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He agreed with her views in this instance, but he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Do you have the numbers to back that up?”
“Not exact statistics,” she peeked at him, her lips curling up. “But I think it’s pretty safe to say that four out of five of them fail.”
He flinched. “Ouch. Though, I agree. I’ve seen it happen.” He pointed at her. “But you need a good reason for boyfriend not to come along—or he’ll look like a loser.”
She tapped her fingers on her leg. “You might have a point. If he’s supposed to be as wonderful as Susan’s fiancé, why can’t he come with me to the wedding? Hmmm… Maybe he needs to work.”
“When is the wedding again?”
“Saturday, and Susan is my younger sister. She is marrying the perfect boy she dated in her perfect senior year of high school, the only man she ever slept with, blah, blah, blah.” She waved her hands in a circle, then rolled her eyes. “You get the point.”
“Sounds like she’s perfect,” he quipped.
“Yeah, pretty much.” She grinned, then took another sip. Watching her pink lips, he’d never been so fucking jealous of a cup before. “And then there’s me, with no one special in my life. No one I’ve ever been serious about, anyway. Just flings. But my family doesn’t want to hear that. They want weddings and love and security.”
“So you made him up to get them off your back?”
“Exactly. I’m the shame of the Moriarity family. It may seem a bit old-fashioned, but they think a woman of a certain age needs to be married with kids. The fact that I don’t have a boyfriend, and—gasp!—my younger sister is getting married before me…well, let’s just say it’s code orange for my parents. It’s a bit melodramatic, but there it is. I made up a boyfriend just so they don’t worry about me. In all reality, I don’t even want one. But if they knew that, they’d have it in their head that I’m miserable up in Maine all by myself.”
Oh, he knew how that went. He was also one of the only ones in his family who wasn’t seeing anyone. His mother was constantly suggesting nice women she knew. He lifted his glass to Kayla and took a drink. “I’m right there with you on the lack of relationships thing. A few months ago, my mother went so far as to chase down a woman in a parking lot to get her phone number for her ‘hero son fighting overseas.’”
Kayla choked on a snort. “You’re making that up.”
“I wish I was,” he said solemnly. “But it’s a true story. One among many I could bore you with the whole flight.”
She burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach. He had a feeling the drink had more to do with her amusement than him, but he’d take it. She was intoxicating when she laughed. After she recovered, she swiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. “Oh my God, I would literally pay to see that. I’m not even kidding.”
Truth be told, he would’ve too. His mother could be downright formidable when she was set on a goal, even if she wasn’t even five feet tall. “If Mom was here with us right now, she’d be whispering little tidbits of information about me into your ear that would make you more inclined to make an honest man of me. Like one of those little angels on your shoulder you see in movies, only much more devious.”
“Ooh, do tell.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him, with her legs tucked under her. “What would she say to me?”
Her skirt hiked up, teasing him. His fingers itched to trace the hem and inch it a little bit higher on her thigh. Just an inch higher…
He pressed his lips together and shook his head, more at himself than at her question. He opened the package with the blanket and threw it over them. If nothing else, it would hide her tempting legs from his view. “No way. We’re talking about you and your penchant for fake boyfriends. Not me.”
She smoothed the blanket over their legs, pouting. “Not fair.”
“Who said life is fair?” He scooted a little bit closer, cursing the armrest that stood in his way. She tensed, but didn’t move away. “Tell me what your boyfriend would be doing right now, if he was here instead of me.”
“Why bother? He’s fake.”
He shook his head and sighed. “But for the purpose of your family, he’s real. How about we use the rest of the flight to come up with realistic stories? I’ll be your muse.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. If you were my boyfriend, you’d be doing exactly what you’re doing. Touching me. Kissing me. Making me forget I’m about to crash to my fiery death. You know. Boyfriend crap.”
After glancing around and making sure the stewardess wasn’t behind him and that the rest of the passengers weren’t watching, he cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes. “If you remember the fact that you might die soon, then I’m not doing a good enough job, am I?”
A flush spread out from underneath his fingers to her nose and she scooted back a little bit. “I didn’t mean—”
“Too late.” His heart pounded in his ears, pronouncing his desire for her with each racing beat. Hoping he wasn’t completely misreading her attraction to him, he leaned forward and melded her mouth to his again. She sighed and opened to him, and he threaded his hands into her hair. He kept the kiss light and teasing, pulling away to suck her lower lip.
Releasing her, he tried to take a deep breath. “Christ, you taste so damn good.”
He didn’t want her to think he was trying to get her into bed, nor did he want to take advantage of her when she was tipsy. But truthfully, he kind of was trying to get her into bed. Even if he hadn’t been originally.
His intentions were no longer crystal c
lear.
