traveled around, preferring not to be pinned down anywhere.”
“Oh yeah? Why so?”
“Well, at the hotel your badge said you were from Washington. You sound like you’re from up North, not the Pacific Northwest.” He gives me a skeptical look. “And you moved down here with what...four bags? Strikes me as someone living on the fly.”
“More like someone just trying to experience life before I settle down.”
“I get that.” He nods, briefly lost in thought.
“So you’re the GM and the flight instructor?” That explains why this place is in the state it’s in. The owner is distracted with everything outside of his business and this guy’s carrying the load of two jobs. Maybe more.
“Yeah.” He rubs his palms over his eyes and stretches his shoulders back before he returns to brace himself against the wall. “I contract with other schools as well. Or I use to until this grew.”
My mind flashes back to the beach and it’s as if I have x-ray vision as I imagine his muscles rippling under his clothes.
“Well, now you have me here to help. I aim to please.” It’s a simple line that has no secondary meaning until I look from his green eyes and a muscle in his jaw jumps.
Drawn from my current reality, I go to a fantasy place where we take off all our clothes and try to steam up this little space to the point where it rains inside. He stands there all cocksure and large, his strong arms corded with muscles. Even his large black aviator’s watch turns me on. His white T-shirt stretches tightly across his chest, hinting at what I know is underneath.
“So, ah, you want to show me what you’re doing here? I mean, about all this.” He pushes off the wall and gestures to the reorganized storage area.
“Sure, and if you have a minute I’d like to schedule some time with you to go over the books. There’re some things I don’t understand.”
“There are lots of things I don’t seem to understand,” he mumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Well, let me show you.” I turn back on the ladder. Using everything I have in reserve to not go primal and jump him, I channel the energy into showing him how I’ve organized the old files and stored them overhead. Inside the cabinet, easily obtained, are all the current records needed at a moment’s notice. I’ve also inventoried the office supplies and am keeping a running list on the computer stationed at my desk as well as a purchasing calendar. No more running out of fuel while I’m in charge.
“Wow, I don’t think this company has ever been this organized. What about the mess out there?” He points to the outer offices before he steps back and gestures for me to precede him. The space is small enough that I have to turn sideways to get past him. When I do, our fronts brush against each other and I place my hands on his biceps.
“Excuse me,” I say. Even in heels, my head reaches only slightly above his collarbone, and when I look at him, I see McRae in a whole new light. Perhaps he won’t need as much priming as I first thought.
Maybe it’s because I’m satisfied from all of today’s organization or because I really like this town. Maybe it’s how studly he looks in the flight gear or that he looks driven. Whatever the reason, I want him not because he’s cut from the cloth of gods, but because there’s loneliness in him I identify with. How his smile doesn’t always reach his eyes or that he thinks happiness can be found in a sweater-set-and-pearl-wearing socialite who’s likely been conditioned to climb the social ladder. A lifestyle like that never brought me happiness, and McRae is disillusioned if he thinks it will bring some to him. He’s got too much depth for the vapidness of pageantry.
He stares down at me and his green eyes wander to my piercing. His lips twitch. The sound of his vibrating phone breaks whatever was passing between us.
Rolling my eyes, I move out into the main office and see why he was so