Coffee and Cockpits (12 page)

“That’s awfully nice of you to say, Mikin.”

Someone slapped me on the back. I winced as my head screamed like an aircraft engine. I cranked my neck, forcing a grin. “Rivers.”

He looked past me to Mack, sticking out his hand. “I’m Nikolai.” He shot me a look and added, “Here to clean up Mikin’s mess.”

Mack took his hand, saying, “Glad they could arrange a charter flight to get you here so fast. I’ll take you to the hanger and settle you in. The plane is due to be towed in the next hour or so.”

“Sounds good.” Rivers swiped a hand through his brown hair, snorting, “Did you give us anything to work with, Liam, or is it totalled?”

A surge of temper caught me by surprise. I shrugged. “That’s
your
job to decide. Not mine.” Any shmuck could see the aircraft was a goner. Why the hell was I so irritated? What was in the past should stay in the past. I thought I’d moved on. Not forgiven or forgotten, but dealt with it the best I could. Turns out, I didn’t do such a great job.

Rolling my shoulders, I sighed. “Did Kiwi Air hook you up accommodation wise? Perhaps after you’ve finished work, we should grab a bevy?” Was that my way of keeping my enemies close, or was I finally ready to stop being a dick-wad? Then again, I wasn’t the bastard in what went down between us.

Nikolai smiled. “Yep. I believe I’m at the same shindigs as you. I’ll track you down tomorrow.” Rubbing his hands, he said, “Now excuse me while I go and take care of your wreckage.”

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, I strode through the airport looking for my wayward step-sister and her incredibly hot friend. Nina was in a class of her own. Working in this business guaranteed a bunch of ladies who were well groomed, nicely spoken, and easy on the eyes.

However, none fit into the level of awesomeness that Nina did. And I had to watch everything I said around her as I knew the
real
her, or as much as I could by my underhanded tactics of watching her from a distance. Was I creepy? Probably. Did I care? Not really. It meant I found a woman who was my perfect ideal in every way and didn’t have to deal with the heartache of rejection. But that was all about to change. I was rusty when it came to putting the moves on women. My life never seemed to have room for too much emotional attachment, but I wanted some. More than I probably knew.

Even Joslyn and Theo had helped armour me with a stack of facts about Nina, so I’d have an arsenal of things to talk to her about and break the ice between us.

Now I was sucked deeper into a crush I’d been nursing for almost a year. I knew she flew. I knew she had ambition and drive. I also knew she snuck out of the hotel in Sydney dressed in a yellow dress looking like a delicious lemon dessert. My hands still clenched when I wondered who she might’ve gone to see. God, I was an idiot. I suffered jealously even before I’d asked her out for a simple coffee.

I also knew she was fiercely passionate about chasing her dreams, but was either too shy or embarrassed to share what she wanted with others.

They say opposites attract, but in this case it wasn’t true. Nina was the female equivalent of me. And I wanted her. After Jos told me she refused to date any man with wings attached to his lapel, I’d been hesitant—just in case I crashed and burned. No pun intended.

I had dreams. Drive and ambition. I had places I wanted to be; things I wanted to achieve. But I kept those dreams to myself. Even Joslyn didn’t know what I ultimately wanted; I was afraid it sounded idiotic.

I turned a corner in baggage reclaim and spotted Joslyn slouching over a desk talking to Nina. My heart scrunched at Nina’s rumpled appearance. Her hair suffered static tendrils and curls framed her oval-shaped face.

She smiled tiredly at something Jos said as her eyes connected with mine across the space of the reclaim hall.

My throat imitated a desert cactus and my limbs forgot how to listen to my brain.
God, Liam. Get a grip.
I’d been so good the last few days keeping my emotions in check rather than see-sawing between gazing at her with puppy-dog eyes and acting like the egotistical pilot I pretended to be. I constantly ping-ponged between wanting to ask her out and pissed at myself for being so besotted. 

To her, I was a complete stranger. To me, she was mine. I just had to make her see that in a non-creepy kinda way.

I finally got my legs to obey my brain synapses and stopped beside Jos. She gave me a hip bump and a weary smile. “Hey. Can we get the hell outta here please? I have blisters on top of blisters and need to crash.”

Nina laughed. “You already did the crashing part.”

Jos groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Nina rubbed the back of her neck. “All I want is a soft bed with tons of pillows I can dive into.”

The mental image her feminine yet husky voice gave me was a little too good. There wouldn’t be just a bed as I’d be there too. And clothing would be non-existent. As for pillows, they’d be on the floor.

I cleared my throat. Shattering my R-rated daydream. “The hotel shuttle is waiting outside. Let’s go.”

I
t was dark and my stomach was past hungry, running on fumes. If it wasn’t for the corset holding my snarling stomach in place, I might have buckled over with emptiness. Every bump the hotel shuttle went over sent another spasm in my neck.

I couldn’t stop looking at the back of Liam’s head in front of me. The way his eyes darkened in the harsh glow of the airport when I’d mention tumbling into bed kept repeating. As much as I
did
want to sleep and drown myself in pillows, another part of me desperately wanted to dance, to writhe and jig; to prove I was alive and kicked death in its face.

Samantha moaned beside me where we sat in the back of the minivan. Her skin was ashen, and I had a feeling delayed shock had set in. She moved to speak, but a wracking cough erupted. Her eyes widened as she pulled at her throat.

I scooted upright from my slouch, patting her on the back. “Sam. Are you okay?”

Liam swivelled in the seat in front of us, passing me a water bottle. “Here. Give her this.” His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the swish of tires on the road, but caused my heart to accelerate.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle and waited for Sam to breathe again. “Take a sip.”

After wheezing a few times she raised the bottle to her lips as we pulled into the lobby of a huge, glittering resort with fairy lights threaded through palm trees and a welcoming committee at the top of the oversized marble stairs.

I clambered out of the van and my trolley was promptly whisked from my hands by the bellboy. The dark-skinned man, probably late teens, grinned. “Welcome to Lagi Loto.”

The stress of the crash and aftermath washed away; I returned his smile. “Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” And truly I was. I was happy to be alive. Now all I needed was some music and a dance to soothe the remaining tension.

I followed the crumpled looking Samantha and Joslyn to reception, waiting quietly as we checked in. Dispatch had phoned ahead and approved our little envelope of cash and a debrief letter on what would happen next.

A gentle breeze whispered through the open-air lobby, almost as if the island welcomed us. Liam made eye contact with me and a crooked grin graced his lips. His eyes were strained, but clear as blue glass. Worry niggled a little over his head injury. A good night’s sleep and he should be okay—hopefully.

Anderson passed the letters from operations, along with our room keys. He didn’t look well either. I think everyone needed a good rest. Samantha and Joslyn had turned into zombies—standing half-asleep, wobbling on their feet.

“Everyone get to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Anderson gently pushed us toward the inner workings of the hotel.

No one argued, and I fought heavy eyelids. We stepped down the sweeping staircase and entered luscious tropical gardens, sprawling in the dark like a secret maze.

A concierge zoomed out of the glow-tinged night riding a golf cart. “If you please get on, I’ll take you to your fales.”

“Fales?” Joslyn asked.

The driver nodded. “This resort prides itself on individual fales.” He frowned, then smiled. “It is similar to what you call a bungalow.”

My eyes popped. “We have our own
bungalow?
” Images of airy rooms and four poster beds came to mind. Kiwi Air did well choosing this hotel.

The man nodded, waiting as we all clambered on board—a lot more awake and eager.

Anderson swiped a hand over his face. “You know what, I’m going to walk. I’m feeling a little odd from the stress of the day. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He strode into the soft blackness, a silhouette against the lanterns scattered in the trees.

Liam watched him go with a worried look, but nodded for the driver to leave.

We took off. The only sound was the electric whir of the golf cart as we drove around soaring palm trees and flower-laden bushes.

We stopped outside a grass-roofed, timber-cladded bungalow. Pillars and a wraparound balcony welcomed, and gentle lights illuminated the interior through carved windows.

“That one’s mine.” Joslyn hopped off and gave us all a wave. “See ya tomorrow.”

Two minutes later we dropped Samantha at an identical fale and Liam was next door to her. He jumped off the golf cart and held a hand out to me.

“Is my room here, too?” The sounds of wet slaps and hissing of sand enticed, along with salt-laced air. The sea wasn’t far. How perfect would it be for midnight swims and romantic interludes?

The driver pointed across the path. “You are opposite.” 

The fale was the same as all the rest, but it seemed brighter, more beguiling. Just knowing it was mine for the next night or two made it all the more special.

I let my hand slip into Liam’s, and he guided me off the cart. We waved at the driver as he whirred away.

My skin sparked with awareness and heat seeped from Liam to me. He gave my fingers a squeeze before letting go.

His eyes glowed like a blizzard in the night.

I swallowed. “How’s your head?”

“Fine. Bit sore, but nothing worth mentioning.” He smirked. “I’ve had hangovers worse than this.”

I laughed gently, unwilling to disturb the sultry whispered night.

He leaned into me, searching my eyes. “Are you okay? You’re not suffering delayed shock are you?” He frowned. “I don’t like the look of Samantha—she’s vacant, a sure sign of PTSD. And Joslyn seemed a little strained, too.”

I held up my hand. It was perfectly steady, no shakes in sight. “I’m unflappable. See? No delayed shock.” I didn’t need to mention my sore neck. If he could pass off his head bump as nothing, so could I.

He grinned, stole my hand and flipped it so my palm faced upward. His lips caressed my over-sensitive skin. “Yes, you look pretty stable.”

Shock zapped my veins. He’d just taken our tentative friendship to a whole other realm in a second. Maybe he’d decided the same thing as me: life was too short to play games. Even so, I struggled to stay light and carefree. The seriousness of what we lived through weighted me. “I owe you a huge thanks, Liam. If I have to crash again, I hope you’re the one driving.”

He chuckled. “You’ve already thanked me, and don’t joke about things like that. I’ve been there and done it. Don’t want to do it again. Anderson was fantastic. He was so calm. I thought we were going to ditch at one point. I was getting my snorkel ready.”

We laughed together and a flurry of wings sounded in the trees around us.

“Uh oh, we disturbed the roosting birds,” I murmured.

He stepped forward, on the precipice from professional to lover distance. “I like your laugh.” His eyes burned into mine and my knees wobbled as the air solidified.

Oh God. 

He tried to grin, but it looked more like a grimace. He couldn’t stop looking at my lips and I had a mental image of jumping him on the path. What was it therapists said? That survivors of a traumatic event sought sex as a confirmation they were alive? I knew Liam was very much alive by the pheromones he shot into the air. 

He said darkly, “I’m going inside. I don’t have the willpower to behave.”

Did he really just admit to that? Whoa, talk about no inhibitions.

My throat clogged; my body broiled for his touch. Taking courage from his forwardness, I decided to throw all caution to the warm island sky. I whispered, “You wouldn’t have to behave… I wouldn’t mind.”

His nostrils widened and he groaned. “I didn’t mean to say that. I thought you’d bolt.” His voice deepened. “But I’m really glad I did now. I really like you, Nina. And after today, I think we’re both a little too willing to be irresponsible.” He took another step forward so his chest pressed against mine. “I want to kiss you so much. But I won’t, as you might hate me in the morning for taking advantage of you in your post-traumatic state.”

Is that what this was? Purely a release? Disappointment flashed, even as understanding that if it
was
just a lustful attraction he wasn’t acting on it. That meant something… right?

My breath became erratic; denials screamed in my head. I wasn’t suffering PTSD. I knew what I was doing, and I
wanted
him to kiss me. It wasn’t anything to do with what we lived through. It was my promise to stop fighting what I thought was right and take what I desired. To explore every avenue and indulge in every taste.