Crashed into Love: Episode One (2 page)

T
en minutes into the flight, the seatbelt sign flickered off. So far, take off was smooth, and my new job was exactly as imagined. In the clouds—walking on air—literally. Alright, slight over-exaggeration. My feet were firmly planted on the aircraft floor, but a girl could dream.

Now, I had to face the air gods. The men who thought just because they worked in a confined space called the cockpit, it gave them free rein to be cocks.

Joslyn threw me a look while pulling vacuum wrapped cheese and crackers from the storage trolley. “We’ve been summoned.” Her tone was deliberately deep and sombre, while her eyes glinted with mischief.

I groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t get that hickey from a pilot flying us today?”

Her hands flew to her throat in mock horror. “Ms. Nina Poppins, how low do you think of me?”

Smirking, I said, “Gutter low, Ms. Joslyn Duncan.” Jumping out the way of her smack, I added, “You have no boundaries when it comes to a uniform and a man who can control his joystick.”

Samantha appeared; her lips twitched and she giggled. “What’s this I hear about you messing around with joysticks, Jos?”

Joslyn’s cheeks pinked as she licked her lips. “What can I say about joysticks? Love ‘em.”

The seat belt sign pinged on and off again.

I sighed. “Impatient much?”

“I’ve heard that’s how pilots ask for their tea and coffee. I didn’t think it was true though. Bit chauvinistic don’t you think?” Jos asked, wrinkling her nose.

Finally, someone thought like me.

I didn’t like pilots because of their hugely inflated egos. I doubted most of the planes needed wings; they could probably float on the hot air of the men flying them.

“I’ll go,” I muttered, plucking two Styrofoam cups from the galley and filling them with instant coffee.

Joslyn patted me on the back. “There’s the spirit. Go nab yourself a cockpit-sitting, joystick-wielding, sexy pilot.”

I stuck my tongue out at her.
God, how old am I again?
Blowing raspberries was hardly professional flight attendant material.

Collecting myself, I patted my French braid to smooth any fly-aways and rubbed my cheeks to get rid of any shine. It was rather hot in the cabin today.
Mental note: tell the douche-canoes flying this metal tin can to turn the air conditioner up.

Grabbing my flimsy tray of scalding liquid, I flashed Joslyn and Samantha a smile. “Wish me luck.”

Joslyn laughed. “Don’t come back unless you’re pregnant.”

“Punch her for me will you, Sam?”

Joslyn hopped delicately out of the way of Samantha’s half-hearted swing. Then quipped, “You know, you could just jump out of the plane with your black umbrella and float back to all the children you nanny. Saves dealing with men and their
cock
pits.”

Very slowly, I turned and placed the coffees on the counter. Smiling ever so sweetly, I backed Joslyn against the galley and tickled her. “Don’t ever refer to me and my last name again. It’s not original. I’ve put up with Mary Poppins jokes all my—”

“What on
earth
is going on here?” a sharp voice sounded behind me.

Joslyn immediately stopped chuckling and straightened her uniform.

Cringing, I turned and hung my head. “Sorry, Ms. Klein. Nothing’s going on. I was just about to take the pilots their coffee.”

Ms. Klein pursed her lips, tapping her pen against her clipboard. Glaring at Jos and me, she scribbled something on her assessment form.

My heart sank. Why was I so
stupid?
This was the most important day of my career and I was screwing it up by joking and tickling a colleague. Might as well jump out the door without a parachute.

Standing straighter, I tugged my blazer down and sucked in a deep breath. “It won’t happen again.”

Ms. Klein titled her head. “Make sure it doesn’t. Go take the pilots their drinks, then report to me down the back.” Scowling at Joslyn and Samantha, she ordered, “Start the service. We’re already five minutes behind as it is. We’ll be in Sydney before passengers get their snack.”

With the coffee in hand, I slunk out of the galley and knocked on the cockpit door. I waited like a naughty child for admittance. God, this was a nightmare. I was so moronic to think I could have fun and let my guard down a little. No more. The fun was over, and I was all business from here on in.

“Enter,” a voice ordered through the door.

Rolling my eyes, I did as commanded and turned the doorknob in the special way that unlocks it. Every year the security measures increased. Soon there’d be fingerprint scans and eye retina probes. It was such a hassle, but it didn’t stop the pilots from demanding their coffee. Oh no, they had to have their caffeine.

I frowned as I entered, closing the door behind me. What the hell?

Captain Anderson had the local paper spread out in front of him, completely obscuring the window and the endless blue yonder, and Co-pilot Mikin had one foot thrown over his knee, rubbing his calf.

I knew we were on auto-pilot, but surely some sort of readiness was required if something failed?

Hiding my exasperated look, I said, “Two coffees?”

Liam Mikin turned to face me, silver aviators hiding his eyes. Confidence shimmered around him, setting my teeth on edge. I’d seen him around the airport and occasionally at the training facility but hadn’t spoken to him. I didn’t need to speak to him to know the type of man he was. Slut came to mind.

“Do you know how I like it?” His lips quirked; they were full and shapely. His jaw was well-defined, and his Adam’s apple drew my eyes to his tanned throat.

My heart fluttered, and I was instantly pissed at myself for such a feminine reaction to a good looking man who’s panty score eclipsed mine one hundred to one.

Captain Anderson guffawed. “Don’t they all, Mikin?”

Yep – there it was—admission to being a player.

My mouth pursed. “Black with two sugars?”

“Yep. You got it.” Liam smiled, removing his glasses with a suave flourish. He turned the full force of his pupils—blue as the sky and as icy as the cubes I envisioned him rubbing over my body—on me.

I had no idea how I knew his coffee preference, but I’d sure heard the stories about him. One rather elaborate tale about him getting a hosty fired for stealing her blouse after a tryst in an airport bathroom on a layover. She had to do service with only her blazer and bra.

Ignoring his blue-eyed gaze, I asked, “And you, Captain?”

“Milk and one sugar, sweetie.”

I shuddered at the endearment. However, he smiled a fatherly smile. He wasn’t so bad; even if he did have a giant ‘I’m a pilot’ moustache.

Guess I was always destined to be in the travel industry. My dad was a chopper pilot for the Royal Air Force, and boy he never let me forget it. I suffered his disbelief that I didn’t go into service every day, but the upbringing around other air force brats, moustaches, and aeronautical speak ruined me for any other career. Wings fluttered around my heart and jet fuel surged in my veins. It wouldn’t be long until I was the one flying the damn thing, not a trolley-dolly. And I took perverse happiness in keeping my ultimate dreams from my father.

Handing over the steaming cups, I pulled sachets of sugar and containers of milk from my skirt pocket.

“So you’re all set?” I didn’t look at the men; instead, my gaze locked hungrily onto the flickering lights, dials, and controls of the plane’s driving system. The glittering display called to me like a jewellery store called to a gem thief.
Soon, my pretty. Soon I’ll be the one touching your joystick.
I smiled at my own joke.

Liam Mikin noticed. “What’s so funny?” He smirked as his eyes evaluated me with a shrewd expression.

Pasting a blank look on my face, I asked, “Excuse me?”

He shifted in his chair, taking a hesitant sip of hot coffee. “Just now. You smiled.” His head swivelled to the control panel with a frown. The sun, unobstructed by clouds this high above the earth, glinted off his blue-black hair. It reminded me of a raven’s wing: glossy, deep, endless.

Oh my God, where had that thought come from? Raven’s wing? The cockpit did odd things to me.

Liam’s blue eyes met mine. “You going to share the joke?”

Shaking my head, I muttered, “No joke. I better get back to work. Enjoy your coffee, gentlemen.”

Spinning on my heel, I escaped and locked the door behind me. Pilots were dangerous. I was single, twenty-two, and hadn’t been laid since I started my travel and tourism diploma.

I blinked. Crap, had it really been two years since I’d had a boyfriend? I’d been so focused on flying lessons, and then getting this job that romantic trysts were far down my agenda. Perhaps that was a bad move? No one should go through a dry spell and look into Liam Mikin’s quartz-blue eyes. It should be illegal.

“Ah ha! So you aren’t immune!” Joslyn appeared with two pots in her hands. One coffee. One tea.

Stiffening, I shot back, “Whatever. It was just really hot in there.”
Dang namit, I forgot to tell them to turn up the air-con.
But I wasn’t going back in. Even if we were crashing, I would avoid that cockpit at all costs.

Remembering Ms. Klein asked me to go to the back once I’d finished, I gave Jos a scowl and bustled down the aisle.

The brown-haired man in 24B looked up as I stalked past in my stiletto heels. His face was strained, eyes begging for help. His t-shirt was grubby on one shoulder from where the snot-nosed brat had clambered on him, and he was being used as a pillow by an old man on the other side. Both humans were drooling as much as the other, even though there was an eighty year difference between them.

I stopped. His look of pure helplessness undid me, and I smiled. “Sir, can you come with me, please? Bring your belongings.”

His eyes expanded until they glowed with thanks, and his face melted into relief.

He had a nice face: straight nose, sculptured lips, and his eyebrows were well groomed, framing his hazel eyes in an almost dreamy, romantic way.
Nina, is your libido on overdrive today? Stop it!

I’d never seen anyone move so fast. I thought he’d have to wake up the old codger to untangle himself. Nope. He grabbed the two headrests and brought both legs up and over the sleeping form like a gymnast.

“You have no idea how grateful I am right now.” He wiped down his t-shirt, sighing contentedly.

I fought the genuine smile on my face. “No problem. You would’ve been dripping in saliva by the time we landed. It’s the least I can do.”

I waited as he retrieved his bag, appreciating the flash of skin once again and swallowing when I glimpsed the dusting of hair on his abs disappearing into his jeans.

“Follow me.” I half-smiled and guided him to the front where an emergency exit row was vacant. We liked to keep these rows free, even though passengers thought they were the first to go.

The hairs on my arms tingled with his presence behind me. The cabin was way too small for the intensity he emitted.

Plastering my professional face on, I asked, “Do you know the rules of sitting here?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “There are rules?”

I nodded. “Yes. You have to alert the crew if you see smoke or anything suspicious, and if there’s an emergency you have to help with opening the doors, guiding passengers down to the life rafts, and generally providing assistance. Can you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and a whiff of body spray hit me. It was musky… bedroomy, and should’ve been banned for the amount of pheromones he kicked in my body.

24B nodded. “No worries. I can do that.”

“Great. Thanks.” I turned to go. Ms. Klein would be furious at me for taking so long. I hoped she’d grant me leniency seeing as I was nice to a passenger. I didn’t have to move him, but how could anyone refuse those sad, pleading eyes?

Any minute now the blasted exam would start. I had to be in the right frame of mind.

A strong hand lassoed onto my arm.  “Hey. What’s your name?”

His eyes were so close to mine and I was buffeted by his scent again.

Shaking myself out of the musk-induced stupor, I pointed to my boob.

He squinted, taking his sweet time looking. “Nina.” The way he drew out the ‘A’ did funny things to my insides.

I titled my head, hating how my stomach turned into a rumpled mess of nerves. If I didn’t know any better, I’d of sworn my breakfast had come alive and was determined on making me suffer. “You have a problem with my name?”

He chuckled. “No, not at all. I like that your name starts with an N. Mine does, too.”

I knew he was setting me up to ask, but I did anyway. “And what’s your name?”

“Nikolai. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out to shake.

I didn’t take it as a loud beeping of the phone in the rear galley sounded. Crap. The exam had started. “Sorry, I have to go.”

Leaving him, I dashed down the aisle in my tight uniform skirt, very aware he was probably staring at my ass. I steadied my breathing before picking up the phone. “Yes?”