Page 33 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

“Gonna get in or is this going to be a solo flight?” I snapped.

“If you fucking kill me, I’m going to be pissed.”

I smiled and ignored him. He gave his clipboard to one of the mechanics. I waited to see if he was going to get his ass in the plane. When he didn’t, I glanced over and spotted him squatting down, and dammit, I swore he was talking to a cat.

I couldn’t help but stare. Dalton, the man who’d been nothing but a grumpy, condescending jerk since the moment I met him, was crouched down next to the ugliest cat I’d ever seen. It was scrawny, with patchy fur and one ear that looked like it had been chewed off in a fight. It looked like it had been through hell and back, and yet Dalton was talking to it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, his voice soft and low, completely unlike the gruff tone he used with me. “You hungry? I’ve got something for you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of cat food. The cat meowed at him and rubbed against his leg. Dalton walked over and dumped the food directly onto the floor. I was not the only person watching the scene. A couple of the other pilots and mechanics were staring at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

He stood to his full height, shot a dirty look at the guys watching, and then walked back to the plane. He climbed in and took the seat behind me. We put on our headsets and closed the canopy. I felt a little thrill of excitement race through my veins.

Laser’s voice crackled through my headset a second later. “Spotter One, you’re cleared to taxi.”

It was good to hear her voice. I eased us out of the hangar and down the tarmac, my hands steady on the controls. The hum of the propellers could be felt more than heard.

“Runway’s yours,” Laser said. “Take her up.”

I grinned and shoved the throttle forward. We accelerated down the runway. The tires hummed against the pavement. At eighty knots, I gave a gentle pull on the yoke.

God, that moment never got old. The feeling of the ground falling away as you took flight was amazing. I had done it so many times and yet it never lost that thrill. Dalton stayed quiet behind me, but I bet he was dying to critique me. I knew I had done nothing wrong. Not yet at least.

I climbed to the assigned altitude, leveling us off and cutting through the sky. The control tower gave us a heading and I followed, banking us gently to the right. I glanced at my control panel and made sure everything was as it should be.

Dalton finally spoke. “Not bad.”

That was it. Just two words.

But my chest expanded anyway.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep it casual.

I knew the flight was just to see if I could actually fly a plane, but I couldn’t help but feel excited for when it was time to do the real work. And yes, I still wanted to impress the asshole sitting behind me. I could fucking fly, and by the time I put his ass back on the ground, he was going to know it.