BLAKE used his elbow to ring the bell, his hands full of flight-simulator equipment.
The door opened a few seconds later, and Molly, dressed in snug jeans and a green silky top with some kind of fluttery sleeves, smiled in welcome, Samita by her side. Her feet were bare, soft pink polish on her toenails.
No music came from inside today, which was a good thing. Although those dainty toes…
He swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Come in.”
Too late to run now. He’d gone out last night for some liquid courage, hoping to get up the nerve to call her and say he’d had second thoughts. He’d run into Mark at the bar and immediately tensed, but his buddy had surprised him by clapping him on the back and wishing him luck.
“With what?” he’d asked.
Mark had responded with raised eyebrows, slugging back his first shot of whiskey and then asking for another.
His friend knew.
The serial dater of Dutch Harbor was actually stepping aside instead of pursuing a woman who’d caught his interest. The agreement passed between the two old friends without a word being said. Blake used to think Mark and Sammi had something special going on, but after Mark had come home from the military something changed between them. The two barely spoke any more.
He came back to the present with a bump, realizing Molly was still waiting for him to enter the house. She took some of the items from his hands as he moved past her. “The computer’s in the living room.”
The scent of some kind of grilled meat permeated the air, making his mouth water. “Whatever you’re making smells delicious.”
“Pork chops. They should be ready in a few minutes.”
Leading him to an oak, slant-front desk with delicate curved legs, she folded down the front panel, revealing a laptop computer inside. “I hope this is okay.”
“It’s fine.”
She paused for a second, and an awkward silence ensued. “Do you think you could set it up while I finish lunch?”
“Not a problem.”
He pulled the computer forward onto the desktop, and waited for it to boot up. Glancing around the room, he noted everything was neatly put away—no more boxes lining the walls. She didn’t have a lot of furniture, but what she did have looked comfortable.
A beige leather sofa, paired with a rustic plank coffee table, sat under the picture window, its sleek lines adding a modern touch to the traditional space. On top of the coffee table a trio of chunky candles had been arranged on a silver tray, a manila folder resting beside them. A small flatscreened television perched on a narrow table against an adjacent wall.
He smiled. The TV looked like a miniature version of his own. Men and women seemed to have different priorities in life. He couldn’t imagine watching the Super Bowl on a screen that size. The players would look like ants.
He turned back to the computer, finding it ready to use. He first installed the program and then set up the yoke and pedals just as Molly walked into the dining area, carrying a platter. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Yep. Can I help?”
“The salad is on the counter in the kitchen. Would you mind bringing it in?”
Blake found a crystal bowl housing an assortment of greens and tomatoes. His stomach growled at the sight. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
“It’s just down-home cooking, hope that’s all right,” Molly said as he joined her.
“I can’t think of anything better.”
A line of plump pork chops—a sauce of some kind drizzled down the center of the tray—fired up his salivary glands. Along the outside of the chops lay new potatoes, a sliver of skin peeled away from each one.
It had been ages since he’d had a meal like this one. He normally subsisted on sandwiches or pre-packaged meals. Seeing Molly standing there, her hands twisting together in uncertainty, made his chest ache with a strange sense of longing.
“Do you want wine? Or would you rather have iced tea?”
Neither. He wanted her.
But no way was he going to say that. He’d already decided he needed to hang back for a while and see how things went. His jump-in-with-both-feet tendencies were officially on vacation. “Wine would be great.”
She handed him a glass, and they sat at the table. The meal was delicious, but his eyes were on Molly as she talked about her week at the clinic and asked about his work. She leaned forward, focusing intently on him as if she really cared what his boring day-to-day routine involved.
Enough about him.
“So how are you finding the islands so far?” She sat back, sipping her wine. “They’re different than I expected.” She must have seen his frown, because she quickly added, “In a good way. I love Sammi and working at the clinic. The pace is just slower than what I’m used to.”
“Unless we have an emergency.” He remembered how lost she’d seemed at the hospital after they’d delivered their head-injury patient into the hands of other doctors. “Then it can be crazy for a while.”
“Definitely.” She paused, before setting her glass down. “Listen, about the way I ran out of the hospital the other day, I know I must have seemed totally off my rocker, but Gary, my ex, is persistent. We stopped seeing each other six months ago, but between him and my mother…well, let’s just say I was happy when this job opened up.”
“You don’t have to explain.” But it did answer a question that had lingered in his mind. She’d said she wanted to make peace with what her father had done, but he hadn’t been able figure out why she’d waited until four years after his death to do that.
She shrugged. “Just thought you should know, in case it happens again. I’m sure we’ll have more patients to transport.”
“Is he harassing you?”
“No, he’s not calling me any more, if that’s what you mean. He just makes it a point to run into me at work.” Her laugh was pained. “And my mom likes him—always has. Besides, he’s firmly planted in Anchorage. It would take a natural disaster to uproot him.”
“So you left instead.”
“That pretty much sums it up.” She cleared her throat. “So, moving on to another subject. What did you think of the sauce?”
Blake put his napkin on the table. “I think my empty plate speaks for itself.”
“It had horseradish in it.”
“You’re kidding.” The sauce had been mild and creamy with the barest hint of tang. Nothing like the molten lava he remembered his mom serving with roast beef.
“Nope.” She smiled and sipped at her wine. “Like I said, maybe you should expand your horizons.”
“Maybe I should.” His eyes met hers and held, as they’d done several times during the meal.
She cleared her throat. “Well, if you’re ready, we can take our drinks into the living room and you can show me how to work the game. I know you said you weren’t interested in helping me through a twelve-step program, so I won’t make you sit there and watch me.”
“It’s okay. We can just look at it as fun, with a little therapy thrown in for free.”
They carried their wine into the living room. Samita, who’d been lounging on the coffee table, her front feet on the manila folder, glanced up at them and yawned.
“What if I crash?” she asked.
“We’ll take some easy routes with nice long runways and work our way up to the challenging stuff.”
Her brows went up, and she took another sip of wine. “We can accomplish that all in one day?”
“No, but we could work on it a little at a time.”
Now that he’d said it, he realized what a royally stupid idea it was. He took a hefty swig of his wine. Why subject himself to the torture of sitting shoulder to shoulder with her, helping her handle the flight stick, when it was already putting all kinds of thoughts in his mind?
“Sounds like twelve steps to me,” she muttered.
“Maybe it’ll be a shorter version. Two or three steps.” He set his glass down and started the program.
Molly dragged a chair from the dining room and sat next to him. Her scent surrounded him, bringing back memories of tangled limbs and the desperate kisses they’d shared a week ago.
Hell.
He should have taken her to a public place like a video arcade, but since he already had the game this had seemed like a good idea.
Yeah. A great one.
Kind of like the decision he’d made to put his arm around her and comfort her when she’d found the picture of her father on his wall.
Comfort her. What a crock.
A quick fling had seemed easy and painless when his lips had been welded to hers. But it hadn’t been. He’d realized that the second they’d pulled away from each other.
“This was really nice of you, Blake.”
“You might not think so after an hour or two.” He positioned the chair to have access to the rudder pedals he’d placed on the floor beneath their impromptu work area.
“Okay, you can sit here in front of the computer.”
She licked her lips. “Could you do the takeoff, and I’ll just fly it for a minute or two—under optimal conditions?”
“Sure.” A sick feeling worked its way through his chest. One screw-up on his part, and he could make everything worse—could make her more afraid than ever. What had started out as a game suddenly seemed deadly serious.
He selected the absolute easiest program on the list. Molly leaned closer, the warmth and the scent of her shampoo flowed through him, lingering in places it didn’t belong. It took everything he had not to lean closer and draw it deep into his lungs. “You can help me throttle up, how’s that?”
As long as he didn’t allow himself to get any more throttled up than he already was.
The screen flickered and showed a Cessna sitting on a long stretch of runway. “Do you want the view from inside the cockpit or outside?”
“You choose.”
“Inside. It’ll seem more realistic.”
Her nose crinkled. “Great.”
He couldn’t hold back a smile. “It won’t be as bad as you think.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Switching the view, he tapped the throttle controls. “This is where much of your engine power comes from.” He showed her how to increase and decrease the prop speed until she was able to hear the high-pitched whine that signaled they had enough power. “Ready?”
“I hope so.”
“We’re going to taxi into position.” He used the foot pedals to turn the plane on the screen. Once he was lined up with the centerline of the runway, he took her hand and placed it on the throttle along with his, the coolness of her fingers in direct contrast to his overheated senses.
“We’re going to take off. Push the throttle in, slowly. That’s it.” The speed increased, the plane moving forward. “Once we reach around sixty miles per hour, I’ll pull back on the yoke to get the nose into the air.”
The virtual plane moved faster and faster. Long runways like this one bored him under normal circumstances, but something in him felt energized today. Molly would experience a little of the thrill that he did on each takeoff. He couldn’t look into her face to see if she was enjoying the experience or terrified as the wheels left the ground. “Now I’ll straighten out a little bit, climbing slowly.” He readjusted the throttle then let go of her hand to tap the altimeter on the screen. “When this reads six thousand five hundred feet, we’ll start leveling off by pushing the yoke forward until the plane is flying straight. We can go as high as twelve thousand feet, but we won’t today.”
“My heart is in my throat right now, and I’m not even doing the flying. Is that normal?”
“There is no normal. Every flight is different.”
It was true of flying. Maybe it was true of relationships as well.
Once they were at cruising altitude, he switched places with her. “All you’ll need to do is keep it in the air. We’ll do some easy turns. You don’t have to worry about other planes. It’s just you and me. With the sky all to ourselves.”
Her head swiveled to glance at him for a second, her pupils widening before she turned back to the screen.
Okay, so the sky to ourselves narrative could have been stated a little differently. His attraction was already outside the boundaries he’d established for himself, and growing fast. And seeing her behind the controls of the plane only made it worse—played a mind game on him that could easily send everything spinning out of control.
He cleared his throat. “Let’s start banking to the right.”
“What?”
“We’re going to make a turn. You’ll steer like you would a car, but do it gradually. Nothing fast. You want the wing on the right side to dip slightly, then we’ll raise it back up when we’re ready to fly straight again.”
Her teeth dug into her lip as she concentrated. “At least there are no road bumps when fake flying.”
He grinned. “We can vary the weather conditions, if you’d like.”
“No!” She glanced back at him, then saw he was joking. “Don’t even say that. I don’t want to crash my first time out.”
Neither did he. Only his crashing had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with the woman seated next to him. “You’re doing great. Now straighten back out.”
She turned too fast and the right wing bumped up, then went about twenty degrees above the horizon. A tiny yelp came from her throat as she realized what she’d done. He laid a hand on one of hers and helped her bring the plane back under control.
A half hour later, when she seemed a little more relaxed, he decided to end on a good note. “First step accomplished. You flew a plane. Are you ready to head back to the airport so we can land this thing?”
“Only if you’re the one in control.”
His body leapt for a second, and he had to remind himself they were talking about landing. Nothing else.
He directed her to do another wide swinging turn—which she aced this time. He upped the cruising speed so the return flight would take less time. “See? You’re getting it.”
Her mouth quirked to the left. “Yeah. I’m a regular stunt pilot.”
He laughed. “Not quite. But could you have pictured yourself doing this a couple of weeks ago?”
“No.” She shrugged. “But then again, I couldn’t imagine myself ever wanting to take this job a month ago. And it took a dare for me to actually get on the plane.”
“A dare?”
She nodded. “When we got to the airport that first morning I chickened out, said I couldn’t go through with it. My friend Doug had to doubledare me to get on the plane.” She must have noticed his confusion because she continued, “We’ve been friends a long time. He knows how to push my buttons.”
Friendships could turn into something else. Once the thought went through his head, he grimaced. What was with him?
“What?” Molly stared at him.
“Nothing.”
“You rolled your eyes.” Her lips tightened. “Sorry if that seems a little childish to you, but it did get me on the plane.”
If he told her what he was really disgusted at, she’d be out of there faster than you could say Assume crash positions—something he wasn’t quite ready to do.
He slid his hand across the one gripping the wheel, covering it and holding the plane in position. “Molly, look at me.”
When she did, he mustered up all the sincerity he could and let it shine through his gaze. “I promise, I wasn’t making fun of you. I think you’ve done an awesome job today. You proved you could do something you never dreamed possible.”
She looked back at him for a few seconds, then the fingers beneath his parted, allowing his fingers to drop between hers. The plane on the screen jiggled for a second at the change in pressure. Unaware of what had happened, she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
His breath stalled for a second. Did she realize they were almost holding hands? He didn’t want to move. Let their little plane run out of gas and plow into the ground for all he cared.
None of this was real. Nothing but the touch of her skin against his. The pressing of flesh to flesh.
He forced himself to ease his fingers from hers. “We should be almost to the airport.”
“Okay, tell me what to do.” Her eyes went back to the screen.
He saw the runway in the distance. “You’re going to overshoot the airport on this pass, so we’ll have time to switch places.” He glanced at her. “Unless you want to attempt the landing yourself?”
“No. Just…no.”
Scooting the foot pedals back under the table, he got ready for the change of positions. He put his hand back on the yoke, well away from where her fingers were this time. “Okay, I’ve got the wheel. Go ahead and move to your left. I’ll take it from here.”
She got up, and he changed seats with her, rearranging things and banking into the turn. As he pulled back around, he lined the plane up with the runway, explaining what he was doing, just like he’d done during their takeoff. He made a smooth descent, landing the plane with a minimal flickering of the screen.
“There, all safe and sound.” He taxied off the runway, then powered down the plane. Swiveling in his chair, he found her staring at him.
A soft flush had stolen across her cheeks, and her lips were stained a deep pink, either from gnawing on them during the flight or from some other reason. He didn’t much care which at the moment. All he knew was that the woman was gorgeous.
She took his breath away, like no other woman ever had.
“You okay?” he asked, half afraid of the answer. “
I think so…” She ran a hand through her short locks, the motion pulling the green shirt taut against her breasts.
His mouth went dry as she met his gaze and slowly lowered her hand. “Do you know what this means?”
Yes, and he could kick himself for bringing her here, where all he wanted to do was take her to bed and kiss her senseless. He needed to say something, but what?
“No, what does it mean?”
Her eyes glittered, and he prayed those weren’t tears of fear. Or anger.
“Blake…I can fly.”