Page 57 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

Eject. Eject.

I looked around in search of an escape route. But whatever escape plan I had in mind incinerated the moment she looked at me and smiled.

A groan escaped me.

Pickle heard and laughed. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the day Herc fell for someone.”

“Shut up. You still haven’t.”

We both watched as Janna walked into the hangar and dropped off the cookies. She stopped at a cooler, grabbed her own Coors, then made her way to where I was standing and gaping like a fucking idiot.

“Hey, Dalton,” she said, like she didn’t just detonate my brain.

“Hey, Princess,” I replied. Voice steady. Cool. Collected. I could not let her know she was getting under my skin.

I didn’t catch feelings.

If I said it enough, it had to be true. Manifesting that shit.

“This is a good turnout,” she said, looking around. “I brought cookies.”

I already knew. “Chocolate chip?”

“Of course.” She smiled. “And snickerdoodles.”

People were not waiting to eat lunch before digging into the desserts. I noticed a couple of guys walk by with her cookies and they were raving about them.

“Guess everyone likes your baking,” Pickle said. “I’m going to get some before they’re gone.”

And then it was just me and her. I took a long drink of my beer, trying to buy myself some time to think of something to say that wouldn’t reveal how off kilter she made me feel. Small talk wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially when the woman standing next to me was making my brain short-circuit just by existing.

And the smell of her. Citrus. And sweet. She tasted as good as she smelled. I realized I licked my lips at the memory of being between her legs. Fucking Gilbert. Ten minutes. Hell, five minutes and I would have been buried inside her. I didn’t know if we’d get the chance again. And if we did, I wasn’t sure I should take it. If I was this fucked up after a few kisses and a blowjob, I wasn’t sure I could handle sex. She’d have me wrapped around her finger with me panting after her like a damn dog.

“We do this every year,” I said. “The barbecue.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her beer. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s Chief’s thing. He started it about ten years ago when he took over the operation. Said we needed to bond as a team before we spent the next few months trying not to kill each other.”

“Smart man.” She glanced around at the crowd, then back at me. “Does it work?”

I shrugged. “Most of the time. Hard to stay pissed at someone when you’ve eaten their food and have seen them drunk and singing karaoke.”

She laughed, and the sound hit me right in the soul. “Please tell me you have video from years past.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who does the drunk karaoke? Now I really have to find video.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.” She bumped my shoulder with hers, and even that small contact sent heat shooting through me. “I’ll have to make sure I stick around long enough to witness that.”

“Let’s eat!” Chief’s voice echoed across the tarmac.

The line formed quickly, and I found myself walking beside Janna toward the food tables. The smell of Chief’s brisket got stronger as we approached, and my stomach growled in response. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, knowing I was going to consume enough food to last me a week.

“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing for her to go ahead of me.