35. Jason
35
JASON
“ M ornin’, sexy,” I mumbled as I rolled over and wrapped my arms around Mel’s waist.
I pulled her back so that her ass was tucked up on my lap. I fucking loved how she fit in my arms so perfectly.
Even though her wingspan was half of mine, Mel had a knack for taking up every inch of the bed and stealing all the covers. That friendly battle of ours was fun, especially because I’d win every time.
Mel would hem and haw about me taking half the sheets back to my side. Her petulant little huffs would die down when I brought her over with me and tucked her into my side.
She hummed something unintelligible as she wiggled her hips into my growing hard-on. “Do I have to get up yet?”
I glanced at the clock on the bedside. “Few more minutes. I’m gonna go start the coffee.”
“No,” she moaned, grabbing my arms and pulling them around her. “Lay here with me.”
I skated my hand up the front of her shirt and cupped her breast, giving it a squeeze. “Baby, if I don’t get up now, I’ll make us both late for work.”
“Tease,” she muttered.
I pressed a kiss onto the back of her satin bonnet. It was the orange and red one—her favorite. It looked cute as hell on her, too. The colors reminded me of a sunrise. Warm, brilliant, and full of possibilities.
The rest of her apartment was that way, too. I loved the colors she had splashed around the place. To some people, it was chaotic, but it was perfect for Mel. It was a bright mix of her spunky personality and retro spirit.
I’d been thinking about what Bridget had said when we went over to her place for dinner. About Mel’s apartment lease being up soon.
I didn’t want to steamroll her into any big life decisions, but a one-bedroom apartment wasn’t ideal in the long run. And for me, another twelve months saddled with a lease was a too long.
I peeled myself out of bed and sauntered into the kitchen to punch the coffee maker.
Damn, I had gotten soft.
I used to be an up and at ’em early riser. Maybe the idea that I retired from a career that I had been in for two decades was finally catching up with me.
Maybe it was just feeling comfortable enough around someone to not have to fill my days with dragging my ass to the gym at the crack of dawn.
I laughed under my breath as I started the brew. Maybe I’d even let myself get a dad bod.
Life was fucking good.
My sister was happy—even if her fiancé was a bit of a dick—and I had gotten the girl of my dreams .
I sat down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop. I’d been looking for rings. Something vintage. Something with history. I hadn’t found the right one yet, and I wasn’t going to stop looking until I did.
Truth be told, Mel would probably prefer wearing one of those silicone bands that were all the rage now. I was cool with that if it made her life easier, but my girl deserved to be proposed to with a real ring.
Melissa moseyed out of the bedroom, looking like a cute little badass in her scrubs and fuzzy slippers. She made a pit stop in the bathroom, giving me time to stash my laptop before filling up one of her travel mugs. It read, Never Trust a Nurse Who Doesn’t Say Fuck, in sparkly orange glitter.
If that was the standard, Mel was about as trustworthy as they came.
She opened the bathroom door looking fresh-faced and ready to save some lives. Not that I’d say that to her. Mel before the sun came up was hit or miss. She was either a chipper little chipmunk or would kill you if you looked at her wrong.
I had learned to tread carefully and let her set the pace.
“That for me?” she asked as she pointed to the travel mug.
“Nah, I thought I’d take it with me to the airfield. Pops says the sparkles really bring out my eyes.”
“Smart ass,” she giggled as she plucked the mug off the counter. “You going to the airfield today?”
“Yeah, Pops said there’s something he wanted to talk to me about. So, I’m gonna swing by the bar and pick up breakfast, then head over there. I should be back before you, though.”
Mel popped up on her tiptoes and gave me a peck on the lips. “Stay outta trouble, flyboy.” She grabbed a power bar, then walked to the door and traded her slippers for sneakers.
She wasn’t leaving me with that pathetic excuse for a kiss. I crossed the apartment and trapped her against the back of the door before she got the second shoe on.
I cupped her cheeks, drinking in the taste of the drops of coffee still on her lips. My tongue slid against hers, warm and so fucking soft. She let out a little squeak of a moan, but I didn’t let up. Instead of backing off, I wedged my knee between her thighs, giving her clit a little morning tease.
“I love you, Mel,” I said, backing away, leaving her panting.
She pointed her finger at me as she stomped her other shoe on. “You’re so getting laid tonight, McGrath.”
I smirked, crossing my arms as I watched her try to get her bearings straight. “Drive safe.”
“Love you,” Mel said, blowing me a kiss as she closed the door behind her.
I made quick work of jumping in the shower and rubbing one out before getting dressed and heading for the airfield. Some days I missed the routine of uniforms, but today was not that day.
The heat was sweltering, and I was soaked in sweat by the time I pulled into Jokers. Since it was just Bridget, I didn’t bother taking off my shirt and wringing it out before going inside.
Maybe I should just start stashing a clean one in the glove box or something.
“Morning,” I said as I opened the door to the bar. The door handle spun all the way around when I pushed it down.
Has it always done that? An old-timer with a few strands of gray pulled across his otherwise bald head was in the corner nursing a hangover. He grimaced at the shriek of the hinges. WD-40 dripped from the top of the doorframe.
“Sorry, Bert,” Bridget whispered as she slid him a Bloody Mary. “I thought I greased it up enough to get it quiet.” She turned and gave me a wiggled finger hello. “Hey.”
“Why are we whispering?” I muttered under my breath .
She jerked her head over her shoulder. “Apparently Bert tried to relive his college days last night. I try to keep it nice and quiet when he comes in for hangover food.”
I held up a finger. “One—were colleges even around when dinosaurs roamed the earth? And two—I don’t think Bloody Marys count as food.”
“What can I do for you this morning, broseph?” she said as she turned on the cash register and counted the till. “Or did you just stop by to see your favorite sister?”
“Nah, I told Pops I’d pick up some chow on my way in. He should’ve called it in already.”
Bridget walked over to the kitchen window and stuck her head through. “Hey, did Pops call something in?”
A brown paper bag came hurtling through the window at her. She caught it and peeked inside. “Cheese biscuits. Nice.”
Those were definitely going to give me simultaneous diarrhea and heartburn, but it would be worth it.
“You wanna do something this weekend?” I asked as I pulled out my wallet and stuffed a few bills in her hand. “I dunno. We could drive out to Hatteras and surf.”
She blew out a breath, making the tendrils of hair around her loose braid fly around her face. “Damn, I haven’t surfed in forever.”
“It’s like riding a bike.”
She snorted. “Are you forgetting how good I am at riding a bike? Or do I need to show you my knee?”
When I was eight or nine, I got it into my head that I was going to be one of those badass bikers who went to the X Games. I constructed a rickety ramp and everything.
Bridget was just learning to ride her bike, but insisted I take the training wheels off it so she could try, too. Of course, that led to a trip to the emergency room and twelve stitches in her knee .
Her career as a child stunt woman was short-lived, but she wore that scar like a goddamn badge of honor.
Never rode a bike again, though.
“Alright, fair.” I chuckled, taking my change. “But this weekend?”
“I have to work. But we have girls’ night next week. Are you bringing Mel?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there.” I grabbed the bag of cheese biscuits and gave her a nod. “See ya ’round, Bumble Bee.”
I was almost out the door when she spoke up over the quiet of the bar. “Hey, Jase?”
“Yeah?”
“You think maybe the week after next, you could take me flying?”
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something she wasn’t telling me. Something wasn’t right.
I cracked a smile. “Of course, Bumbs. You pick the day.”
That made the gray storm clouds in her eyes clear. “’Kay.”
“Anywhere in particular you wanna go?”
She shook her head. “No, I just figured… I dunno. You’ve been a pilot all this time, and I’ve never gotten to fly with you. And there’s some stuff I wanna talk to you about. We have a lot to catch up on.”
If I was a betting man, I’d say she was nervous to tell me what that stuff was. So, I decided not to push it. “Just tell me when. Catch you later.”
The door slammed behind me, and the handle fell off. “Don’t worry about it,” she hollered after me. “There’s some duct tape around here. I’ll fix it.”
“Yep,” I said. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
When I got to the airfield, Pops was in his office sitting at a desk that had been there since the Kennedy administration. The computer on top of it wasn’t much better. It had to be from the Reagan era. He shuffled the mouse, and I braced for smoke to start pouring out of the monitor.
“Damn thing ain’t right,” he grumbled, squinting at the screen. “Fuckin’ state government needing me to fill out forms online. I told ’em I could fax ’em, but no—they gotta be all fancy now.”
I dropped the bag of biscuits in front of him, a puddle of grease forming as it plopped on the desk. “Nobody uses fax machines anymore, Pops.”
He muttered something that would make even the most sea-tested sailor blush, and abandoned the ancient technology for fresh biscuits.
I sat down across from him and propped my feet up on the corner of the desk as I finished off the biscuit I’d started in the truck.
“So,” I said as Pops leaned down and popped the top off a glass bottled Coke and handed it to me. “What do you need a hand with today? Is the mechanic coming in to work on the Bonanza?”
He pointed to a set of keys. They were sitting on a tray that had Invoices scrawled on a label that had yellowed with age.
“Thanks,” I said as I set the keys on the desk and washed my biscuit down with a swig of Coke. “Now, I don’t have to bug you about locking the place up.”
“It’s yours, Jase.”
“Yeah, uh—thanks for making me a key. I appreciate it.”
Pops shook his head and pulled his handkerchief out of his overall pocket. He dabbed his forehead and then gave me a look that said I was the dumbest guy on the planet.
“Those are my keys, son. The only ones there are.”
My half-eaten biscuit fell to the wax paper that was spread out on my thighs, shattering into a desert of crumbs. “What are you getting at?”
“You want it, it’s yours. You don’t want it, I’ll find a buyer to take over or bulldoze the place. I wouldn’t blame you for choosing door number two. Running this place is a young man’s game, and the paperwork takes all the fun out of it.” He patted his heart. The one that Mel had told me was failing him. “I don’t have it in me anymore.”
I stared down at the keys. “Pops…”
He slowly hefted himself out of the desk chair. “Take a walk with me.”
Pops and I walked along the edge of the hangars. It wasn’t too busy today. There was a storm rolling in, and people weren’t too keen on battling Mother Nature.
Isaac’s jet was the only thing on the tarmac. His pilot would be heading north to New York, getting out of dodge before things were grounded.
We made our way past the last hangar, where a large plot of land was fenced off with orange construction netting.
Pops rested his walking stick against the post and wiped the sweat on his brow. “This was supposed to be a new hangar,” he began. “I had a contractor come out here and give me an estimate a few years back. I was gonna find someone to start doing instructional flights again. This was gonna be it. Little classroom. Couple of puddle hoppers in here. A shop to teach ’em some basic mechanics.”
“So, you want me to get this off the ground?” I asked, surveying the land.
“The money for it’s in the bank.” He huffed. “I just never found the right person, so I didn’t greenlight it. It didn’t feel right to have a building sitting empty, and I wasn’t gonna let just anyone take over. ”
“Alright.” I nodded.
I didn’t know anything about running a business, but it couldn’t be that hard. Right?
Hell, I could pester Luca, Will, and Isaac if I needed business advice. Bridget was a badass when it came to bookkeeping, and Hannah Jane, Kristin, and Maddie knew just about every business owner in town.
“But I think spending all that cash on a new hangar would be foolish,” Pops said out of the blue.
There was a record screech in my mind. Pops needed to stop playing Yoda with me and start straight-talking. “So, what do you want me to do with it?”
“Build on it.”
I laughed. “Pops, you’re not making any sense.”
“You got yourself a good woman, now here’s your piece of dirt. Put down some roots. Even birds need a place to land.”
I looked at him like he was out of his damn mind. Because he kind of was.
“You want me to build a house? Next to the tarmac?”
“I ain’t sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. This place is a lotta work,” he said, pointing a knobby finger at me. “So don’t say yes before you talk it out with Little Melly, you hear? She’ll tan my hide if you go off making big life decisions without getting her take. But if you wanna put you a little house here, there’s always the loft over the office while you build. It’ll make the commute nice and short.” He looked at me out of the corner of a wrinkly eye. “And once that house is built and you fill it with youngins’, the loft will make a nice little spot for you and Melly to, uh, have some alone time. You know—when the kids are drivin’ you up the walls.”
I rested my arms on top of the wooden post that held the construction fencing.
Life was… Life was fucking good. Everything was falling into pl ace like this had been the plan all along. Mel would lose her mind when I told her. I had always loved this place more than my own home.
I was going to run the shit out of it. Get kids so excited about flying that they’d wanna get their pilot’s license before their driver’s license. Bring in pilots to give sightseeing tours of the coast. Take the biplane out and do tricks just for shits and giggles.
I could see it all.
And I could see it all with her.