Page 4 of Mile High Heist

Julie was on probation like me. She was excited to board the plane for her first international run.

Me? Not so much.

Usually, I had a fondness for airports. I liked the busy atmosphere, the charged excitement of honeymooners and vacationers, even the studious quiet of business travelers. I liked the bright kiosks and twenty-four-hour chain stores. I was a total slut for the duty-free mall. Now it all filled me with a nauseating dread. The tinny voice announcing the flight activities might as well have been Satan himself. Strap in, Olivia, he announced gleefully. There will be turbulence.

As we approached the premium lounge, the stomachache I’d been ruthlessly fighting took a sharp turn. Please, god, don’t let me get travel belly.

I’d rather fly through a monsoon.

I faltered slightly, but Lucille was quick to catch me. “Keep up, Emily!” She snapped over her shoulder. “If we are delayed by even a minute, it can have serious ramifications…”

I didn’t hear the rest of what she said.

My attention was thoroughly stolen by the six-foot-two blond man sitting in the premium lounge, nursing a whiskey with a thunderous expression. Even though it had only been four months since we'd last seen each other, I was unprepared for the sight of him.

Jax in a suit.

Jax with his dirty blond hair cropped short at the sides, styled longer on top, with just a shadow of stubble across that infuriatingly sharp jawline.

Jax sitting patiently in a room full of lawyers, not punching, shooting, or maiming anyone.

Preacher got his wish. Hell had truly frozen over.

“It’s intense, isn’t it?” Julie observed quietly.

I kept my gaze pinned on Jax as we approached. He wasn’t alone. His youngest crew member, Ryle, sat beside him, posing as his assistant. He was talking at Jax with his usual mile-a-minute gusto. I missed him.

Ryle, not Jax.

I definitely didn’t miss Jax. Screw that guy.

“What is?” I asked absently.

“All the attention,” Julie said, clearing her throat as if uncomfortable. It was then I noticed how the room was leering at us; at least a dozen heads snapped up and tracked our path intently. The other flight attendants were either oblivious or well-versed with such attention.

“It’s the uniform,” Julie said. She walked a little taller. “It’s like a dumb fantasy of theirs. We’re not even on the plane, and I’m already suffocating from testosterone and Italian leather.”

My answering chuckle sounded like a choking cat. Of course, that was the moment Jax looked up. I watched in real time as those Nordic blue eyes darkened. Unlike everyone else, his gaze felt like a physical blow, sinking straight into my bones and turning them brittle. Fragile. His expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened on his glass.

Just like that, I was transported back to the day we met. The island. I’d been looking for Molly, following a lead that turned out to be the right one. Jax and his crew had been sent to steal from the island’s sole resident, the now-deceased Theodore Salvadore. In a strange twist of fate, our paths had crossed. I’d struck a deal with Jax—help me uncover the truth, and I would keep my silence about him and his crew.

It sounded simple in theory, but it wasn’t. It got complicated and bloody and dangerous real fast.

But there were some good parts, the parts I hadn’t buried beneath a nice protective layer of PTSD. The hot hands and violent kisses. The clash of our bodies. The sharp, twisted desire that I couldn’t shake, even four months on.

And, oh, the balcony.

My knees ached with phantom bruises, my mouth suddenly dry. Jax was the most impulsive, reckless, uncharacteristic thing I’d ever done. He was the reason I stared at my phone for hours, waiting for a text back like a hopeless lovesick loser.

I’m already your past, princess.

Chest tight, I forced myself to look away. And if I walked with just a little bit more sway to my hips and an exaggerated swing to my ponytail, that was completely unrelated.

I had to impress Lucille, after all.

2

JAX