to be sexy,” he said. “It could actually be something like, ‘make me come’ or ‘you’re so good with your tongue’.”

“You’ve heard that one?”

“Maybe once or twice.” He smiled modestly. “If you’re going to talk dirty, you have to feel comfortable saying it, otherwise it’s just going to make things tense.”

“I agree.” She nodded.

“How about when guys talk dirty? Do girls like that?”

“I can’t speak for all girls. I like it. To a point.”

“What don’t you like?”

“I don’t like being called a bitch or a whore or a cunt.”

Amusement mingled with admiration inside him. “Don’t blame you. I’d never call a woman those names during sex.”

“But outside of sex maybe?”

“I never said that! Not outside of sex either. Wait. I did call my buddy Kevin’s ex a bitch when she dumped him for no reason.”

“To her face?”

“God no! Just to him.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

Joe’s ears perked at the announcement coming over the sound system. They both listened as it was announced that they would be reboarding the plane shortly. Their eyes met. Damn. He was kind of disappointed actually. Things had gotten fun. They exchanged a wry smile as they finished off their drinks and ate a last couple of nachos. Mallory pulled her wallet from her big purse. “Let me buy this time,” she said.

“No. I’m buying.” He was firm on that and gave her a level look that had her putting her wallet away.

“Thank you. You really have made this ordeal more fun.”

“Likewise, gorgeous.”

Once more they headed back to the gate and waited in line to board the plane. For the third time since they’d spoken to each other in O’Hare, they separated to go to their own seats, and dammit, this time it really felt like a downer. If the plane wasn’t so full, he would’ve asked about moving seats so they could sit together, but he did like sitting in the bulkhead seat so he had extra legroom.

Darkness had fallen by now, and snow was continuing to come down. Not a full-fledged blizzard by any means, but enough to pose a problem with snow on the wings. Equipment moved around outside on the tarmac, visible only by lights in the dark. Flight attendants moved through the cabin, patiently answering questions and trying hard to pacify all the unhappy customers. Joe laughed inside, realizing that the delay hadn’t bothered him one bit. Not only was he not in a big rush to get to L.A. and see his biological father—he’d gotten to spend more time with Mallory. Pretty. Sexy. Smart. And not all that happy.

What was going on with her job that was making her so tense? That sucked.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, Captain Kirk here again.”

Captain Kirk? Seriously? Why hadn’t he noticed that last time he’d spoken? Joe wanted to laugh.

“So the news we’re getting from the ground crew is that the planes are so icy, as soon as they’re done with the back of the plane the front has to be de-iced again. That’s why it’s taking so long for us to get our turn there.”

Joe sighed.

Where in Chicago did Mallory live? Damn, he should have gotten her phone number. Just because their flight was leaving and they were going their separate ways for the next week or so, didn’t mean he couldn’t look her up once they were home…

What the hell was he thinking? She looked like the kind of woman who was ready to settle down in a long-term relationship, and he was so not that guy. Especially not now, with his head all fucked up from the news he’d just been smacked with. Although the truth was, his head had been fucked up for a while. Most of his life, in fact. He sighed.

But damn, he liked her. There was a definite attraction there, a nice zing of heat and excitement. They were similar ages. Both single.

Whatever. He flipped open the airline’s travel magazine that was tucked in the pocket on the wall in front of him and studied pictures of Thailand. Then an article about London, England. Hadn’t Mallory said she’d traveled there? That would be cool.

And then he was back to thinking about Mallory. Thinking about talking dirty to her in bed. Christ. Images filled his head of rumpling her professional clothes and messing up her sleek hair, and he had to shift in his seat as his cock swelled a little against his fly.

Nearly an hour later, the captain announced that they were still waiting and could get off the plan again. “We apologize again for the inconvenience.”

Oh, for Chrissake. They were getting off the fucking plane again? This was turning into a nightmare.

But he couldn’t help but seek out Mallory as he rose to deplane again. He spotted her shiny hair as she stood in the aisle, once more wrestling her bag out of the overhead compartment.

This time he didn’t pretend that he’d run into her by accident. He waited for her right outside the plane.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said with a smile. “Let me take that for you.” He reached for her small suitcase.

“That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

But he took it anyway and they walked up the gently sloping carpeted gangway. Inside the terminal he moved away from the gate and stopped to face her. “So here we are again,” he said. “Sounds like this bird might not be taking off tonight.”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “This sucks. Oh, I better text my mom.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

She pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “Is your dad picking you up at the airport? You might want to let him know about the delay.”

“He’s not picking me up. So it’s okay.”

She thumbed in a message, eyes on her phone. “There. I just wish I knew what to tell them. This is so annoying!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I hate things that are out of my control.”

“Really?” He gave her a look.

“What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She blinked rapidly and his smile widened.

“Like I wanted to make you lose control?” He bent closer to murmur the words in her ear.

“Um…”

“That’s because I do.” He straightened. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere we can get comfortable for the next while… Wait.”