CHAPTER 24
Jannie
Jannie peered up at the clear blue sky, swallowing against the tightness in her throat as luna moths raged through her chest and down her belly. “Where is he?”
They had been waiting at North Las Vegas Airport for the FAA examiner, who was due to arrive an hour ago, and he was still nowhere in sight.
She reached to rub her neck.
Nick noticed. “Here, let me do it.”
His long fingers closed around the muscles at her nape, massaging as only he could, making her shudder at his touch. “He’ll be here.”
She closed her eyes. Trying to focus on how his hand worked wonders on her tense neck, she passed her flight plan from one sweaty hand to the other.
Last night, she’d spent over two hours compiling it and running through a practice oral exam with Nick, reviewing everything he could think of that the examiner might ask, including engine performance.
Yes, she was as ready as she would ever be, but this stress of waiting wasn’t doing anything to help her frazzled nerves.
So much was riding on this exam, the culmination of a long-held dream she never thought she’d achieve. She couldn’t take the humiliation of not passing this. Not to mention she’d never hear the end of it from her brothers if she failed. They would find out. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.
Most importantly, it was her ticket to a different career, her get-out-of-medicine-jail-free card, if she ever chose to use it.
“Is being late some sort of mind game they play?” she asked.
“Maybe.” Nick grinned. “No one knows.” Seeing her wide-eyed expression, he quickly added, “Kidding. I’m kidding. I’m sure he has a valid reason.”
The next moment, she recognized the sound of a piston prop, and Jannie’s heart skipped a beat. She squinted, shielding her eyes from the blinding Vegas sun as she spotted an airplane on final approach. But when it came into full view, she realized it was a Mooney.
Her heart sank.
Shit. The examiner, she knew, was arriving in a blue Beechcraft Baron.
“It’s not him,” she said unnecessarily.
Nick pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. “The next plane will be the guy.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. I’m thinking positive.”
A few feet away, on a weathered wooden bench, two elderly gentlemen sipped Pepsi from cans, alternating between watching planes land and eyeing her and Nick with curiosity.
“Who’re you waitin’ for, boy?” one of them asked Nick. “The FAA examiner?”
“Yes.”
The other man chuckled. “Let me guess: he’s late.”
Nick nodded. “A bit.”
“They’re always late. Got all the time in the world to let you rookies stew.” His eyes narrowed as he looked Nick up and down. “You reckon you’ll pass? It’s not an easy test, you know.”
Nick gave him a half-smile. “I know.”
He didn’t correct the guy, no doubt realizing the last thing Jannie felt like doing was getting into a friendly conversation and answering a bunch of questions.
Again, Jannie heard the distinctive buzzing of a prop and looked up, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe this time? A moment later, what came into view was definitely not a blue Baron.
“It’s a V-tail Bonanza,” she said, not bothering to conceal her disappointment.
And it was red.
One of the men guffawed. “Ohhh, shiiit.”
Nick looked at him questioningly.
The man pointed around his can of Pepsi, a wide grin splitting his face. “That there’s your FAA guy, comin’ in right now.”
Jannie cast him a doubtful glance. “It is?”
“Yup.”
“We were expecting a blue Baron.”
The man watched the little red plane descend and float for a very long time before the wheels softly touched down. “The one who flies the Baron is Everett. Not the one who’s here.” He slapped his knee. “That’s Newell in that red V-tail. You’re screwed, boy.”
·
Nick had warned Jannie that the Designated Pilot Examiner would ask her, as he put it, “any fucking thing he wants.” She was prepared for the knowledge part to take a while but not more than three hours.
By the time he finished firing question after question at her, she understood why the elderly gentleman had snickered.
Lucky for her, a lot of what the examiner asked wasn’t newly learned, and Nick had thoroughly grilled her during their practice sessions.
Newell’s expression revealed nothing, but Jannie knew she had done well. Now she was nearing the end of the three-plus-hour flying part, and still, his reactions and expressions remained neutral.
Jannie adjusted her opaque glasses and focused on the instruments before her. All she had to do was land the airplane, and she was done.
She checked the needles. Good, perfectly aligned. The descent rate was six hundred feet per minute, approaching minimums, and Jannie waited for the examiner to call the runway in sight.
“Minimums … minimums,” the electronic voice announced.
Jannie waited. OK, Newell, any day now.
“Cow on the runway!” Newell called. “Go around, go around!”
Jannie blinked.
Oh, OK.
She wasn’t landing yet, it seemed.
Muscle memory kicked in. Power up, pitch up, flaps to approach.
Speed looked good, and she climbed through four hundred feet. She moved the lever to get the flaps back up, pushed the navigation switch to on, and let the autopilot fly the missed approach.
It felt like an eternity, but she did it.
“Well done,” Newell said, sounding like a robot.
She didn’t have time to bask in the pseudo-praise because he immediately moved on to the holding instructions.
“Fly published missed, expect further clearance ten minutes after the hour.”
With the autopilot flying, Jannie reviewed the magenta lines on the multifunction display.
“Ready for a circling approach?” Newell asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Prepare the ILS approach to runway 12 Left, circle to land two-five. I will coordinate with ATC to see if they can accommodate.” He cued the mic.
“Nellis approach, this is November 290 Fox Delta. We’re conducting a checkride.
We’re requesting a circling approach to two-five from 12 Left if you can accommodate. ”
“November 290 Fox Delta, fly heading 360, expect direct JOKUS for the ILS runway 12 Left, circle to land runway 25, maintain 7,000.”
Jannie cued the mic and gave Approach a quick readback of the instructions, then reprogrammed the GPS.
Just as she finished, Approach called again. “November 290 Fox Delta, you are now cleared present position direct JOKUS for the ILS 12 Left, circle to land runway 25.”
She read back the clearance and activated the direct-to function of the autopilot to take them to JOKUS. The angle of intercept looked good, so she pushed the approach button.
Soon, she reached the altitude of 2,800 feet.
“Field in sight,” Newell called.
Good, no imaginary cow this time. Ditching her opaque glasses, she caught sight of North Las Vegas straight ahead. Using her eyeballs was so much easier. She exhaled a long breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit.
Maintain visual contact with the airport environment.
Piece of cake, Jannie, Nick’s encouraging voice echoed in her mind.
She then proceeded to perform a circling approach, straightening the airplane on a three-mile final to runway 25, and could not hold back a triumphant smile. No way Newell could find fault with what she’d just done. It was a perfect approach—she knew it, and surely, so did he.
The main gear kissed the runway with a satisfying chirp as the rubber met the asphalt. The little Piper rolled for a while, gradually coming to a stop, and Jannie’s smile widened into a grin that lasted well through her completion of the shutdown checklist.
“All right, Miss Larssen.” Newell turned to her, his expression still deadpan, but with a flicker of respect in his gray eyes. “You are an IFR-rated pilot. Let’s take care of the paperwork to make it official.”
·
Nick
If that shining look on her face was his reward for all the work he’d done with her, only to have to let her go, then it had been worth it.
Jannie hadn’t just passed; she’d passed with flying colors. Given her talent for this, which he’d noticed the instant he’d gotten her in the cockpit, he wasn’t surprised. The woman was born to do this. A pity that she wasn’t going to put those innate talents to use.
Yeah, he was selfishly hoping she’d change her mind.
In the furthest corner of his soul, the place he rarely dared to look, lived another goal: to make her fall for him.
Because he’d been in love with her for over fifteen years, and the past few weeks had confirmed it.
His failed relationships and constant search …
it all made sense now. He had looked everywhere for years and never found what he’d really been after.
Because what he had been searching for all along was her.
But there was a silver lining: he had achieved his most important goal, which was helping her break out of her funk.
The Jannie who approached with Newell, her chin held high, her cheeks rosy, and her beautiful blue eyes sparkling, was not the same Jannie who’d nearly thrown him out back in Orlando.
Orlando … he grimaced. The very thought of that city felt like a punch to the gut. He shoved it aside, choosing instead to focus on the beautiful woman confidently striding toward him in her figure-hugging navy pants and crisp short-sleeved white shirt.
Damn. She looked like a goddess.
Sky goddess.
A smile tugged at his lips. He liked that one. She was every part the professional pilot, and, glancing at the Piper she’d perfectly parked with the marshaller’s guidance, he got ideas.
A couple of feet away, the two grizzled men still sat, having switched from Pepsi to beer to go with the footlong sub sandwiches they were enjoying for an outdoor lunch.
“So, what do we have, sir?” he asked examiner Newell, knowing full well the answer. Nick thought he saw a smile in the man’s eyes, but he could hardly tell.
“We have an IFR-rated pilot.”
One of the old guys on the bench snorted. “Not bad, for a woman.”
Nick shot him a look, narrowing his eyes. “For a woman? We’ve moved way past the 1950s, sir. I’ll have you know she’s also a—”
“Nick.” Jannie squeezed his arm, an amused smile on her sweet face. “It’s OK.”
“No, it’s not,” he muttered but shut his mouth. He didn’t want to cause a scene and cloud her day, so he didn’t inform the sexist old-timers that she also happened to be a doctor, even though he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
“She passed with flying colors,” Newell said.
Nick nodded. “Not surprised in the least.”
The second man’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “You’re not?”
“Nope. She’s a Larssen, and as good a pilot as any of them. Maybe even better.”
“Larssen?” The first man frowned. His watery eyes widened, and he raised a gnarled finger. “LarsAir!”
“That’s right,” Jannie said.
Recognition sparked in the second man’s eyes. “The private jet company?” he asked Nick.
Nick nodded. “The very one.”
“We watch them take off and land all the time at the big airport,” the first man said to Jannie. “Sweet fleet of planes. That’s your family?”
“Yes.”
Newell finally cracked a semblance of a smile. “I have some paperwork to do. I’ll meet you in the pilot lounge.” With that, he turned and headed for the FBO.
The second man raised his beer. “Well. Congratulations, little lady.”
Jannie gave the men a dazzling grin. “Thank you.” She turned to Nick. “Shall we?”
He took her hand, and together, they walked to the large white building.
“This is nice,” Jannie said, looking up at the covered walkway as they approached the entrance.
He went to push the button to ask to be buzzed in through the double glass doors, but Jannie grabbed his sleeve.
She reached up to let her blonde hair down from a sleek ponytail to cascade over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with exhilaration.
And then, she hooked a hand behind his neck and crashed her lips to his.
The blood pounded hot through his veins as her tongue thrust into his mouth.
How was it that every kiss from her kept getting better?
He gripped the back of her head, his other hand gently wrapping around her throat, his thumb over her pulse point.
He felt the throb there, and his own heart raced faster. God, how he wanted her.
She broke the kiss, brushing her lips across his cheek. “I owe it all to you.”
“You had a lot more to do with it.”
“I want to thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Teaching you was my pleasure.”
“That isn’t what I meant. I want to get you something. I had a few ideas, but I want it to be something you like. So, I’ll just ask: what do you want?”
You, beside me every morning, with me every day, beneath me every night.
He shook his head. “Just seeing you happy and getting your rating is enough. You really don’t have to get me anything.”
“But I do. There must be something. Everyone has a secret thing they want.”
Don’t go.
“Stay.” Shit. How had that slipped out?
Her face fell. “You know I can’t. I have to go home, Nick.”
He gave her a wistful smile. “Wishful thinking.”
“I wish I could stay too. But I have patients and responsibilities and—”
“Yeah, I know. Forget I said that. Please.”
“So, other than that, what would you like?”
He pictured her, beautifully tied up for his erotic pleasure, looking up at him with those dark blue eyes, every bit of her attention on him, amped up to the stratosphere in anticipation of what he would do to her.
His heart began to race. Maybe …
“Well … there is one thing.” I want you to know me. Understand me. Really understand me.
She brightened. “Name it.”
Might as well go for broke.
Nick caught her gaze and held it. “Come to my club.”