nodded once, then offered, “Doesn’t it help to think something smaller would be easier to keep aloft than some big, monstrous commercial airliner? Just like a feather on the breeze?”
“No,” he admitted. “Actually, all I keep thinking about is the whole man/wings thing.”
“Relax. I haven’t crashed in, oh, a good month at least.”
Not appreciating the joke, he stared, his eyes narrowed. “My luck, I get the comedian in hot pants for the pilot.”
“Sorry. Just figured if you laugh a little, you might relax.”
“Say something that’s actually funny and I might.” Though, he doubted it. A tranquilizer or a shot of gin might help him calm down. Or this woman’s hands. Then again, if this woman’s hands ever did land on him, calm almost certainly would not describe his mood.
“Why don’t you try closing your eyes and just pretending you’re somewhere else?”
“Pretend?”
“You know. Fantasize.” Her voice melodic, as if she were a hypnotist, she provided a fantasy. “You’re in a safe, solid car driving up a mountain pass toward a beautiful old hotel.”
“Okay, this isn’t helping. I’m thinking Jack Nicholson heading toward that hotel in The Shining.”
She huffed out a breath. “It’s an exclusive ski lodge, glamorous, not haunted. Around you is nothing but pristine, white snow, blue sky, clear air.”
“Guys with axes …”
“Don’t make me come back there!”
“Okay, okay,” he said with a grimace.
Reese closed his eyes and tried to see it. He really did. But he could conjure up no mountain pass. No car. No ski lodge.
A curvy snow-bunny wearing a fluffy hat, skimpy shorts and skis … that was about as close as he could get.
He sighed. Not necessarily because it was a bad thing, but because the vision was so damn hot, it had him a little dizzy.
“Don’t use your imagination much, I guess. I should have known.”
His eyes flew open. “I have an imagination.”
“Uh-huh. Let me guess, most of the time what you imagine is getting through the next sales meeting or closing some big business deal.”
Reese shifted a little, not answering. Up until he’d walked up to her on the tarmac, that had been pretty accurate. Since then, though, he’d been imagining a few other things. But to tell her she was wrong meant to spill those thoughts, which he wasn’t about to do—again, at least not after a one-hour acquaintance.
Though, two was looking better all the time.
The plane bounced again, quickly, up and down. Reese’s stomach bounced with it—at least, on the way up. It didn’t go all the way down and settle back into place.
He felt the blood drain from his cheeks. “I think we just ran over a moose. Or a lost skier.”
“There’s a small fridge between the seats. You look like you could use a drink.” She chuckled. “Or a Valium.”
“Wow. That is first-class service.”
“Kidding.”
“Yeah. I figured that,” he said, ignoring the offer. He didn’t need a drink. He just needed a distraction.
Fortunately, one of the sexiest ones he had ever seen was sitting just a few feet away. As long as he didn’t humiliate himself by losing his lunch on the floor of her pristine jet, he fully intended to enjoy spending this flight in her company.
And maybe more than that.
After all, why shouldn’t he? He already liked her sense of humor, the competent way she handled the controls, the low laughter. There was a lot to like about this woman beyond her killer legs. Not to mention the rest of the physical package. She was quick and witty, sharp, smart. Lots to like. Lots to want.
And he could like her, want her … maybe even have her, without any of the complications that would arise if he were within fifty miles of home. There, he never felt free to do something for no other reason than the fact that he wanted to. The idea of heaving aside all that responsibility for a little while, of grabbing on to a good thing and enjoying the hell out of it just because he could, was incredibly appealing.
“Is this your first time chartering?” she asked.
The plane jiggled the tiniest bit and he instinctively clutched the armrests. “That obvious, huh?”
“You have that first-timers glow.”
Huh. Did vampires glow? Because he figured his face was probably as white as one.
“Must be a pretty important trip.”
He shook his head. “You’d think so, right? But I’m actually headed to a Halloween party.”
She glanced over her shoulder in surprise. Reese waved toward the front, “Keep your eyes on the road, please.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to drive into the back of a slow-moving semi doing fifty during rush hour.”
He’d just be happy if she didn’t drive into the back of a slow-flying goose. A big Canadian one.
Oh, God, one of those had brought down a huge airliner, hadn’t it?
Stop thinking about it.
Right. He had much better things to think about. The way his family business was booming under his management, even in this bad economy. The success of their first nationwide marketing campaign. The house he’d just finished remodeling and considered his private fortress in the middle of his crazy world. The sexy pilot in hot pants whom he now kept picturing on skis, and whose downhill slopes he would very much like to explore. Much better things.
“So, Halloween party, huh?” she said. “If this is you dressing up, what do you regularly look like? I mean, in your real life, are you a biker-dude who usually wears black leather and chains? Only for the occasion, you’re dressing up as a boring businessman?”
Reese leaned forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees, and stared at the back of her silky-haired head. “Ahem. Boring?”
“It was a joke. I was just trying to distract you.”
Maybe. Or maybe she really did think he looked boring.
He should have felt a little insulted. Reese had been fending off most of the single women in his small hometown since his high school days. Most of them. He definitely hadn’t fended off all, at least not before two years ago when his life had gotten so out of whack. And he had enjoyed his share of discreet flings through the years. Could’ve had enough to qualify as a half-dozen guys’ shares if he’d felt like it. His sisters were forever cackling over some of the ways in which the hungry local females tried to get his attention.
True, the females in question were no longer the twentysomething party girls who’d gone through his revolving bedroom door a few years ago. They were now career women who saw the steady businessman with a nice income and a reputation as being a great guy who stepped up for his family. But there were still quite a few of them and they definitely wouldn’t say no if he ever started asking again.
He wasn’t the hottest dude in the known universe, and he suspected the money that flowed from his family’s successful brewery was partially responsible for the attention. But nobody had ever called him boring before, that was for sure.
Damn, that was harsh.
And damn, she was right. To hell with all the mental pumping about how great business was, and how many women had made plays for him. His personal life was exactly what this beautiful woman imagined it to be.
Boring.