6. Terrible Decisions for All the Right Reasons…
6
Terrible Decisions for All the Right Reasons…
Mac
I pull onto the highway and start for home, telling myself to forget all about that redheaded ball of trouble behind me. Yes, a woman like that can only do one thing—complicate the hell out of your life. Been there, done that, lost half of everything in the process. Alarm bells went off in my head the second I laid eyes on her. Run from the orange woman. Turning her down is one-hundred-percent the right move. I’ve been up since four in the morning to do a sunrise tour of the island, then I shuttled some rich people to Santa Luciana because they wanted to switch to a different six-star resort. All I want to do is go home, have an ice-cold beer, and fall asleep on my couch for a few hours.
I turn on the radio, and the DJ’s voice comes on. “The storm is set to hit Santa Valentina Island at 3:00 p.m. today. The Coast Guard has issued a request for all boats to come back to shore immediately…”
I glance at the clock. It’s five after one. I could totally make it to Azure Island and back in plenty of time. An image flashes through my mind—it’s the high-maintenance woman who’s about to miss her sister’s wedding. I picture her sitting on her suitcase with her shoulders slumped. She’s probably crying her eyes out. I feel a pang in my chest as her face pops into my mind. The truth is, no one is going to show up. She’s stranded. It’s either me or no one.
Forget it. This is not my problem. Just go home and relax.
Eight hundred dollars, and I bet I can talk her into more. Thirty minutes of work, and Jack will have the extra fees covered for the month.
“Dammit.” I turn the bike around and go back, already regretting what I’m doing.
I spot High-Maintenance sitting on the dock exactly where I thought she’d be. She’s got her eyes shut tight, and she’s talking on the phone, too engrossed in the conversation to notice me pull into the lot. I cut the engine and walk over in time to hear her saying, “That is so unfair, Mom. I’ve spent the last twenty-six hours in airports and on planes! I haven’t showered in days! The last meal I had was a package of stale cookies they served on the flight yester?—”
Pause. “They don’t serve peanuts anymore because they don’t want to kill anyone.” Pause.
“Can we not talk about my issues with carbs right now?”
I clear my throat loud enough for her to hear. She looks up at me.
“Let’s go,” I tell her.
Her eyes grow wide, and she stands, quickly gathering her things with one hand. “Mom! I might just make it after all! I think I found a lift!”
Hanging up the phone, she grins up at me, her whole body wiggling like a happy puppy. “Really? You’ll really take me?”
“The cost is eight hundred dollars and the promise that you’ll hurry up and board. I’m serious about that storm. I want to be back here on solid ground in under forty minutes.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She throws her arms around my neck and gives me a huge kiss on the cheek. Well, that wasn’t so horrible. For someone who says she hasn’t showered, she sure smells nice—like vanilla shampoo or something. And those curves pressed up against me don’t exactly hurt.
“Sorry!” she says, blushing. “I just can’t believe it! I had lost all hope. My entire family was about to disown me, but now, you’re rescuing me! You’re like a knight in shining armor, only it’s a shiny yellow plane instead of a horse.” She laughs and shakes her head. “That made no sense at all, sorry. I’ll stop talking. We have to go!”
“Yes, we do.”
When we reach my plane, I step onto the pontoon and unlock the baggage door, then lift her enormous suitcase into the hold. I hold out my hand for her garment bag, but she shakes her head.
“I’m going to need to get dressed while we’re in the air, so I can be ready for pictures,” she says. “Makeup too.”
“Suit yourself,” I say, closing the compartment.
I take a few steps along the pontoon to the passenger loading door and give it a yank. It opens to reveal the stairs. Turning back to her I hold out my hand to help her, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she just stands on the dock, her face all scrunched up with concern. “Oh my.”
Raising one eyebrow, I say, “What?”
“It’s just… I wasn’t expecting the door to double as a set of stairs. ”
“Is that a problem for you?”
“No,” she says quickly. “That doesn’t seem rickety at all.”
“Hey, Tweety is as solid as they come.”
Her mouth quirks up. “Tweety?”
“Do you want the ride or not?”
“I do. I definitely do.”
I reach out and take the garment bag from her, then offer to help her climb from the dock to the pontoon. She takes my hand and steps onto the pontoon, which dips a little and causes her to grip my hand tightly and let out an awkward laugh. An odd warmth spreads through me, which makes me wonder if I’m coming down with something. She starts up the steps, exchanging my hand for the railing while I try not to glance at her ass. Nuts. I looked. That is one very nice ass. Perky and curvy and just … nice. Yup, she’s trouble. Thank God I’ll be rid of her in twenty minutes.
A minute later, I’ve untied the plane from the dock and I’m getting into the cockpit. High-Maintenance is sitting in the seat next to mine typing away on her phone and I can’t help but read it over her shoulder. On tiny, sketchy plane with a super-sexy but surly pilot about to take off for Azure Island.
Huh. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended. On the one hand, she thinks I’m sexy. On the other, she’s using the word sketchy to describe my Tweety Bird. Electing to pretend I didn’t see it, I settle myself in the pilot’s seat and start up the engine. A moment later, her phone reads out: Incoming Message from Vivian: Woohoo! You’re going to make it to the wedding! Send pics of hot pilot guy and tell him to get the stick out of his ass.
I glance over at her just in time to see her eyes grow wide, her face turn an even darker shade of orange (with a pinkish hue) and her scrambling to type something into her phone. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s shutting off the function that automatically reads out messages. She finally looks up at me. “Umm, that message wasn’t about you.”
Smirking a little, I say, “Right.”
“No, seriously, it was about … another pilot on my flight from New York.” She stumbles a little on her words as she adds, “He was super grumpy and very good looking...”
“I’m sure he had good reason for being in a bad mood.”
She nods, looking completely uncomfortable. “Probably, but we’ll never know.” She clears her throat. “I’m Paige, by the way. Paige Chadwick.”
“Mac.”
“Mac? As in a Big Mac?”
I give her a cocky shrug. “You’re not the first woman to call me that. Usually they see me naked first.”
She stares at me for a second and nods, running her tongue over her teeth, and I can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or if she’s thinking about me naked. I also can’t help but notice how green her eyes are. I sit and gawk back at her like an idiot until her smile fades into an expectant look. “Should we go? I thought we’re in a hurry.”
Dammit, Mac. Get your shit together. It’s not as if this is the first gorgeous woman you’ve seen. “You should pay me first.”
“Oh right,” she says, snapping her fingers, then digging around in her bag. “Do you take Venmo?”
“Yup,” I say, opening the app on my phone to the QR code.
She holds her cell up to mine, then says, “Gamble Air? That’s the name of your business?”
“Yes.”
Tilting her head a little, she says, “Seems like an odd name for an airline. I mean, the last thing you want to do when you’re getting on a plane is think it’s a gamble.”
“It’s my last name,” I say in a flat tone.
“Oh, well that makes sense then,” she answers in a sheepish tone. “Eight hundred, yes?”
“That’s right.”
As soon as my phone pings to indicate the funds have been received, I start up the engine. Once we’re up in the air, she turns to me and shouts, “Is there a bathroom where I can change?”
“I take it this is your first time on a Twin Otter.” I talk quietly, so she’ll know there’s no reason to yell.
“Yes! It’s my first time!” Didn’t work. She’s still piercing my ears with every word. “Where can I change?”
I point behind me with my thumb. “Right there.”
Her cheeks go bright pink, but she nods anyway. “Okay.”
She tries to unbuckle the seat belt, but it won’t work. I reach over with one hand and undo it for her, my fingers brushing against her hip and making my blood race a little.
She climbs out of the seat and hurries to the back while I get my first look at the mass of black clouds we’re heading toward. Shit. That doesn’t look as far away as it was supposed to be. I turn slightly to the west and increase our speed, realizing this may not have been my best idea yet. The next few minutes are spent forcing my head not to turn, even though my eyes very much want to peek. But since I’m not a creep, I don’t do it.
Soon, an enormous, fluffy peach takes over half the cockpit. I look over at her and bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. But it’s too late. It comes out anyway. “Does your sister hate you or something?”
“No! All the bridesmaids are wearing these. Tiffany thinks these are really pretty. ”
“Tiffany’s wrong. You look like you got stuck in a cotton candy machine.”
Putting up one hand, she scowls at me. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
“Sorry,” I say, turning my gaze back to the darkening sky. “I just preferred your original outfit.”
When I glance over at her again, my mouth drops open in awe as she opens the massive makeup case that she has on her lap. The open lid reveals a mirror and about twenty drawers holding all kinds of products and brushes. Gesturing to the case with my right hand, I say, “Yeah, you’re not high-maintenance at all.”
She opens her mouth to say something but a gust of wind blows us to the right, reminding me that we’re not on a sight-seeing tour. She looks out the front window. “Please tell me that storm is a lot farther away than it looks.”
“Okay. It’s a lot farther away than it looks.”
“Is it really?”
“No, but you asked me to say it was.” I fight to correct our course, doing my best to look calm. Another blast of air hits us, this time accompanied by a snap of lightning that blinds me for a second. Paige lets out a little yelp, then says, “Sorry. I’m sure it doesn’t help when I do that.”
“Don’t worry about it. But also, try not to do it again. I need to focus.” Because if I don’t, there’s a very good chance I’m going to get us both killed.
She nods quickly, then opens a tube of pink lipstick and starts to apply it.
Another zap of lightning hits, this one closer than the last. She shrieks again and it’s all I can do to not shriek too.
Okay, this is bad.
I turn my head and look behind me, only to see that there’s no point in going back. We’re right in the middle of the storm now and the only way out is to go through it .
The plane bounces, causing her to draw a line of pink right up the middle of her orange cheek. “Shit,” she mutters.
Shit is right. Rain starts to pelt down in sheets, turning the already poor visibility into no visibility. Well, this is just great. I’m going to die with some high-maintenance diva who’s dressed like a stone fruit. Just what I always wanted.