Play with Me

He forced himself to swallow. “So, a full-time pilot, huh?” he asked, knowing the question was an inane one. But it was better than the silence that had fallen between them while she’d been occupied getting them up into the air.

It also beat looking out the window at either the ground, which was getting farther away by the minute, or the wing of the plane, which looked far too small to be the only thing keeping him from a twenty-thousand-foot crash back to mother earth.

He looked away.

“Yep.”

“Must be pretty interesting.”

“It beats being a kindergarten teacher, which was what my folks wanted me to do.”

He barked a laugh. Her. A kindergarten teacher. Right. In his mental list of other careers this woman could have, being a sedate, demure teacher wasn’t even in the top gajillion.

Actress. Seductive spy. Rock star. Designer. Sex goddess. Yeah, those he could see. But definitely not teacher.

She glanced back, one brow up, though her tiny smile told him she wasn’t truly offended. Reese sat in the first passenger seat on the opposite side of the cabin and their stares locked for just a moment before she faced forward again. “What? You think I couldn’t be a teacher?”

“Uh-uh.” He quickly held up a defensive hand. “Not that I don’t think you’re smart enough. You just don’t seem the type who’d like working with children.”

She did, however, seem the type to be fabulous at the physical act that led to children. Not that he was going to say that to a woman he’d known for less than an hour.

That’d take two, minimum.

“I’m good with kids, I’ll have you know,” she insisted. “My friends’ and cousins’ kids love me.”

He didn’t doubt it. “Because you bring them cool stuff from your travels and you fly an airplane?”

She shrugged, not denying it. Nor did she turn around, keeping her eyes on the sky ahead of her. Which was good. He much preferred his pilot to be on the lookout for any random high-flying helicopters or low-flying space shuttles.

“I’m not knocking it,” he said. “I’m the king of doling out loud toys to my sister’s kids. I know the gifts will drive her crazy long after I’m gone.”

She laughed, low and long, as if reminiscing at some personal memory. Amanda Bauer’s warm chuckle seemed to ride across the air inside the cabin and brush against him like a soft breeze on a summer day. He could almost feel it.

Reese shifted in his seat, trying to keep focused on small talk and chitchat. Not on how much he wanted to feel her laughter against his lips so he could inhale the very air she breathed.

“Believe it or not, I think I’d have been a hell of a good teacher.”

“Uh-huh. I can hear five-year-old Brittany coming home to tell Mommy she had a hell of a good time learning her ABCs that day.”

She still didn’t turn around. She didn’t have to. Her reaction was made plain by the casual lift of her right hand and the quick flash of her middle finger.

“Hey, both hands on the steering wheel, lady,” he said, his shoulders shaking in amusement. His sexy, private pilot had just flipped him off. Damn, he liked this woman. He took no offense. In fact, he was more grateful than anything else that she had already grown so comfortable with him.

It was strange, since they’d just met, but he felt the same way. Oh, not with the fact that he was in a tiny plane far above the ground … but with her. Like he could say just about anything and it would roll off her back. She had such an easygoing way about her. It went well with the adventurous spirit that put her in the cockpit of a plane wearing go-go boots and booty shorts.

Personally, he had the feeling they were going to get along tremendously. He felt more relaxed with her than he had with anyone—including just himself—in months.

Except for the whole being-in-a-small-plane thing. Which he was trying to forget.

“Okay, I apologize,” he said. “I’m sure you would have been great. But I think any mother with a brain cell in her head would insist her kid be moved out of your class before the father attended his first parent-teacher conference.”

She didn’t respond. But the middle finger didn’t come up, either.

“Now, back to the subject. Your job. I guess you like to fly, huh?”

Before she could answer, the plane rose suddenly, then dropped hard, though not far, just like a kite being lifted and gently tossed by an unexpected gust. “Jesus …”

“Don’t worry, it was just an air pocket. It’s completely normal. In a jet this size, we just feel the turbulence a bit more than you’re used to.”

Why one little pocket of air was any different than the rest of the big, vast atmosphere, he had no idea. He just knew he didn’t like it. “Okay, uh, stay away from those pockets, would you please?”

“Sure,” she said with a snort and, though he couldn’t see it, probably an eye roll. “I’ll just watch for the yellow hazard signs and steer around them.”

“Your empathy would have been a real help in a job teaching young children.”

Instead of being insulted, she snickered, a cute, self-deprecating sound. “Sorry.” Then, though she didn’t turn completely around, her eyes shifted slightly. Enough to catch a glimpse at his probably tense face. “I like flying better than you, I take it?”

“It’s not my favorite thing to do.”

“And I bet it’s even worse when you’re not tucked inside the belly of a huge 747, trying not to catch the mood of all the other nervous flyers who are envisioning the worst?”

“Exactly.”

She 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!”