Chapter Four #2
Callie inhaled sharply when an image of Ollie popped into her head.
That was crazy! Okay, so dinner last night had gone better than their afternoon had, but when he'd walked her to Xander's truck after they got back to his apartment, the only kiss there'd been was the same peck on the cheek that he — and Reaves — had given her when she arrived.
She must have taken too long to answer — Elena chuckled. "It's none of my business, but I have my hopes for you." She checked the clock on the wall. "And speaking of that, do you want me to walk down to the hangar with you? Your ride will be here soon."
"That's okay, thanks." Callie picked her duffel up off the floor. "I'd better get going. But I'll be in touch. I'll figure out how to get the mugs to you and Walt when they're ready."
"You could come back to see us and bring them with you."
Callie chuckled. "Maybe I will."
~ ~ ~
Ollie brought the Cirrus in for a perfect landing at the Jacobs estate, and as he touched down, it occurred to him that other than bringing Callie last week, he'd never landed his Cirrus here before.
There was no reason for him to. He and Reaves had flown the jet in a handful of times over the years — and more than he cared to remember over the last week as they ferried wedding guests in from San Francisco and then back out again.
When he reached the end of the runway, he turned the plane around and taxied back toward the hangar. He didn't think he'd ever been here without Reaves, either.
He glanced over at his phone sitting in the right seat.
He'd tossed it there after texting with Reaves before he took off.
Reaves had been checking in to see how he was doing this morning.
All Ollie had been able to say was that he felt like crap.
He'd enjoyed his evening over here with Callie, but he would have enjoyed it a lot more if he'd been honest with her from the beginning.
He was an idiot, and he needed to set things straight with her.
His heart started to hammer when he spotted her standing by the hangar waiting for him.
She was dressed the same way she'd been when he picked her up from Fort Bragg last week.
Same cargo pants, same denim jacket, same duffel slung over her shoulder, and her hair tied in the same messy braid.
None of it added up to the kind of woman he was normally attracted to, but that didn't make any difference.
He had to face the fact that he found Callie more attractive than any woman he'd known before.
And here he was, royally screwing it up.
He grinned when she raised her hand in a little wave as he passed. It felt good to him, knowing that she was pleased to see him despite the fact that he was arriving in his own plane. Not because of it.
There'd been too many girls — and people in general — in his life who were only interested in him because of the money.
Or no, maybe not just the money, but the money and the name put together meant that he was never sure if people were genuinely interested in him, the person.
Ollie, rather than Oliver Stratton, son of the great Miles Stratton.
He waved back at Callie, knowing damn well that he had nothing to worry about with her in that respect. His smile faded. His worries with her were for the opposite reasons. Not that she'd want him for his money — that she would reject him for it.
That same heavy feeling settled in his chest as he brought the plane to a stop. She wouldn't get the chance to reject him over it until he was honest with her. And he still hadn't figured out how, or even when, he was going to do that.
She stood way back, watching him while he cut the engine and removed his headset.
When he climbed out, she gave him another little wave and called, "Sorry, I didn't know if I was supposed to come running to get in or how this works.
All I could think of was helicopters, where I think you're supposed to stand back until the blades stop going around. "
"It's all good," he told her. "And for future reference, you did the right thing. Always wait until the engine's stopped and the blades have finished turning." He made a little circle above his head with his finger as he said, "Whether they're up above or on the nose."
He realized as he finished that he'd moved his finger to circle in front of his own nose as he said it. The way she laughed reassured him that he hadn't made a fool of himself.
"Good to know," she said as she hitched the strap of her duffel higher on her shoulder.
"Here, let me take that." He held his hand out, and for a moment she tightened her grip on the strap as if she wasn't going to hand it over. But then she gave him a rueful smile and said, "Sorry, yeah, you need to put it somewhere, don't you?"
"Only on the back seat, but I wouldn't make you carry it yourself anyway."
"No, right, I forgot that. Thanks," she said as she handed it over.
His hand brushed hers as he took it from her, and her gaze flew up to meet his.
It made him hope that she felt it too. Whatever it was, he couldn't name it — only that it felt like a zap of.
.. something. Recognition, connection — he didn't know what, but he knew it was the exact same thing that had happened when he picked her up in Fort Bragg.
She dropped her gaze again quickly, and he loaded first her bag and then her.
Once they were both seated with seatbelts on, he turned to her with a smile. "I didn't even think to ask — did you enjoy the flight last time?"
Some of the tension left his shoulders when she nodded eagerly.
"Sorry, I should have said. Yeah, thanks, I absolutely loved it.
I mean, this is just so cool to me. I think I told you that I flew in the jet with Becca and Jacob at Christmas.
They were going to see Becca's folks, and I hitched a ride to go and see mine.
That was awesome, don't get me wrong, and at the time I thought it was a tiny plane. "
She looked around as though worried that someone might overhear her.
"I don't mean tiny like not good. I only mean compared to, you know, the big commercial planes.
" She let out a short laugh. "And now I'm about to open my mouth just so I can put my other foot in it.
I was going to say that Jacob's plane seemed tiny, but this is even smaller. "
Ollie couldn't help laughing, but she held her hand up.
"I don't mean that as criticism, even if it sounds that way.
What I'm trying to say is that this is the coolest of them all.
It's like you're really flying." She frowned.
"That sounds stupid, doesn't it? But you can tell that you're in the sky.
I mean, damn, I'm making this worse by the second, aren't I? "
"No, you're not," he assured her. "I know exactly what you mean.
That's why I have this thing. It's great to fly the jet with Reaves, and I love that I get to do that for a career, but there's something different about this.
" He patted the control stick. "Something about just being free in the sky.
Don't get me wrong, I love Reaves to death, I love flying with him, but there's a freedom about just being able to hop into this thing by myself and, like you say, feel like I'm in the sky — not inside a machine in the sky. "
She was watching him with a strange look on her face, and he realized that he was rambling. He shrugged. "Sorry, I shouldn't rattle on about it. And in my defense, it sounded like you understand and enjoy it too."
"Oh, I do," she said. "That's not what puzzled me."
As soon as she said it, he understood — he'd given away that he owned the Cirrus.
~ ~ ~
Callie stared at him, not sure what to say, not sure what to think. He was so glad he had this thing? That's what he'd said. Like... like it was his own plane.
"What's wrong?" he asked after a few moments of awkward silence.
"This..." She looked around the interior of the plane. She had no idea how much it would cost. She'd just thought that planes and the people who owned them lived in a different reality than she did. "It's yours?"
He nodded, looking as guilty as if he'd just admitted to a horrific crime. "I know I should have told you before now, but Callie..."
The poor guy! She felt awful. "You didn't need to tell me. It doesn't make any difference to me, but I feel bad that..." She made a face. "I hope Jacob at least gave you gas money. I bet it's expensive. I mean, I can give you some..."
She couldn't read his expression as he shook his head. "No! There's no need. It's not a problem. I meant that I should have told you that..."
As it sank in that he had his own plane, a smile spread across her face.
"Yeah, you should! I mean, last night you let me talk about my kiln and the shed out back and all about doing what I love and how much it means to me.
You told me about how much you love flying, but you should have told me that you figured out a way to get your dream too.
This thing must have cost a hell of a lot more than my kiln did, but hey, you're working with a pilot's salary — my savings were mostly from working as a teller at the bank. "
She was relieved to see him smile, even if she didn't know what had caused it. "What?"
"Is that where you used to sit on your ass all day?"
She laughed. "Yeah, and I hated it."
"I can see that. It wouldn't suit you."
"It didn't. But back where I come from, it's considered a good job, and I was lucky to get it."
Her breath caught in her chest when he reached across the distance between them to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "They were lucky to have you."
She had to swallow before she could speak.
"Thanks." She looked around again, feeling a little self-conscious now.
"But we should get going. Not because I'm in a hurry to get home, but because now that I know this thing is yours, I want to watch you fly it again.
It means more, knowing that it means something to you.
" She crossed her eyes at him. "Or does it?
Am I just projecting onto you the way I feel about my wheel and kiln?
For me, it was awesome to be able to use the stuff at the community college when I was learning, but once I got the hang of it, buying my own became the dream. "
She looked around the plane again and then chuckled. "I suppose everything's relative, isn't it? I'm proud of chasing my dream on a bank teller's salary, and I bet you're proud of chasing yours — it's just that a pilot's salary goes a lot further."