“So, how’s the Babymoon so far?”
This question throws me for such a loop I nearly tumble off the massage table.
“What? How did you…?”
I trail off, not knowing what to say. But then I think, why should I be embarrassed? It’s my choice to have a baby by myself, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Guess you heard everything, huh? We thought you couldn’t hear us with that big ol’ headset and the loud plane.”
That’s when I really take notice of Austin’s face. He has kind gray eyes that crinkle when he smiles. His close-cropped hair and clean-shaven face make me think he could be ex-military. His face is tanned and weathered, just as I would imagine a bush pilot would look. He has full lips that I’ve yet to see break into a smile and a jaw so firm I could crack walnuts on.
“Some of the things people talk about when they think I can’t hear would turn your hair white,” he remarks.
My eyes widen, and I’m thrilled about the change of subject. “Like what?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
I laugh, but Austin remains serious. Then, without breaking into a smile, he says, “I’m kidding.”
And now, I don’t know if I’m in the presence of someone whom criminals pay to keep secrets or if he’s teasing me and being awkward about it. I don’t know what to make of this Austin Fisher, and that’s troubling. Troubling because his energy draws me in at the same time he seems to be pulling away. That’s just my dormant sensual side waking up in the presence of a rugged, stern, powerful man with a chiseled jaw. My vagina may not care that he’s not interested. But I have my pride, and my vibrator.
I relax again on the table and let the masseuse’s strong hands lull me back into a dreamlike state.
“By the way… thanks for getting rid of those guys. I could have handled it on my own, but things were about to get uncomfortable.”
“It was nothing. Those guys were dicks, and I have to look out for guests, even when I’m on vacation.”
“You’re on vacation, too?”
He nods, explaining that his next chartered flight is when Jax and I go back to Pearl Island International Airport to catch our flight home.
Before I can control my mouth, I say, “You should join Jax and me on the volcano tour tomorrow,” I offer.
Austin rumbles. “You don’t want me hanging around like a third wheel on your girls’ trip.”
Adele, the masseuse, snorts. “Man wouldn’t know a good opportunity if it bit him in the ass,” she mutters.
Austin’s masseur abruptly starts in on a chopping, deep-tissue massage that startles him. “Whoa!” he exclaims. “Careful back there.”
But the male massage therapist working on Austin seems to be taking out some kind of vexation. “Adele’s right. You need to loosen up. Besides, you can show the ladies around the island.”
“Nobody wants me raining on their parade; not this old bush pilot,” Austin says.
Why he would think that I have no idea. “I think you’re being humble. I bet you’re great company. Go on, tell me about your most exciting passenger. I’d love to hear it,” I urge.
Austin sighs in a way that tells me he doesn’t enjoy bragging about himself. “My most interesting passenger would have to be about fifty packs of diapers.”
“Excuse me?”
I’m hanging on his every word, and yet I can’t deny the sweet darkness that envelops me with the sound of the crashing waves. I drop out just as he’s telling me about flying supplies—including diapers—into southern Florida in the aftermath of a hurricane. “No trucks or commercial jets could get in or out, so I flew with as much cargo as my little plane could carry.”
I want to hear more, but soon everything is just too cozy, and his voice is too perfect for helping me drift off to sleep. I dream about the handsome, rugged pilot transporting emergency diapers and baby formula across a ravaged seaside landscape, and I’m not going to lie. This dream is thirstier than a nap in hell.
Chapter Five
Austin
How long am I going to lie here and watch Sierra sleep?