Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
RILEY
I give April a big hug. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you so much.” She beams from ear-to-ear, already boasting that bride-to-be glow.
Nat and Chance exchange manly chin-up gestures while I chat with April about the vintage cars that are in her garage.
May, April’s energetic, college-aged sister, drags April and Chance away to greet other guests and Nat and I are left standing alone.
We make eye contact.
His lips curl up in a devastatingly handsome smile.
My heart trips over itself.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah.” His eyes slide over my face. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
Shyness steals over me, and I lower my gaze in response.
Put me in front of a plane’s turbine engine or a car’s wiring system and I have zero fear or nerves. But let Nathan Campbell pin me with those hypnotizing green eyes and tell me I’m beautiful and I have no idea what to do with myself.
Nat briefly places his fingers on my waist and bends lower to speak in my ear. “Want something to drink?”
I shake my head. It hasn’t been that long since the ‘heavy-on-the-tipsy’ Tipsy Tuna incident. I’m not eager for round two.
Nat accepts my answer with a smile and leaves me to my thoughts, bobbing his head to the music.
Come on, Riley. Stop overthinking this. It’s Nat!
I tug on his shirt sleeve to get his attention.
Nat looks at me immediately, his eyes rapt on my face as if he’s ready to do whatever I ask.
“I think all the other guests have checked out the garage already. There shouldn’t be a crowd now.” I speak a bit louder since the music, laughter and buzz of conversation around us is so strong.
Nat points to himself and then the door.
I nod.
My heart kicks up a notch as if I’ve jolted it with electricity when his fingers enclose around mine. Confidently, he leads me through the crowd and out the door.
Nat has been by my side all night and I’ve been struggling not to let my over-eager fangirl escape. Now, I can stare at him all googly-eyed from behind to my heart’s content.
From the front, Nat is model-level stunning.
From the back, he’s even more drool-worthy.
Dark hair. A strong neck. Broad shoulders. Arms so chiseled, if I covered him in white paint and he stood very still, he’d be mistaken for an awe-inspiring sculpture.
My gaze trails lower to Nat’s legs.
Now that I think about it, Nat hasn’t worn shorts since I’ve run into him in Lucky Falls.
“They said the garage is down this trail.” I point into a little grove between the house. The garage is in the distance, made of glass and concrete and beautifully reflecting the moonlight.
“Let’s take our time,” Nat says, strolling at a slow pace.
“Sounds good to me.”
The path is well-lit with solar lights implanted in the ground to illuminate our way.
“Can you believe Chance McLanely is engaged and we got to be there?” I say, starting the conversation.
“I’m really happy for them. It’s obvious how much they love each other.”
“Chance gave up playing in the league for April. I’d say that’s about as hardcore committed as you can get,” I agree. “And April’s the sweetest.”
After the proposal, she and Chance returned to the house and April was shocked to see the room packed with friends and family.
The first person the mechanic ran to was her dad. He seemed uncomfortable when she held his hand and I sensed that the tears that fell down April’s face as she spoke to him was both from the joy of having him alive for this moment and the pain that he can’t recognize her.
It made me miss my dad and make a silent promise to call my parents when I get home.
“Is this something that you want?” Nat asks, slowing his pace as we stroll under the moonlight. “A wedding? A family?”
“Maybe someday,” I admit. “But not right this second. I just switched to auto mechanics and there’s a lot I want to accomplish there. What about you?”
“Things are kind of up in the air when it comes to hockey, but regarding my personal life? I’m at that stage where I’d like to settle down,” Nat says, looking at me in a way that makes my spine tingle.
Is… is he implying that he wants to settle down with me?
“But I’m not in a rush if the timing isn’t right.”
My heart beats my ribs like a rock-and-roll drummer took up residence in my chest.
“Have you thought about what type of wedding or proposal you’d want?” Nat asks, tilting his head.
“Not really. I’d be fine with anything.”
“How romantic, Riles.”
“It’s true.” I laugh. “I think what’s more important than a wedding and a proposal is finding a guy who’s committed enough to give up something he loves for me.”
“Is that your measurement of love? Sacrifice?”
“Among other things.”
“There’s a list?” He arches a brow. “How do I get my hands on it? Asking for a friend.”
I laugh even harder.
Nat lifts a tree branch so I can pass by safely. “Is there anyone in your past who came close to meeting that list?”
You.
But I don’t dare tell him that.
“I think my situation is unique. I’ve had the opportunity of being around many different men for hours at a time and I’ve seen how a lot of those men think. Eighty percent of the time, I was the only woman in the room, and men like to hear themselves talk. So I did a lot of listening.”
Nat bobs his head, and I can tell he’s taking in everything I’m saying.
“I’ve heard men say that women are supposed to cook and clean or they’re not worth anything to them. I’ve heard them say that women should be okay with cheating, as long as he’s discreet about it.”
Nat scrunches his nose in disapproval.
“And even when they’re not that crass about it, they don’t sound happy.
I’ve heard men complain day after day about going home to their wives and about how miserable they are.
About how they prefer planes more and wish they could get married to aircrafts.
I’ve heard them say that the only thing their wives have over planes is that they,” I blush, “can warm a bed.”
“That’s not how every man thinks,” Nat points out. “I know guys like that. They exist. But they’re not the representative of the group.”
“Maybe it’s because of the industry I work in, but I feel like those guys are the majority.
And the scary part is that they would sometimes bring their girlfriends to functions at school and at the hangar.
It was clear those women had no idea how those men truly felt about them or how they see women in general. ”
I lick my lips because I can remember several incidences when a woman would blaze through the school gates, begging one of my classmates to take her back, even after he treated her poorly.
“As an AMT, we learn to investigate every sound in a plane—from the engine to the wings. We don’t ignore the signs because then the plane might take off with a life-threatening issue.
We red-tag anything, and I mean anything.
And once a component of a plane is red-tagged, it’s mandatory that the plane is grounded until it’s repaired. ”
“Wow,” Nat says.
“But there’s no protocol for dating and I feel like a lot of us are signing off on planes that have been red-tagged. We’re expected to have a partner, which adds all this pressure to ignore bad behavior…”
My eyes pop open when I realize I’ve been talking too much. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”
“I love when you ramble.”
“You can stop me, you know.”
“Why would I? I agree with you. I’ve just never thought of relating it to planes before.”
I laugh self-consciously. “So you don’t think I’m ‘bitter’?”
“No way.” He frowns. “Someone called you bitter?”
“My mom. She says my standards are too high, which is why I’m still single.”
“High standards only scare people who don’t intend to meet them. You deserve to find exactly what you’re looking for, Riles.”
I hold my breath.
We continue walking in silence until the garage comes into view. The croaking of toads and the flicker of fireflies buzzing gives the trail a magical quality.
“What do you think about me?” Nat asks.
My eyebrows hike. “W-what do you mean?”
“I’d like to submit myself for inspection.”
My heart beats double time.
“I’m not perfect,” Nat says, coming to a stop and facing me, “but when you take me down and inspect me…” moonlight glistens in his eyes, “I’ll be airworthy.”
My throat gets thick to the point that I can’t swallow. Is this what it means to be swept off my feet? I really can’t remember a time I’ve felt so breathless and off-kilter.
“I think I can arrange an inspection,” I whisper.
His eyes light up. “We can start with a physical.”
I laugh and smack his arm when he tries to pull his shirt over his head.
“The inspection has nothing to do with your abs, you show-off.”
“Noted. And since we’re clarifying,” he reaches for my hand, “is this allowed during the inspection?”
I smile as my heart trips over itself. “Definitely allowed.”
“Taking you out to dinner?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Calling you? Texting you? Sending letters via carrier pigeon?”
“You get extra points if you do the last one,” I say, bumping my shoulder into his.
Nat’s gaze slips to my lips. “Kissing? On the table or off?”
A fire ignites under my skin. “I’d need a sample before I make any decisions.”
“I can totally provide a sample… for research purposes,” he says, leaning in.
Before his lips can meet mine, a twig snaps and muffled voices filter through the night.
“Bell, how many times are you going to see the garage?” a man says in a patient, adoring tone.
“If Chance would agree, I’d toss a blow-up bed in there and move in.”
Nat backs off and winks as if to say ‘later’, and my heart thumps erratically at the promise.