Page 32 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

12

JANNA

Ifelt the giddy flutter of anticipation in my chest as I spotted Dalton by the spotter plane, clipboard in hand and grimace in place. Even his shitty mood was not going to get me down. Chief had told me I was going up today. I was itching to get into the cockpit. I had donned the flight suit even though Laser told me it wasn’t necessary for training runs. I figured I may as well get used to wearing the damn thing. It wasn’t exactly high fashion, but this wasn’t a fashion show.

It was a little big but I totally made it work. I didn’t have the boobs Laser did, but I did leave it unzipped to just above my cleavage. The boots were mine. I felt ready and like a real fire pilot ready to kick some fire ass.

Dalton looked up as I approached, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses even though the sun had barely cleared the horizon. Because of course he wore aviators. Probably slept in them. He was wearing a flight suit as well and fuck me, it was hot. My panties got damp just seeing him look all sexy and amazing.

I never really thought Tom Cruise was all that and a bag of chips, but the other pilots in that Top Gun movie were downright sinful. Dalton looked better than any of them. He wasn’t Hollywood gorgeous. Nope, he was better because he was rugged and real. And that alpha-dick thing he had going was pretty sexy as well.

“You’re flying today,” he said.

It took everything in me not to fist-pump the air. “I know. Chief told me. Hence the matching outfits.”

I didn’t have to see his eyes to know they were rolling in his head. I was purposely playing up the ditzy blonde. I didn’t know why he made me want to mess with him. He already knew I knew how to fly. I had proven that in his little simulator. I couldn’t resist screwing with him. I had pulled my hair back in a ponytail and wore one of the baseball caps Chief gave me. I had my own aviators on. Two could play at his little game. I knew he was physically attracted to me, even if he hated me. And that was what I was going to have fun with.

Dalton tilted his head toward the plane. “We’ll run through preflight first. You know the drill.”

Yes, I did know the drill. I’d flown more hours than most commercial co-pilots twice my age. But sure, go ahead and walk me through it like I was actually the ditzy blonde I pretended to be.

I bit back the irritation I felt at being treated like a total newbie and followed him around the aircraft. The urge to make smartass comments as he pointed out each step like I was a wide-eyed student pilot seeing her first propeller was strong. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to mount him or kick his ass. Although doing both certainly held some appeal. I could get down with a little slap and tickle.

“Check fuel cap for seal integrity,” he said, gesturing.

“Already did,” I replied, voice sugar sweet. “Three times.”

He didn’t even blink. Just moved on. “Control surfaces free and clear.”

“Yep,” I said. “Just like the checklist says.”

He glanced over at me. “It’s not about the checklist. It’s about muscle memory. You do it enough, it saves your life one day.”

Oh, he was definitely trying to be the grizzled mentor this morning. I didn’t know who pissed in his cheerios but it was getting really fucking old. “You’re assuming I don’t already have muscle memory.”

“You don’t. Not for this plane. Not for this area.”

“You know, back in Alaska, it was like me and two guys. I bet it would blow your mind to know I once had to make an emergency landing in the Alaskan bush and fix my own damn engine. I had no phone. No radio. Just me and my pretty little face and a toolbox. And since I’m standing in front of you right now, I guess you can figure out I managed just fine. I would never dare suggest I know a little more about this particular plane than you do, but they’re not all that different.”

“They’re different enough that it’s worth getting familiar with them. You know a lot but you don’t know it all.”

I blew out a breath through my nose. “I know how to do a walkaround without a babysitter.”

He didn’t respond, but the tic in his jaw said plenty. I rubbed him the wrong way, like a sandpaper tissue. Good. He kept intentionally getting under my skin. I was more than happy to serve it back to him.

We finished the checks in stiff silence. I could feel him judging me and it was making me crazy. I didn’t even know why I wanted to impress him. Dalton wasn’t the type to give praise. He only knew how to criticize and complain. Nothing and no one were good enough. Getting his approval felt about as useful as a cotton candy dildo. Completely futile, sticky, and messy.

“Do you feel ready?” he asked.

“Yes!” I practically shouted.

We’d been walking around the damn plane for an hour. I didn’t know if I could get any more ready.

“You know if you miss something, there is no mercy up there,” he said.

I couldn’t resist the comeback. I had enough. “Look, buddy, I’ve had more than twenty-five hundred hours of flight time. I’m not a novice. I don’t know what your deal is, but you are not the only dude that’s ever flown a plane. I get it. We checked. Double-checked, and then triple-checked. We’re good. If God decides to send a bolt of lightning that takes out an engine or blows me up, then so be it. I’m ready.”

I was done listening to his comments. I climbed in, strapped down, and started to run through the usual checklist. I glanced over and saw him standing there with his stupid clipboard in hand. His jaw was clenched and I wondered if he was going to cancel the flight and ground me. But I was pretty sure he didn’t have that much power. Chief did. Chief hired me and he was the only one I needed to impress. I belonged in the cockpit.