Page 11 of Something Old

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Her eyes widened, and she let out a nervous laugh. “Seriously. Where’s the pilot, and the rest of the passengers? Aren’t Brigid and Anna coming over too?”

He shook his head once. “Nope, not that I’m aware of. Actually, I wasn’t expecting you either. Caroline asked me to bring over some special wine for her wedding and a special package. My guess is that’s you.”

She scowled at a piece of paper in her hand. She grimaced, reflecting the argument she was having with herself. He opened the airplane door and tossed the clipboard inside. He strode over the twenty feet or so and jerked his head toward her bags. “You coming or not? It’s me or the ferry. I hear the Gulf is a little rough right now. The boat will be rocking all over the place.”

Alarm skittered across her face and she turned a little green at the thought of the boat, then she glanced back and forth between the plane and him.

Finally, she replied, in her prim, princess voice, “Are you qualified to fly that thing?”

“Since I’ve owned it for two years and been licensed for four, I’d say yes. No accidents yet. But there’s always a first time.” He rocked back on his heels and smirked at her widened eyes. He never remembered getting much of a reaction out of her, but now she was off balance, and he found an off-balance Delaney to be intriguing.

“I didn’t know you were a pilot.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. I like flying. Gives me freedom to go all over Texas whenever I want. Are you coming or not?”

She bit her lower lip and glanced at the gate and at the charter flights. A spurt of anger darted inside him. The flash of anger surprised him, the possessiveness, the overdeveloped sense of responsibility toward her motivating his actions. He’d have to tamp that down if he wanted to get her out of his system this week. But the fierceness rode him hard, his body clenching at her closeness. No way was his Delaney going to fly with anyone but him. Even if she wasn’t his anymore.

He grabbed her bag and the garment bag and strode toward the plane. Delaney charged after him, tugging at his arm. He opened the door and tossed her bags in the back, then slammed the door.

“Decision made. Let’s go.”

She dug in her heels and crossed her arms in front of her. “I didn’t agree to go with you.”

“You waited too long.” He took a step back, needing the distance, and studied her face. “You were never indecisive, Delaney. You’ve changed.”

“We’ve all changed. I still don’t like your He-Man, take charge attitude. You’re not the boss of me.”

He crowded her against the plane, tilted back the hat, and placed a hand next to her head, not understanding the impulse that made him push her, only that he hated her remote coolness and needed to shake her up. Leaning close, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. It was a distinct scent, like so much of her. She stepped back against the hot metal of the plane but met his gaze defiantly. He leaned close enough to smell her breath. He caught the scents of coffee beans mixed with something else. Hazelnut, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“It’s been a while.” His voice lowered and came out huskier than he had expected, sharp need coursing through him.

Her eyes widened again, and her chest heaved. She swallowed but never broke the connection. A hunger burned in her eyes, burned for him and the explosive combination that they were. They weren’t over, not by a long shot.

She lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek, the coolness of her skin soft against the rough bristle of his three-day growth. “I never forgot you, Ethan.”

Her quiet words slammed into him like a windstorm and forced him into action. He pushed away and opened the door to the cockpit.

“You’ll ride up front with me. Side door.”


Tags: Megan Ryder Romance