Page 126 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

I reached for the radio that wasn’t working but I was still hoping to beat the damn thing to life. My fingers reached for the wires, tugging and pushing and shaking. I couldn’t really see what I was doing, but it wasn’t like it mattered. The radio was broken. Dead. It was just another reminder of how hard that crash had been.

Pickle’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. He blinked several times, trying to orient himself in the dim light.

“Janna?” His voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and confused.

“I’m here,” I said, leaning closer. “You’re okay. We’re still in the cooler.”

He tried to sit up but winced, his hand going to his head. “What happened? Where are we?”

“The helicopter went down. We crashed on Main Street. You hit your head pretty hard. We’re at Martha’s, hiding in the walk-in cooler.”

His brow furrowed as he processed this information. “The fire?”

“All around us. But we’re safe for now.”

Pickle’s eyes cleared slightly, and he looked at me with growing awareness. “Janna, you need to get out of here. Leave me.”

I laughed, though it came out more like a cough. “No way. Not happening. We’re getting out of this together or not at all.”

“I’m serious.” His voice was getting stronger, more urgent. “I’m slowing you down. You could make it on your own.”

“Pickle, stop. I’m not leaving you.”

He struggled to focus, his eyes drifting to the broken radio in my hands. “Did you radio in our location?”

“It’s dead. The crash destroyed it.”

I felt like a failure. I couldn’t even call it in. I was the one letting him down. My emotions were all over the place. I felt weepy. And sad. And then angry. So angry I was in the position I was in. If I’d been in a spotter plane like I was hired to do, I wouldn’t be here.

I hated fucking helicopters.

As quickly as the thoughts crossed my mind, they were replaced with images of the girl we’d saved and her father. We did some good. I would have to be satisfied with that thought. It was the only thing that offered any solace as we waited to see what happened. My only comfort was knowing the smoke would knock us out before the flames claimed our bodies.

“Rescue?” Pickle choked out.

How in the hell was I supposed to tell him there was no rescue? That our only chance would be to run for the hills on the other side of town. I couldn’t tell him that because he physically couldn’t do it.

I decided to lie. Let the man die with hope. He didn’t need to know how dire our situation was.

“They’re coming,” I said. I waited for his response. “Pickle?”

He was out again.

I sighed. Grateful he didn’t know. Jealous that he was able to sleep.

I let my head fall back against the cold metal wall and closed my eyes. The fight was leaving me, seeping out like air from a punctured tire. My arms felt like lead weights, and every breath was a monumental effort.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how it ended for me.

I thought about the life I’d never get to live. The promotions I’d never earn, the places I’d never see. I’d always planned to travel more after I got established in my career. Paris, maybe. Or New Zealand. I’d seen pictures of the countryside there and always thought it looked peaceful.

I’d never get married. Never walk down an aisle in a white dress while my dad tried not to cry. Never have kids who would roll their eyes at my terrible jokes the way I used to roll my eyes at his. I’d never get to be the kind of mother mine had been.

I’d never get to buy a house. Something small with a garden where I could grow tomatoes and herbs. I’d always imagined having a dog, maybe a golden retriever who would greet me at the door after long days at work. Simple things. Normal things that most people took for granted. Things I always assumed I would have time for later. When the timing was right.

And Dalton. God, what we could have been if we’d both been braver. If he’d let me in and I’d been more patient with his walls. Maybe we could have had something real. Maybe I could have helped him heal from whatever ghosts haunted him.

And then I heard him.