Chapter 6
Nate
The black, white and brown Beagle mix wagged its tail at my feet.
“No more begging, buddy. Back to your seat,” I said, pointing to one of the back rows in the plane where a four-year-old French Bulldog, a middle-aged Terrier, and some kind of Dachshund mix lounged on a blanket spread across the seats.
The Dachshund had been particularly well-behaved and I was thrilled for that, given the home that was picked out for him.
The Beagle didn’t listen. He kept wagging his tail, waiting for scraps from the chicken salad that had been served for lunch.
I was sorely tempted to feed the little guy, especially when that tail started thumping wildly on the carpeted floor of the plane.
But the dog would be better off in his new home if I didn’t indulge him in bad habits now.
“C’mon. Time to get back to the pack,” I said gently, gesturing once more to the dog’s companions.
“Psst,” Casey whispered, tapping my shoulder. “I think he might not understand English yet.”
I laughed, set down my nearly empty plate on the lacquered brown table, then scooped up the dog and carried him to the rear of the plane where a row of cushy seats had become the temporary quarters for the hounds on the flight.
“Go back to sleep with your friends,” I said, gesturing to the other four-legged creatures who’d been conked out most of the ride.
I stroked the dog between the ears and scratched his chin till he settled, curling up in a tight ball.
The canine quartet of traveling companions was hitching a ride on my flight on their way to New York.
The local shelter in New Orleans didn’t have room for all these dogs, and had made plans with a no-kill rescue in Brooklyn that had already matched these four pets with homes in the metro area, since New Yorkers often preferred smaller breeds.
I was an animal lover who had grown up with dogs, so it was a no-brainer for me to get involved.
I regularly arranged to be an “escort” for animals in need, ferrying them from various locales around the country back to the Brooklyn shelter that served as the matchmaker.
It was a win-win—I was already going to be making the trips, only now I had an outlet to raise awareness about both sustainable biofuel and what the shelters and animals needed in the inevitable local publicity.
One of the dogs—the Dachshund mix—was en route to my sister, Kat.
She lived on the Upper East Side with Bryan, and the small dog was going to be a gift for their twin daughters.
I would have liked to have a dog myself, some kind of scrappy breed like a Border Collie that could catch Frisbees in the park and go for long runs along the West Side bike path with me.
But I traveled far too often to be able to give a dog a good home.
I did this instead; chauffeured pets in style to their new homes. My small contribution to the world.
I returned to my seat, the flight attendant having cleared our plates. Casey was wearing a short jean skirt and high-heeled sandals. I didn’t try as hard today to refrain from staring, but I did give myself a three-count for a quick perusal before returning my focus to her eyes.
“Someday, I’m going to keep one of them.
” I nearly dropped my hand on top of hers, and clasped it, like we were on a date.
I resisted, and, not for the first time on this flight, I wondered if she was refraining too.
Not from holding hands, but from talking about the night before and the mind-blowing physical connection we’d shared.
Neither of us had mentioned it this morning.
She’d rushed out of my room to shower and pack.
I’d had early meetings on the property. While my trip to New Orleans had started a few days before hers had, I was done with business by mid-morning, so I’d simply made a few final calls and then we’d taken off for the airport.
There we were met by the dogs and a local TV reporter.
Between wiggly tails and wet muzzles, I gave her my spiel while Casey doled out treats.
The dogs had distracted us most of the flight.
They’d barked on takeoff, then needed, understandably, some petting and comfort once airborne.
Still, I wasn’t entirely sure what to say next to Casey.
Or if anything needed to be said. I normally knew my way around women, but this project with Casey was a little…
unconventional. Should I ask when our next lesson would be or simply tell her the time to arrive and what to wear?
Tight skirt, no panties, and heels. Oh hell, there went any semblance of concentration.
“When you do, what will you name them?” she asked, twirling a strand of her hair around a finger. Maybe she was nervous too. Wait, was I nervous? Hell no. I didn’t get nervous.
“Fred,” I said dryly.
She rolled her eyes. “How about Carl?”
“Or maybe just Mark. I always thought it would be funny to give a dog a completely human name, and then when you’re in Central Park to call him back to you. Not with c’mere Fido, or c’mere Roxy, but C’Mere Mark. Come on now, Ethan.”
Casey smiled and laughed, kicking her leg back and forth, like a pendulum. Okay, she was nervous. I needed to say something.
Instead, my brain tripped on the name I’d just shared. Ethan. “That reminds me. I haven’t seen Ethan Holmes in a while.”
“Ethan at the Victoria Hotels, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We worked together at The Luxe back when I was VP of biz dev. He was in operations, and we were both up for the top job. Good guy, but I haven’t talked to him much since he left when he didn’t get the CEO gig.”
“I hear Victoria Hotels is trying to revamp its image a little. That the chain is seen as a bit stuffy, and they want to appeal to a younger crowd.”
“Yeah. I heard that too. I should check in. See if he wants to grab a beer. Maybe shoot some hoops now that I’ve lost Jack as my pick-up game buddy. I’ll have to give Ethan a shout when I get back.”
“So Ethan’s a no-go then, for your future dog’s name,” she said with a wry smile.
I snapped my fingers. “I know what to name my future dog. Rory, after the comedian,” I mused, and her eyes lit up.
“Her show was so great. Remember?” she said, nudging me. “We were laughing all night when I took you to see her.”
For my birthday last year when I’d turned thirty-two, she’d taken me to see my favorite comedian, Rory Ford.
We were nearly doubled over during her bit about modern dating.
It occurred to me then that I was hunting for any sort of connection, and that even suggesting I’d name a hypothetical dog someday after a gift she’d given me was my roundabout way of tying this conversation back to us.
But I didn’t plan to psychoanalyze the fact that I wasn’t sure what to say to the woman I’d made cry out my name last night.
Deep down, I already knew why I was struggling to broach the topic.
Because I could talk to her about anything—about dogs, and books, and business, and women, and men, and I’d been able to do that long before I’d seen her beautiful body bared just for me.
I didn't want last night to have messed up our ability to talk.
“Casey,” I said, turning to look her in the eyes.
“Yes?”
“About last night…”
Her eyes widened in fear. “You didn’t like it?”
My heartbeat quickened. That was the last thing I needed her to think.
“Don’t even go there,” I said, scooting closer to her on the smooth leather seats in the plane.
The big jet hummed quietly as it soared through blue skies.
The attendant had retreated to the front of the cabin, giving us privacy.
She brought her hand to her chest and breathed out hard. “Good. Because I thought…”
“You thought what? That I was going to say you were too forward? Too direct?”
Red inched across her cheeks. She nodded.
“But you weren’t either of those,” I said, my lips curving up as I raised my hand, brushing a finger down her cheek. “You did great.”
“I did?”
I nodded. “Yes. What did you think? Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes. So much.”
“How did it feel to let go?”
“Honestly?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Uh-oh. Now it was my turn to worry. Maybe I should have finished things off last night, because what if she didn’t enjoy the kind of sex she wanted to try?
What if last night had been my only chance to be with her and I’d blown it by waiting?
Fucking idiot. What kind of guy denies a woman who’s hot for a no-strings one-night stand? This one.
“Yes. Honestly,” I said, steeling myself.
She brought her face closer, our foreheads nearly touching.
My chest tightened, and my nostrils flared as I inhaled her scent.
Her sweet lips were so close to my ear, as she whispered, “Nate Harper, you gave me the best orgasm of my life last night. It was better than any of my toys, and that’s saying something, because those bad boys are top-notch. ”
A bolt of lust tore through my chest, like lightning heating up the sky. Desire and pride surged in me, and I was immediately ready to go again. Now. Tonight. Anytime. I wasn’t going to miss my chance.
But when she inched away from me, that sexy lustful look was gone and had been replaced by a studious, businesslike one. “What about you? I mean, I know you didn’t come and all. But was it good for you?”
“It was spectacular, Casey.”
A smile lit up her face, and the moment turned oddly surreal again. “I think we should do it again. I did a little research this morning on things we can try.” She was the eager student, ready for more lessons.
I arched an eyebrow. “You did?”