Chapter Twenty
E xpecting Naomi to stay in the house with Boone was asking a lot. Selah definitely owed her. She’d been worried her sister’s general annoyance with Boone would have been enough to accept Dex’s invitation to join them. She was lucky Naomi could read facial expressions, especially the pointed one that said, Don’t you dare come with us .
Selah burst out of her mother’s front door, the September evening still warm from the day. She grabbed Dex’s arm, practically dragging him, as she power walked from the porch, past the edge of the house, and to the barn like a woman on a mission. It wasn’t the casual after-dinner stroll she’d promised him.
As soon as they rounded the corner on the far side of the barn, away from any curious eyes who may be peering through the kitchen window over the sink, Selah pulled him to her. Perhaps a warning would have been in order because he did a small stumble, putting his hand on the barn wall to steady himself. He didn’t fight her, though, as she clasped his neck and she brought her desperate lips to claim his.
After their sudden and explosive coming together the previous week, she wondered if some of the frenzied hunger would have subsided. She at least hoped she’d be able to manage all of this better and not attack the man as soon as they had a moment alone. Her current actions proved otherwise as her desire continued to be out of control, possibly worse than before.
She opened her mouth to him, sliding her tongue with his. Dex returned her actions with his own fervor, pushing her against the barn wall. One of his hands went to her thigh, encouraging her leg to drape over his hip so he could press himself into her. He moved his hand to her neck, tilting her jawline to a better position. Their kissing started heavy, but soon morphed into something less messy and more coordinated and satisfying. A sexy groan rumbled in his throat.
When he broke their kiss by resting his face on her neck, pressing his lips there, he said, “Looks like your sister provides some good intel. I guess you do like me. God, you always smell so good.”
She laughed, feeling calmer since she was able to freely touch and kiss him, without having to keep her hands to herself because her whole family was around. What she signed up for in a rebound relationship was more hot make-out sessions and a lot less normal-ish family dinners in her childhood home. Selah was clearly doing it wrong. Although she had to admit she liked having him at the table with her. He fit in well with her family. It had felt uncomplicated and natural, even though their situation was tricky.
Regardless, she was happy they got to the hot make-out part eventually. Some of the wild frenzy steadied, which was probably a good thing. Selah didn’t want to get caught having sex next to her family’s barn. Kissing him would have to do. She trailed a hand along his chest, gripping the button placket of his shirt, while also brushing through the shorts hairs on the nape of his neck. He returned to kissing her lips and it was heart-meltingly lovely, his hands stroking down the sides of her torso before landing on her hips.
“Did you miss me this week?” She shouldn’t have asked. It made her sound like a desperate girlfriend when she didn’t consider herself either one of these. Even when she’d been a girlfriend, at various points in her life, she’d never been this pitiful.
“Mm-hmm.” He kissed her slowly. “I hope I get to go home tonight with both your mom’s leftovers and you.”
“You’re not hoping very well. You just put me second to leftovers.”
He stopped, his eyes growing wide at possibly getting caught. “I don’t even care about the leftovers. Let’s leave right now. Come home with me.”
She slipped from his arms, walking away because maybe things were getting a little out of hand. “Nope, sorry. I can’t.”
“Ah, shit. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re much better than leftovers.” He sounded genuinely worried she was offended. She wanted to laugh until she turned her head and saw his expression.
“Dex, seriously? I’m just giving you a hard time. Why would I get mad over something so ridiculous? It’s okay for you to get excited about leftovers.”
“So you’ll come home with me tonight?”
“Um, no, that’s still a negative, but it has nothing to do with you liking leftovers more than me. I mean, it’s my mom’s cooking. Who’s not going to feel that way?” She gave him a flirty look before pushing the barn’s side door and slipping inside. The barn’s interior was dark, drafty, and musty with old hay and the remnant scent of livestock that used to occupy the space. It hadn’t been used for its real purpose for a while. Instead, there was old farm equipment, tools, but, most importantly, it housed the gondola of the hot-air balloon and the large wheeled cart holding the stored envelope. She approached the basket, sliding her hands along the brown fabric bumper wrapped along the top edge of the gondola’s wall, wishing she could go up with Dex at this moment. Then she’d have the two things she liked best with her at the same time.
Selah wasn’t sure when he’d become one of her favorites, only that he had. They hadn’t even known each other for long. This time last year, her outlook on life had been quite different, understandably. Things had been tough and darker for her and her family. It was strange to think about a period of time when she hadn’t known Dex. He’d probably been with his ex then, had been happy and kissing Ava. If Selah had any guts, she would have asked him if he missed his ex-girlfriend, but she didn’t want an honest answer, one she might not like.
He’d entered the barn, coming to stand behind her. “Selah.” Her name came out in a rough voice as he slid a hand around her hip to her stomach, pressing his face to the back of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. She didn’t stop herself from leaning against him. “Do you want me to beg or something?”
Imagining him begging was doing all kinds of things to her, mostly setting her insides on fire. As much as it would please her, it wouldn’t be fair to him. “I really want to go home with you, but I can’t. I have to get up early tomorrow—”
“That’s okay. I’ll get up early with you.”
She smiled at his willingness. “And I can’t stay up late. I have to get a decent amount of sleep since I have an early tour. I’m trying to be rational, as it’s a safety thing, and I have a responsibility to my passengers and to my family. No one wants a pilot working on three hours of sleep. And if I go home with you, it’s going to be really hard to just sleep and not do a bunch of other things.”
“Ah,” he replied. “I get it. But, also, I have to tell you that a responsible, safety-first woman is a real turn-on for me so...” Dex pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of her neck, his arm pulling tighter on her waist.
This she could allow, this she could get into. She gripped one of the fabric-covered steel support struts extending from the top of the gondola, and he closed one of his large hands over hers. His other hand, the one on her waist, drifted to a breast, fondling it until she whimpered against him.
“I don’t know how you can calm me and get me worked up at the same time,” he said.
“Maybe it’s a pilot thing,” she suggested between moans.
“I think it might just be a ‘you’ thing. You do this to me.”
As much as her brain didn’t want to fall into a trap and believe him, she had to admit he was making a good argument. She tried to enjoy this, even while knowing it wasn’t going to go nearly as far as she would like.
“Tell me about your tattoo,” he said, stroking one of his long fingers on the inside of her wrist.
She stiffened, like she was being tossed from a hot bath into a frozen lake.
His grip on her softened as he dropped his head against hers. “It’s something important.”
Selah fought the urge to push him off and tell him good night. Instead, she said, “No, not really. It’s just a little silly.”
“But you don’t want to tell me.”
Selah took the gondola footholds, climbing inside before turning to face him. If she was going to talk to him, she’d rather do it with some distance and a wicker wall between them. She took the farthest side she could, thankful he didn’t move to join her. Dex leaned against the top of the basket and waited patiently. She kind of hated him at that moment—for being that way. He made her want to confide when she preferred not taking anything out of her carefully protected shell.
Crossing her arms and steeling herself, she leaned against her side of the gondola. “You ever watch Star Trek ?”
“I know I come off as a nerd, but I’m not into every fandom out there.”
Huffing a laugh eased some of the tension from her body. “My dad loved that stuff. We’d watched the original series, movies, all the new series, but his favorite was TNG. I think I’ve seen every episode at least five times. It was kind of my dad’s and my thing, like flying.”
“And Galaxy Quest ?” he guessed.
She bit her lip, nodding and taking a moment to blink away any tears.
“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” He didn’t wait for a response before climbing into the gondola.
She sniffled. “I’m not a captain, just a pilot. Plus, I think that’s more of an ocean ship thing than aviation.”
“Except I heard that hot-air balloons are the ships of the sky.”
Sucking in a breath at his unexpected words, it sent a prick right into the center of her chest. “Where did you hear that from? That’s my dad’s thing to say.” It came out accusatory, as if Dex had somehow stolen something from Robert. He had no ownership to say things like that.
He didn’t flinch at her tone, but his next words were low and calm. “Your mom told me.”
“Oh.” She felt herself detaching, becoming muted.
Dex took her arm, placing it against his chest, gently stroking over the same tattoo in question with his other hand. Was this how he was when he’d first found Harper as a poor injured crow? His touch felt as if it was capable enough to hold the most fragile of things, like hollow bones. There was nothing more fragile than her at this moment. One rebel tear managed to break free from the others as she watched his finger smooth over her skin where the tattoo was.
“He wanted to be a commercial pilot so badly, but, you know, life kept throwing him a lot of curveballs. When he started this business, he was so excited and I used to...” Selah swallowed a painful lump, her voice cracking into pieces. “I... used to call him Captain Picard.. which everyone knows is the best captain in all the Star Treks . My dad was my captain. When I didn’t have school or wasn’t working, I was right here helping him, because I was going to be a pilot too. He’d call me Number One because I’d like to pretend I was his first officer, like Commander Riker.”
She roughly dashed a tear away from her cheek. “When I registered for flight school, I got this tattoo. It’s the flag rank of Riker, the little, um, insignias, or whatever they call it on their collar. Riker has three of them. I wanted to show my dad that no matter how high I fly, I’d always be his Number One.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” he said, drawing her to him, her tears soaking into the fibers of his shirt as he ran his hand soothingly from her head down her spine. “I think your dad would be very happy you’re the captain of his balloon.”
She took a steadying breath. “I’m not, though. I’m not a captain, at least not yet.” Selah pulled from him, raising her gaze to his. “They don’t just give it to you. You have to earn it, work your way up. So that’s what I’m going to do. That’s why I can’t stay here. I need to get my commercial piloting training, because the license I have is only for small planes and I need to go bigger. Then get on the crew as a copilot or first officer, and then, you know, after some time, maybe I’ll eventually work my way up to captain.”
“Wait, so that’s what your dad did?”
“Well, no, but that’s different because he couldn’t. I can.” It pained her to put it that way, because Robert had worked hard to get what he had. He was the captain of his operation. He deserved his nickname. Selah was happy to be under him, to learn from him, to do what was necessary to keep his dream afloat. But she didn’t have a Number One by her side. She had two sisters, a mother, and Boone, and one of those sisters clearly resented and didn’t respect her. Naomi and Boone helped, but they weren’t invested like she and her father had been. Flying didn’t take up their whole soul. Maybe she was a captain, but it was to herself alone, and that might as well be nothing.
“Yeah, I get your dad’s dreams. But what are yours?”
She grew slightly aggravated. Dex hadn’t been listening. “I just told you I’m going to go into commercial piloting.”
“Simply to become a captain for your dad?”
“No,” she said, even if part of it was true. But he didn’t understand. “Not just for my dad. I love flying and I don’t care what kind of aircraft it is, as long as I get to go up. I don’t care if it’s a damn weather balloon and, yes, I get that weather balloons don’t have anyone inside them, piloting. I know how it works. I’m an aviator, for God’s sake. I just need to find someone else to take me under their wing, another captain to make me better. I can’t do this alone.”
“Selah.”
“What?” Her impatience found its end as she considered kicking the man out of her gondola and never seeing him again. She didn’t need this level of grief from anyone, let alone from him.
“Honey, you’re the one who’s doing all the piloting here. You’re running the show. You’re a captain.”
“I’m tipping baskets over is what I’m doing.”
“You do that a lot?”
“Well, no, that was the only time it’s ever happened to me.”
He crowded her again, pressing kisses to her temple along her cheekbone. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”
“And what if everyone already knows because of my sister?”
His kisses moved from the shell of her ear to the curve of her neck. “I have a feeling you’re going to be okay, Captain. You’re still an excellent pilot.”
She clucked her tongue, even while parts of her were softening with his touches. “Okay, but I’m still not a captain.”
“Hmm. I think”—he skimmed his hands over the skin along the bottom of her shirt—“that you just haven’t allowed yourself to get used to the title yet, Captain.”
“Oh, is that how it works? Why don’t I also just get used to people calling me Professor Moreno, and then I can—”
“Permission to go down on you, Captain.”
She nearly choked on the saliva in her own mouth. “What?” Selah was certain she’d misheard the man until his fingers started undoing the button and zipper of her pants.
“Is it still the Mile High Club if we’re in a basket and it’s on the ground, Captain?”
She looked toward the barn door, checking to make sure it was shut, worried a member of her family would pop in any minute. “Okay, look, I don’t think this is a good idea—”
“There you go, Captain, being all responsible again. You have no idea how much of a turn-on that is for me.” He sank to his knees before her.
“Dex.”
“Captain.”
“Stop calling me that!”
He slid her pants and underwear down her legs as much as they would go without taking them off, since her shoes remained on. “I think the only one that can officially give orders in this basket would be the captain, so are you conceding that it’s you?”
“No. I don’t need to concede anything.” She attempted to put some toughness in her voice, but it was difficult to pull off when he was face-to-face with the lower half of her naked body, using his strong thumbs to widen her stance.
When he pressed kisses to her thighs, all she could do was raise her face to the heavens, begging for some kind of strength. “Oh God.”
Selah gasped at the first stroke of his tongue, nearly melting right there.
“Captain,” he said in a low voice before stroking her again.
“Yes,” the word released as half sigh, half moan.
His gaze rose to hers, those hazel eyes glittering with pleasure. “That’s my girl.” She really did feel like she was his. She wanted to be taken by him, to be something more than temporary, to be able to float up as high as she wanted, but know he was there as an anchor to keep her steady.
He returned to his ministrations, his tongue continuing to stroke through her. Selah’s head dropped backwards as her heartbeat built upon itself. Her fingers dug into the fabric-wrapped struts of the gondola. Every time he murmured the word Captain , she panted a Yes because she couldn’t refuse him. It led to more effort on his part. It turned out that concession, in this case, was not a depressing sense of loss, but a blissful explosion of ecstasy. She hadn’t realized this was a possibility.
Selah’s body wound itself tighter, her pants and moans increasing between beats of his name. When he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his mouth and tongue hard and fast against her, her release burst from her with a cry. He held her there against him, giving her his strength to remain standing as she allowed herself to bask in this.
Shortly after, Dex got up, and redressed her, which was the help she desperately needed. She was so boneless, if she bent over, she’d fall to the floor in an undignified heap. All she could manage was to cling to him, one of her fists gripping his shirt.
Selah needed some time before heading into her mother’s home again. Who knew what her facial expression was at this moment? Probably something close to drunk love. She definitely wasn’t either one of those things. She hadn’t had any of the wine Dex had brought because she didn’t like drinking, even a small amount, the night before a flight. Selah also refused to fall in love with a guy over sex. She couldn’t allow herself to be this pathetic, not when she was destined to be a city girl and he’d always be a state park guy. She wasn’t in love. He wasn’t in love. It was sex. Nothing more.
After he finished fastening her pants, he stood beside her, his focus lazily dragging across her face, his expression similarly close to that of adoration. He sweetly brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Hey, Captain,” he said in a soft tone.
“Hey.” She continued gripping his shirt to remain steady, a giggle escaping her lips. She was grinning too hard for it to be normal. Dex may be getting the mistaken impression she actually was drunk love.
He kissed her temple gently before saying, “Good. I don’t want you to ever forget.”
Selah wasn’t sure how she could be in this gondola again and remember anything else.