Coffee and Cockpits (41 page)

I grinned. “Sorry. What?” I threw my pen down. I’d been logging our bookings for the next month and couldn’t lie that I liked the distraction of him. Hell, he could distract me anytime and I’d be willing. Somehow my libido went into concord overdrive whenever he was around. Not to mention how proud I was of him.

We’d expanded our fleet from two Short 360’s to four in just five months of being here. Poppins Paradise Charters was booming, and giddiness filled me. In just five months, my life had gone from wallowing in blacks and browns to dancing in open sky blues and sunset gold.

Excitement bubbled in my veins. Joslyn was due to arrive any moment to spend some time with us, and I couldn’t wait. She’d squealed in joy when I called to tell her where I was and with whom. I’d been right that she hadn’t missed me when I left the celebrations. She and Theo had hooked up but he couldn’t take the time off to visit with her. Hopefully next time.

Liam grinned. “I need some lunch, woman. The local market just hauled in a bunch of crab. They’re having a barbeque on the beach.” He stalked into the tiny office and grabbed my hand. “We’re going to stuff our faces, then deal with the six p.m. flight to Bora Bora.” He kissed me. “And after, I’m going to have you naked in the ocean.”

My body clenched and I allowed him to sweep me into his arms and kiss me harder. I was breathless when he stopped. It took me a moment to screw my business head back on and ignore the lust flowing languidly in my blood.  I laughed. “You do realise your sister will expect you to be in proper pilot attire not a floral shirt and cargo shorts.”

He chuckled, pointing to his breast pocket. “Hey, it has our logo on it.”

I ran my fingertip over the embossed stitching and sighed happily. The black umbrella with its glowing sun and palm trees was odd, but it fit us.

I didn’t think I could wait till tonight to have him. Ever since I took the leap and got on the plane to move to Tahiti, I’d been in a world that left reality behind. Those days we spent together in dream-Samoa ruled. We didn’t let petty arguments get in the way. We spoke our minds. Our hearts. We lived as if we’d wake up any moment and have it all snatched away. Even at the thought icy-terror made me tremble. Never again. I never wanted to go through the confusion and unhappiness of waking from a coma again. To wake and find my dreams were better than life. My goal was to create a reality so perfect I never needed to conjure new and alternative dimensions.

I pushed past Liam, tugging his shirt.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” His eyes glittered with happiness as I didn’t let up the pace.

“When did you say the next flight left?”

“Six. Why?”

“Uh huh. And you’re sure you want crab on the beach?”

He laughed, following behind with my grip on his uniform. “Well… now I’m not so sure. You’re making me hungry for other things.”

My heart flip-flopped and I threw a grin over my shoulder. “Good. I’m hungry, too. Starving in fact.”

Suddenly, it wasn’t me tugging him anymore. He grabbed my hand and we practically bolted through the empty grass strip. The first aircraft Liam had leased waited patiently for its crew and passengers. Blissfully empty for the next two hours.

The stairs were down and I scooted up quickly. Liam on my heels. He tuned and hoisted the door, locking us in.

“When do you sit your final exam again?” I asked, as he hunted me down the aisle. I kept backing up, counting the seat backs as I dodged grasping range.

He tilted his head, enjoying stalking me. “I sit my final one tomorrow. Then you have to hand over that captain’s seat.”

I laughed. “I rather like having you as my co-pilot. I don’t think I’ll relinquish it.”

“You think I’d give you an option?” He launched himself at me. I squealed as strong arms lassoed me and he threw me over his shoulder, heading toward the back of the cabin.

“Put me down.” I hammered on his back, and then pinched his butt. “This is no way to handle your superior officer.”

He chuckled and plopped me on my feet. He stared into my eyes and sweet, eternal love swirled in their arctic depths. I still couldn’t get over that we fell in love in our subconscious.

“I’m going to manhandle my superior officer in much more lewd conduct, starting now.” He reached for me and I tried to stay in character and beat him off, but the moment his lips found mine and his hand found my breast beneath my floral pilot dress, I melted.

“Guess what?” he murmured against my lips.

I giggled, then moaned as his fingers caressed my nipple. “What?”

His mouth fell to nuzzle my neck as one arm wrapped around my waist. His hips swayed side to side to a tempo only he could hear.

My eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“You told me you’d stay under one condition… remember?” Blue-black locks fell into his eyes as he leaned down and captured my mouth.

My heart flew as he flicked me out into a perfect spin. My uniform fluttered around my legs. I whispered in wonderment, “You learned.”

His smile blazed with happy shyness, looking for my approval. “Did I do it right? I normally have incredibly bad rhythm.”

I sighed with utter content. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” Thinking he had his tongue rhythm down to perfection. “You learned how to dance, for me?”

His eyes widened and he froze, hugging me even tighter. “You should know by now I’d do anything for you.”

I reached up to brush his hair away. “I know.” And wasn’t I the luckiest woman in the entire world? Fate decided we belonged together and it took our subconscious to show us how amazing our world could be.

This was what life was about.

Screw Reality.

Ours was a dream.

Acknowledgements

As much as I love Liam and Nina’s story, it didn’t come easy. In a previous lifetime, I flew as a flight attendant, studied for my own pilot’s license, and I danced competitively. Some of the stories shared are true, some not. You’ll have to imagine which, and I thought writing something that I had intimate knowledge of would be fun. Easy.

Not so.

Getting their story right turned out to be a bit of a nightmare, and I hope I’ve done it justice. I know I couldn’t have made it without the amazing help of Suzi Retzlaf. For reading this in its first draft form (cringe) and helping by pointing out glaringly bad plot holes. I also want to thank Victoria Smith for hanging out with me most nights on FB and discussing all things writerly. All the girls at Falling For Fiction (Cassie, Jenny, Kelley, Hope, Abby, Theresa) I could never have done it without your constant support. Love you girls.

Thanks to my wonderful cover artist Megan from Abuse of Reason and Art and Marcie from Looking Glass editing for her help shaping this MS. Lastly, thanks to T.J Loveless and Susan for proofreading this story and catching all those pesky little things that hide in the first twenty drafts.

And I have to thank you, the reader, as without you, I have no reason to write.

About the Author

Jade Hart can either be found spaced out in her imagination typing away, or with her nose deep in a book. If she isn’t writing or reading, she’s travelling the world with her hubby. She currently lives in Middle Earth, but has lived in Hong Kong, England, and Australia, and uses her many travels as inspiration for locations.

She’s English, so hence the English spelling in her work—hope it’s not too distracting!

If you have feedback on this book, or would like to review an eARC of upcoming titles, please don’t hesitate to contact her.

Thanks for reading!

Blog
: www.dreamwritepublish.blogspot.com

Joint Blog
: www.falling4fiction.blogspot.com

Twitter
: @JadeHart8

Email:
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Sneak peek into

Ocean Kills

by

Jade Hart

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Ocean-Kills-Breeze-ebook/dp/B00AJDN5QE/ref=cm_cr-mr-title

Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16057779-ocean-kills

Around the world, murderers and rapists pick off the innocent. Killing loved ones, separating families, and ruining lives.
 

As an eight-year-old girl, Ocean witnessed her family’s massacre and something altered inside her. Twisting her genetic code… unlocking an ability to teleport.

Ocean Breeze was never destined to be normal, especially having been named after air-freshener. She’s a shadow, a ghost—a dark saviour of the innocent. Armed with a switchblade in her bra, and a box-cutter in her pocket, she hunts the filth of the world.
 

Callan Bliss is a Sydney police officer whose skill-set is far above that of a normal cop. All his fellow officers see is a hard worker who loves to catch perpetrators and surf, but that’s because they don’t know about his past. When Callan arrests a suspicious-looking prostitute, he comes face-to-face with a self-confessed vigilante, and suddenly, his secrets aren’t so easy to keep silent.

Ocean hates the police with a passion, and has no intention of being held captive by a cop, even if he is sexy as hell. Teleporting from under his nose, Ocean hunts her next target—a man responsible for the largest sex ring in South Africa—and now he’s about to die. But she doesn’t count on Callan giving chase, nor the body-quaking lust that consumes them. However, Ocean's dark hobbies take precedence over what her heart wants—her thirst for murdering is killing her too, and not even Callan can save her.

Small Excerpt

M
y name is Ocean Breeze. Yep. Ocean
freakin'
Breeze. It was my mom's attempt at some posh-sounding name. She was inspired by—get this—a bottle of toilet air-freshener. My heart squeezed at the thought of the cookie-scented woman with hugs as warm as sunshine.

The sound of my Nikes pummeling the pavement chased away my thoughts. The slapping of rubber against asphalt was similar to the slap the last prostitute-abusing john gave me. Stinking bastard. No one raises a hand to Ocean Breeze without losing an appendage. Or more, as the case may be.

I swiped my hands on my red vinyl miniskirt. It wasn't exactly an attractive outfit—Nikes with a miniskirt? But I've learned the hard way. Running in heels never worked. Ever. The sleazy men who paid for sex didn't care what was on my feet, only what was between them.

I jumped and jived through the crowd. It was two in the morning, and the streets of Kings Cross, Sydney, were a hive of activity. Drunken students hauled themselves from karaoke clubs. Rich business men back-slapped each other for the lap dance from the uni-student, who pocketed their tips to pay for her law degree. This place was full of clichés and smut.

And I loved it.

I could disappear here. I was a nobody. Even boasting a pair of ruby lips and a figure that could've graced the center fold of Playboy, I didn’t stand out. Beauty was coveted in the Cross, and plastic surgery was the salvation if nature didn’t do the work.

So why was I running?

I just killed a guy. That's why.

I bolted past the three-story-sized Coca-Cola advertisement, blazing red and white, and disappeared into an alley full of meth-heads and crack whores. I leaped over comatose figures, sprinting toward the city center.
Keep running. Get far away.

The night was heavy with muggy heat, unusual for this time of year, and sweat made my miniskirt slide against my thighs.

Kings Cross embraced sin and naughtiness—the suburb encouraged unleashed pleasure and endless partying. It also encouraged rapists and murderers who lurked in the shadows. . . waiting.