“So, you fly planes, fetch errant guests when they get stuck in the mud, and cook?” I teased politely.
Flynn turned to pass the glass of wine across the counter to me. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt of electricity sizzled up my arm. It felt as if little licks of fire chased over the surface of my skin in the wake of that subtle touch.
His hand dropped away, and I curled my fingers around the wine glass, an anchor in the moment. His lips kicked up at one corner, and my belly was tickled by the butterflies that quickly amassed.
“I don’t usually cook, but it’s not because I can’t. I’m more in charge of the flying and the fetching errant guests. Our chef quit last week, so we’re shorthanded. I’m covering until then.”
“Oh.” Brilliant answer. To mask my nervousness, I took a sip of wine, too quick, and too much. I sputtered and felt the cool wine strike my blouse as it splattered.
I met Flynn’s eyes, which held a subtle gleam. “I seem to make a mess whenever I’m near you,” I managed. My cheeks were flaming hot, and I wished I could will the heat away.
Chapter Four
Flynn
Three weeks later
“Daphne!” I called.
She turned, and her auburn hair lifted in the breeze. I’d become accustomed to the low hum of electricity that ran through my body like a repeating circuit around her and willfully ignored it.
“Yes?” She approached where I was standing beside my small Cessna plane.
In the three weeks Daphne had been here, she stopped wearing blouses and nice boots but somehow still looked like a princess. Today, she wore a pair of jeans that fit like a glove, molding to her toned thighs before disappearing into a pair of hot pink rubber boots with black polka dots. Atop that, she wore a fitted T-shirt that had Kickass Woman emblazoned in pink glitter directly over her breasts.
“Mind sitting on the wing?” I asked.
“Excuse me?” she countered in a crisp, yet incredulous tone.
“Yeah, I need a little weight to lower the back of the plane. I think you’re the perfect size.”
Daphne’s mouth fell open before she snapped it shut quickly. “I don’t even know how to interpret that comment.”
“Just being practical, princess.”
She never said a word to me about it, but I knew it annoyed her when I called her that. I just couldn’t resist getting under her skin. Perhaps it was because she was under my skin all the fucking time, in all the wrong ways. Maybe I should’ve wondered about that, but I tried to avoid thinking too much about Daphne. She invaded my senses so thoroughly, avoidance was my only escape.
“Happy to help. I just don’t think I can climb up there,” she said as she eyed the plane wing in question.
“Come here,” I replied, gesturing with a hand.
When she stepped closer, I rested my hands at her waist. Mistake. Big mistake. I’d spent three full weeks studiously avoiding getting too close to Daphne. Touching her was like touching a live wire as far as my senses were concerned. Every nerve ending sparked and vibrated to her frequency.
I had no choice but to forge ahead. I could feel the heat of her skin through her thin cotton T-shirt. I had to clear my throat to speak. “Ready?” I asked, my voice coming out husky.
Daphne’s jade eyes held mine, darkening as we stared at each other. For one completely insane second, I almost kissed her.
What snapped me out of it was when she lifted her chin slightly. She did that whenever she was uncertain about something. Those moments had become less frequent in the time she’d been here. Although she hadn’t shared much, I could’ve guessed she was a city girl through and through.
“Ready,” she whispered, the hitch in that single word sending a tendril of silk around my heart. Sweet hell. It was bad enough to want Daphne. I did not need to feel something for her.
I lifted her quickly, sliding her hips on the plane wing. As I knew it would, the plane dipped down in the back, lowering the back door to make it easier for me to help an elderly passenger in.
Against every ounce of common sense I had, my hands stayed right where they were, curled around her hips. I could feel the soft give of her flesh under my grip. When I looked up, I saw the rapid flutter of her pulse in her neck. My mouth watered. That was how much I wanted to lean forward and taste her skin.
I stepped back abruptly. “Excellent.”
After I helped the elderly woman who’d come to our lodge with her adult daughter and son-in-law into the plane and the other two passengers, I turned to help Daphne down off the wing.
I didn’t know if it was better or worse that I tried to steel myself for the jolt of lust I knew would hit me the moment I placed my hands on Daphne again.
Worse, definitely worse. Because my effort was useless.
The moment I set my hands on her hips, her scent drifted to me. For some reason, a hint of sugar clung to her. I’d never thought of anyone as delicious, but that was exactly how I knew Daphne would taste. In more ways than one.
I lifted her swiftly, practically jumping back once her feet were level on the gravel. “You get the view today,” I said as I gestured toward the front of the plane.
“I do?” Her pretty green eyes lit up, and it felt as if another tendril of silk spun around my heart.
I might be cynical, and I might be too damned busy to deal with a woman who was so clearly out of her element, but I loved how expressive Daphne was. Sometime last week, a mama moose and a pair of triplet calves were meandering through the field in front of the lodge, and Daphne’s entire face had been awash in wonder and awe.
In an effort to curb my reaction to her, my response came out sharp. “Sure do.”
Rounding the front of my small plane, I opened the door and gestured for her to climb in. Fuck me. As she climbed in, I had a perfect view of her heart-shaped ass. It sent another bolt of need slamming through me.
I was pretty sure she thought I was a fucking asshole since I was easily annoyed and with an edge of cranky whenever I was around her. All things considered, she was probably right. I was relieved she’d be gone from the lodge in another week, and I could get back to being normal, as my little sister had pointed out at the other day.
Actually, what Cat asked was, “What the hell is wrong with you, Flynn? Can’t you just be normal cranky?”
A few hours later, I had delivered three of my passengers to their next destination at a lodge on the outskirts of Willow Brook, Alaska, and was planning to head straight back home with Daphne. When she asked to go along today because she wanted to see the mountain range from above, I’d said yes, thinking we’d have company. I’d inconveniently forgotten our company was only for the first leg of the trip.
While I was making sure the compartment under the plane was properly secured, my cell phone rang. Since we were near Willow Brook, there was decent reception.
I quickly slipped the phone out of my pocket. “Flynn here,” I said.
“Hey Flynn, it’s Nate Fox. Heard you were at the airport in Willow Brook and about to head south.”
“Yep. That’s my flight plan, heading back to my place near Diamond Creek.”
“I need a favor.”
Although Alaska was geographically sprawling, there was a tight-knit sense of community amongst the residents in the small communities scattered across the state. The sense of community was even tighter in some professions, particularly that of bush pilots. We shared a sense of purpose and were often the link for many people to friends, family, supplies, medical treatment, and more.