Barefoot Bay: Flight Risk (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Karen Ann Dell

Author:Karen Ann Dell [Dell, Karen Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2017-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Miranda crossed her arms and held on to her ribs as the plane began its roll down the runway. She squeezed her eyes shut. Concentrate on Mom. That’s what’s important. Nothing else. She felt the momentum press her into her seat, the tires rumbling across the cement, then the split-second sensation of near weightlessness as the plane became airborne and settled into the smooth cushion of air. Surprised at the familiar sensation of exhilaration, one she hadn’t experienced for more than fifteen years, she opened her eyes and watched out the window as the ground fell away beneath her. Owen’s solid presence in the left seat, his strong hand on the controls, untied one of the knots in her stomach. She shut her eyes again and leaned back, her hands now relaxed in her lap. The takeoff had been sweet.

It was landing that scared her to death.

Think about Mom. Think about Mom. Recriminations scrolled across the inside of her eyelids. If only I had paid more attention when Neil called two days ago. I could have driven to Atlanta if I’d known how serious her problem was. But no. I had a handsome man at my door, and he was ultra-hot. Neil was an alarmist. Owen had rescued me from Hank’s mistake. Neil was a hypochondriac. Owen was … a hunk. A hunk I wanted to climb all over. So my damp panties made me blow off Neil’s worries, and now look where I am: 18,000 feet in the air. Shit. Piss. Fuck. Sorry, God, I’m breaking my potty-mouth abstinence promise. This kind of crisis calls for four-letter words. Lots of ’em.

“Everything okay back there?”

Her eyes snapped open. “Fine. I’m fine. Everything okay up there?”

Owen’s face held half a grin. She could tell he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to smile, or if she’d lean forward and puke on him.

“Your lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear you,” he explained. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t asking me about something.”

God, he was cute. Staring at him could certainly help distract her. She plastered an overly bright and somewhat maniacal grin on her face and said, “Are we there yet?”

He examined the cockpit ceiling. “Soon, love, soon.”

She pretended to close her eyes again but kept them open a slit to watch him. His polo shirt stretched taut around his biceps and hugged his broad shoulders. The blond hairs on his right forearm glinted golden in the sunlight pouring through the cockpit windows. His right hand gripped the yoke almost casually. In fact, his whole demeanor radiated comfortable command and relaxed, yet alert, oversight. The plane had autopilot, but he continued to fly manually. That she understood, all too well. She had the strangest urge to take hold of the yoke and feel the plane’s vibrations up her arms and into her bones. She had always liked the feeling of power it gave her, knowing she had control over the complicated machine. Maybe pilots who had thousands of hours under their belt liked to sit back and relax.

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