Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
I knew Poke well enough to hear the amusement in his voice. “Ten-four, then. Try not to tip her into the drink like you did last week. Remember how cold that fucking water is.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “Asshole,” I muttered instead. “Don’t forget about the soup. Save some for the greenhorn, too, in case he gets wet.” I brought the plane down to skim just above the surface.
Jonah turned narrowed eyes on me and opened his mouth to say something. I took that opportunity to hit the water. Hard.
Predictably, Jonah grabbed the yoke with a yelp and then screamed even louder when he realized what he’d done. I turned my own yoke to make him think he’d turned the plane toward shore.
He took his hands off the yoke like it had burned him, and I finally let go of the laugh I’d been holding. “Calm down. I got this,” I assured him. “They make you practice a couple times before they let you do it on your own. I got real good at it after the accident last week.”
The sun was shining on the water, and I recognized Naita’s johnboat floating in the distance and knew she was most likely reading a romance novel while soaking in the summer sun during her lunch break.
I motored over to the dock, where Poke waited to help Jonah climb out.
“Eight out of ten,” Poke called with a grin. “You’re getting the hang out of landing this thing!”
I shot him a bird and shut down the De Havilland before patting the dash and giving Edwina a silent thanks for another safe ride. I’d taken off and landed her thousands of times, and as long as my brother Ryan was around to keep her happy with regular maintenance, I hoped to keep her around for thousands more.
After doing my postflight checks, I reached into the cargo hatch and yanked out the giant rolling suitcase and computer backpack Jonah had brought. Once I set them on the dock, I reached out to shake his hand.
“Thanks for flying Knockwood Aviation,” I said. “Have a great visit.”
I tried to ignore the feel of his warm hand in mine. His grip was firm, but his skin was silky smooth, unlike my own. I quickly dropped his hand and moved back to the plane to close her up.
“Would you mind directing me to the Knockwood Inn? I have reservations there. The email said it’s within walking distance of the… uh…” He looked around at the rough wooden dock. “Airport.”
“Yeah, it’s above the bar,” I said, pointing at the giant, sprawling building that housed all of my family’s various enterprises. “When you get inside, find Maggie or Boston. They’ll fix you up.”
I turned back to focus on the plane and purposefully didn’t watch him leave. I already knew I’d make a fool of myself staring at his ass, and Poke probably already had my number.
Sure enough, when I finally made my way into the building, Poke shot me an exaggerated wink. “Nice work if you can get it,” he said.
I didn’t ask, but Maggie was there to do it for me.
“What do you mean?”
Twin pink hair buns stuck out like mouse ears from her head, and today’s nose ring looked suspiciously like a ladybug had accidentally landed on her nostril.
“Nothing,” I said before Poke could answer.
“You saw the greenhorn,” Poke said with a grin. “Hot as fuck. Totally Pete’s type.”
“Not my type at all,” I corrected, reaching past him for the steaming bowl of soup on the bar top. “He’s all clean and shit.”
“He’s definitely pretty,” Maggie said, raising a carefully landscaped brow at me. “What’s his deal?”
Boston’s voice floated up from behind the bar. “Works for a company called Heart2Heart in Miami. That gay dating site. He’s here writing an article about us.”
I stepped on the bar rail and leaned over to see Boston on his side working under the bar sink. Old tools were spread out around his head, and his jeans and T-shirt had wet splotches on them. “How do you know all that?”
He popped his head out and grinned at me. “I flirted with the travel dude on the phone. He had a sexy voice. Gave me the scoop on your passenger.”
I sat back down on a stool and ate a bite of soup. “He’s not writing about us. He’s writing about…” I tried to remember how he’d put it. “Things he’s never done before.”
Boston stood up and wiped his face with a faded blue bandana. A streak of grease remained smeared across one cheek. “Like I said. He’s here to write about us.”
Maggie didn’t even try to hide her laugh while Poke reached out to fist-bump my brother for his stupid joke. I ignored all of them and ate my lunch as quickly as I could.