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“I could be.” He let his gaze drift down. “If the women in Trouble look like you and the one over there, I’d like a brochure. Sign me up.”

The “one” he’d indicated was now glued to Draegan’s side. Draegan kept a possessive hand on Serena’s hip which should’ve been a telling sign.

Uncomfortable, Ellie locked eyes with Allister, willing him to let her handle this guy in a mature manner. Unfortunately the look was enough to more or less summon him.

In less than ten seconds, he and Bradley were right next to her. She should’ve blown a whistle. The results would’ve been the same.

“Problems here, Ellie?” Allister asked.

“No,” she replied, turning to the man. “I was just telling Mr.—”

“Jones,” the fellow quickly said, extending his hand to Allister. “Seth Jones.”

“A little about Trouble,” Ellie muttered, finishing what she’d meant to say but realizing Allister and Bradley weren’t paying her any mind.

“Jones, huh?” Allister narrowed his eyes on Seth’s hand. “Common names are easy to snatch around these parts. Aren’t they Mr. Jones?” Allister clasped his hand and tugged him forward, though Ellie was pretty certain the pull wasn’t as easy as Allister might have originally thought. He slapped Jones on the back and whispered something in his ear before releasing him. A tight grin washed across his face. “Have a safe flight, Mr. Jones.”

Seth lifted his brows and grinned at Ellie once more. “I hope we all do. I’m flying Southern, too. Seat

16-A, as a matter of fact.”

With a cocksure strut, Seth ambled away. About that time, the first boarding call announcement resounded. “Attention please. We’re now boarding Southern States flight 1592 at gate B. Again, we’re boarding flight 1592 at gate B.”

The small airport became a congested mess. Travelers met up with their parties and hurried to grab last minute items from the snack bar or newsstand. Random chitchat filled the upper level of the airport. Most everyone there hurried to the first security checkpoint. Allister put his arm around Ellie’s waist and guided her to the front of the line.

“Do you mind telling me what you said to him?”

“Actually I do, sweetie.”

Sweetie? Allister called her pet names all the time but “sweetie” wasn’t typically one of them unless he was pissed.

“Two can play this game,” she grated out, daring him to ask her questions.

Allister whispered at her ear, “I’m not worried about that asshole, Ellie. We both know who’ll be fucking you within the hour.”

She froze, angrier then than she had been the minute before. “You’re pissing me off, Allister.” Preparing for the airport checkpoint, she removed her shoes and tossed them in a bin. While juggling her personal items, she lost her grip on her ticket. Allister grabbed it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She didn’t need to ask.

“Trying to make you mad as hell, I reckon,” Allister drawled, stuffing the ticket in his shirt pocket.

Harley McCall jumped line about that same time. He leaned over big brother’s shoulder and said, “Ten bucks says the dude who was flirting with Ellie is seated in 16-A and she’s right next to him.”

Allister flipped over the ticket and snarled. “Son of a bitch.” He glanced up then and if looks could kill, Mr. Seth Jones likely understood what it felt like to have a few rounds in his back.

“Calm down, Allister,” Harley said, tossing his belongings in a plastic tub and handing them off to airport personnel. “It’s a short flight.”

Allister ignored Harley and motioned for Ryan and Derek now breaking line, too. Of course the only folks behind them were those from Trouble. Everyone else had the good sense to move through the other checkpoint.

“Either of you care to weigh in on the matter?” Allister asked, his gaze jumping between men.

“I saw him at the counter.” Ryan gave Ellie a heated look. “Why so glum, dear?”

“Don’t patronize me, Ryan,” Ellie snapped, walking through the full body scan. Thank goodness she hadn’t thrown a signal. She was in no mood to be detained.

Waiting on her personal belongings to clear the security check, she observed her other men. Allister provided information, acting as if they needed to run a strategic interference plan. Ryan and Derek didn’t look too happy about the seating assignment.

Derek kicked off his boots, removed his wallet, and tossed his personal affects in one of the containers. “I heard him ask for that seat.” He wasted no time in giving Allister full details. “He was adamant about switching. Apparently his original seat assignment placed him next to an emergency exit so they didn’t mind moving him.”

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