Chapter 3 Fly the Sexy Skies #2
I reappraised Hudson, daring to properly inspect him for the first time since my mental trip to poundtown last night.
He had brown hair and eyes to match. His thick, dark glasses gave him an air of dignified mystery.
The vibe was very clean-cut NASA scientist from the 1960s by way of a soulful indie-guitar player.
I’d already known those things about him, but today I noticed other things, too.
The big hands. The impossibly long legs.
The sleeves of his button-up, which he kept rolled to his elbows. The soft, gentle way he spoke to me.
“C’mon,” he tried again. “I’m not a distraction. Teaching me about the sex toys is part of your work. Help me out. Please?”
For a moment, I allowed myself to entertain the possibility of opening myself up to him. Just a little bit. Just for the good of our project.
No. Focus. Discipline. Control. That was how I kept myself on track and my career from going up in flames.
I would never have another GalacticSolutions disaster ever again. I wouldn’t allow it.
“The Fantasy has to be my priority right now, not teaching you the finer points of penis sleeve extender usage and maintenance.”
“But—”
“I agree that you need to learn, but it doesn’t have to be from me. I’m sorry, Hudson. It’s not personal, but my answer’s no.”
Could he hear how sincere that apology was? How I wished that things were different? That I was different?
He must have, because his eyes softened.
“I wish my last girlfriend had broken up with me as eloquently as that.”
The tops of my ears burned at the way he lumped me and girlfriend in the same sentence.
“But I think I can change your mind,” he added.
“You can try, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Forewarned is forearmed, they say.”
Please don’t talk about forearms. I can’t stop looking at yours.
He seemed so confident. Not in an arrogant I’ll get you because I’m a badass and no one can resist my charms way. That would have been easier. However, it was an I’ve seen the future, and I know this works out great for both of us way.
“I wouldn’t count on it. But don’t worry. It’s for the best. You’ll look back on this and thank me someday.”
He screwed up his face in confusion, opening his mouth to utter another devastatingly earnest response, no doubt. But before he could, a harsh ping filled the air. The gate agent made an announcement.
The direct flight to Dallas was boarding.
Grateful for the diversion, I joined the snaking line of passengers, leaving Hudson and his extra-leg-room ticket to lounge behind me.
By the time I made it up to the door, though, the stone-faced airline host informed me:
“Ma’am, we’re going to need to check that bag to your final destination.”
“I’m so sorry, but I can’t. The laptop in it can’t go in the hold. It has all my company’s proprietary design information on it.”
Mr. Gate Agent didn’t even look up from his computer. “If you don’t surrender the bag willingly, we’ll have no other choice but to assume there’s a nefarious reason and then confiscate and destroy the bag.”
I shifted uncomfortably. Making scenes wasn’t my thing.
“If I could just explain. I’d be happy to check the bag and carry the laptop on its own—”
“There’s no room in the overhead bins to store your personal items—laptops included. I just said that. Are you going to hold up everyone?”
Fluorine Scout threatened to make an appearance, a chemical reaction rising in me, unbidden.
“But—”
Then a voice cut over the din of airport chaos, approaching until it reached just over my shoulder.
“Sorry! So sorry! Thank you, love.”
Love?
I snapped around to find Hudson approaching me, confident and chipper as ever.
Oh no. Not just approaching me. Coming in for a cheek kiss.
Which I completely botched by turning my head at exactly the wrong second.
There wasn’t enough time to avert. By the time I realized what was happening, Hudson’s lips were already brushing against mine.
It was the softest of touches. Feather-light. Nothing more than a brush. Still, my knees went weak.
He kissed me. Hudson kissed me. By accident, but…
I’d just been kissed.
And worse?
I wanted more.
If he noticed my osculatory distress, he didn’t let it show.
“Sorry,” Hudson said, laying the charm on thick as I reeled, lips still buzzing with the taste of him. “She was just holding my bag. Here’s that sweatshirt you left at the airport lounge, baby. My girl, always forgetting things. Everything okay here?”
I slipped the sweatshirt on, trying to play the dutiful girlfriend—though not entirely sure why. My brain was still too scrambled from the lip-lock.
Mr. Check-In raised one eyebrow. “That’s your bag, sir?”
“Yeah, and I have extra leg room, so I think I have a dedicated overhead bin, right?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Great. Let’s board. Shall we, dear?”
It took me a too-long beat to realize he was talking to me. I was his dear. At least for the moment. And he had swooped in, playing the boyfriend, to save my bag from the hell that is the luggage hold.
With two quick, resigned zaps of his ticketing gun, Mr. Check-In welcomed us aboard. Hudson reached for my bag…
At the exact same moment that I stepped forward to get it.
We collided, our tangled feet kicking the bag forward…
A familiar sound rattled from the beaten old fabric. My heart stopped.
The ticket agent’s face tightened as he inspected it. “I’m sorry, is your bag…vibrating?”
Yep. It sure was.
The same vibrator I’d used on myself last night, buried in the depths of my backpack, was currently going so hard that its momentum was literally scooting the bag across the carpeted floor. I choked. “No, no, it’s not—”
But Hudson reached for the bag with a casual air. Like everyone in the terminal wasn’t currently watching us because they suspected we were carrying either a bomb or a vibrator. Mr. Check-In’s expression flared, clearly delighted at the possibility of catching us in a bag-related lie.
“I’ll ask again: That’s your bag, sir? Remember, lying to an airport official is a crime, and both of you could be in trouble—”
Flatly, Hudson fished out the vibrator and held it aloft for inspection without a hint of shame.
“Between you and me, the BuzzCorp products are better, but this junk will get the job done when I’m traveling.”
Mr. Check-In blanched. What do you say to a man pulling out a vibrator and brandishing it for an entire airport to see?
“Just take the batteries out before you board.”
I must have entered a fugue state, because the next thing I knew, Hudson and I were walking down the jet bridge, side-by-side. It took everything in my power not to think about how soft his sweatshirt felt against my skin or how great it smelled.
Hudson, though, couldn’t have seemed less bothered. He whistled.
Whistled.
Like nothing had happened.
“You kissed me,” I finally managed.
The whistle fizzled out. “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t supposed to—”
“And you kept me from maybe going to terrorism jail over a vibrator.”
“I think terrorism jail is just called jail.”
“And…” I wanted to be outraged, to put some distance between us. If I was angry at him, I didn’t have to face reality: that I was starting to like him. “Shit. That was really nice of you.”
“Try not to sound so disappointed,” he teased.
I wasn’t disappointed. I was confused. I’d just rejected his tacit offer of friendship, his request for help, and been a total ice queen to him all week, and he’d repaid me by…keeping me from humiliating myself in front of the entire Cleveland airport.
My better judgment told me to take the win. But as the open plane door approached and Hudson’s shoulders brushed mine, I made a snap decision.
Dammit. Here goes nothing. I fiddled with the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’d lent me.
“Okay, so I guess I owe you one.”
The brightness of his smile could have rivaled any supernova. “You mean—”
“Yeah, I’ll help you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about the industry. But this is one hundred percent professional. I’m just doing this to make sure The Fantasy is a success.”
“Deal.” He put his hand out for me to shake. I took it, trying not to mentally compare how I’d imagined his hands last night to how they actually felt now, brushing against my palm. “And I owe you one. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
Careful what you wish for. I may want you.