Come Fly with Me

1. Taylor

One

Taylor

I’m late.

This never happens to me, and right now I’m losing it because of my new first officer.

“Oh my god,” I mutter to myself as I once again pace the narrow corridor just outside the pilots’ lounge, wrapping my hand around the back of my neck. I’ve been waiting in the lounge for over an hour and growing more and more annoyed as the minutes tick past. I like to arrive early to decompress before my flights, but there’s no decompressing going on at all.

We’re about to have a serious conversation when he gets here. This is not the kind of thing Crescent Airways represents, and while I’ve had my fair share of incidents, this will not be one of them.

I glance down at my watch, and as I look up, the doors to the lounge slide open and in walks a man who would normally be able to bring me to my knees. But I’ve changed, and that kind of shit is left for the newbies.

He’s tall and tanned, and even with his uniform on, you can tell he has the type of body that’s made for women. His eyes are the most striking shade of green, and they take me in as he nonchalantly strolls up, like he’s about to blow right past me.

My brain finally has a second to catch up and remind me that this is the guy I’ve been waiting for.

I point my newly manicured finger at him as he walks straight for me now, my heart racing in my chest, which is a totally foreign feeling for me. I don’t get this way in the company of men. I’m Taylor Patterson, queen of casual when it comes to guys. When it comes to my job, I’m anything but.

“I’m late because of you,” I hiss, and he stops in his tracks. His beautiful emerald green eyes start at my legs and trail up my body, lingering for a second too long on my breasts, before he moves to my face.

My hands are on my hips, my legs wide as I prepare myself for this showdown because it’s going to be anything but civil.

“Are you talking to me?” he asks, and I catch a hint of an accent hanging in his words.

“Yeah, De Niro, I’m talking to you.” His arrogance shouldn’t astound me, but for some reason, it does. His flippant attitude and laid-back look are even more bothersome considering I take my job very seriously. His dark brown hair is slicked back, longer on the top and buzzed short on the sides. He’s wearing a five o’clock shadow that used to be frowned upon back in the day, but things have grown a little more lax around here.

In three quick strides, he’s standing directly in front of me, a smirk on his face that, like his body, screams he’s made for women. He smells of salty sea air, and for a split second, I contemplate closing my eyes to bask in him. If he smells this good standing just mere inches from me, I can only imagine what he’d smell like with his body wrapped around mine.

But no. I’m his superior, and that is never going to happen.

“No, I’m not,” he instantly argues, and I wrinkle up my nose in disgust. He is late, and now he’s arguing with me. This isn’t off to the best start, and I’m not one to back down.

“Yes, you are. I’ve been waiting here for you, and you’re just casually strolling up here like I’m supposed to thank you for finally showing up.”

“I was in the bathroom,” he quips back, a snip to his tone that makes me want to argue with him even more. “You know, too much coffee. Nature calls.” He shrugs now, then hits me with a wink as if I didn’t grasp that he was trying to tell me he was taking a shit.

“You’re disgusting and acting like a child.”

“You’re beautiful.”

I let out a perturbed huff of air, but my stomach gives a quick flutter at his words, making me huff again. I brush off his last comment, not bothering to dignify it with a response.

“Tell me you’ve notified scheduling of your arrival at least?”

“Yep, no worries. I’ve got things under control, Taylor.”

Bullshit.

The only thing he has under control is the woman he just crawled out from under, I’m sure.

“It’s Captain Taylor Patterson,” I correct.

Being in this role has caused me to have to defend my title more times than I can count. This is a male-dominated occupation and being the only female captain means I’m rarely taken seriously.

“Sure thing, Captain,” he quips back and there’s nothing funny about his smart-ass response. He’s starting to get under my skin, and if I can’t get myself under control, this fourteen-and-a-half-hour flight to Sydney is going to be really brutal.

I whip around, just outside the doors to the main lounge, my finger jabbing right into his chest. “Listen, I’m paid less than you. Men far outnumber me, with there being only a whopping seven percent of us women in the industry. I experience sexual harassment and mockery on a fairly regular basis, right now being a prime example. And I’ve had to literally beg on my hands and knees for a two percent raise. Something I’m sure you’re given by just walking into a room.”

I let out a long exhale of breath because as much as I want to go on, I can’t. We’re late, and my rant is going to get me nowhere with this green-eyed charmer.

He blows out a breath before saying, “Yeah, I get that. Girls in the industry aren’t really a big thing, but you made it, so it does happen.” He shrugs casually, which only adds to my annoyance. Why am I not surprised that he missed my point entirely?

“You’ve never been sexually harassed at work, and it shows.” I roll my eyes, letting out another bothered sigh. I swear, the men in this industry are just so damn clueless.

He lets out a throaty laugh, and there’s something endearing and sexy about it, but I let it roll away. I don’t need this.

“I’m happy to show off my flirting skills, but I’d never cross over into harassment. No dick pics involved.” Again, he laughs and adds, “Well, only if you ask for them.”

He shoots me a perfectly straight-teethed, panty-dropping smile, and I imagine in the past this would have made me pull him into a bathroom for a quick fuck.

But not anymore.

I walk into the lounge, grab my flight bag and hat, and start to head toward our gate. We still have our exterior and interior checks to do, and I like to introduce myself to any new staff that will be working on my plane.

This guy is screwing up my plan.

“I’ll swing by and pick up our flight release,” he calls after me, his voice all but disappearing as I hit the crowded airport. My heels click loudly on the floor, drowning out his annoying yet somewhat sexy voice.

“You do that, First Officer.”

“Of course, Captain,” he shouts back above the din of the crowds and conversation.

Last fucking word.

I’m onboard chatting with one of the flight attendants when First Officer Smartass strolls up, two coffees in a cardboard carrier, a brown paper bag and the flight plan tucked under his arm.

His presence changes the entire demeanor of the small space, filling it with sexual tension and annoyance. The annoyance radiating from me, and the sexual tension from Ali, a sweet young flight attendant with blond hair and a cute little butt.

“Hey, you,” he says. And just as I’m about to correct him, I realize he isn’t talking to me. He gives Ali a wink, and a smile and her skin flushes bright pink.

Fuck me. I remember when a wink could elicit that response from my body and what it felt like to be wrapped up in this world of hooking up and one-night stands.

“You up for a night out, Hunter?” Ali asks, her hip jutting out a little, a playful smile on her face. And for some reason, a surge of jealousy courses through my bloodstream, making me suddenly warm and wanting to tell her to back off.

This is so not like me, and I chalk it up to all the changes that have happened in the past few weeks. I swallow hard and remember what it was like to be young and cute, this job being a non-stop party. She needs this time to find herself. Him, on the other hand, he’s a little younger than me and is obviously going to be one of those guys that just never settles down.

“Depends on what you’re up to,” he purrs back. And that feeling of jealousy is gone and replaced by nausea. His response is so typical, and it makes me want to puke.

Ali giggles but doesn’t have the opportunity to respond as another flight attendant calls his name.

“Hunter,” she calls from the middle of the plane, her hand waving at him, a smile plastered across her face. She squeezes between Ali and him, slipping her arms around his neck and embracing him as if they’re old friends. I imagine he has a lot of female “friends”.

“Hey, you, good to see you,” he says, and I watch Ali’s face fall. He has no idea what these women’s names are, giving a generic “hey you” greeting each time.

“Got called in today, huh?” she asks. Her name is Brigid, spelled oddly, something I remember from meeting her a few weeks back when I was moved to this line.

“Nope. I was moved to this line yesterday. I’m off reserve,” he states, and she gives him another hug.

I watch his face and for the first time since meeting him, I see something genuine in his eyes, and I could swear it’s pride. Pride in the fact that he’s finally found a place for himself. Now if he could only keep his dick in his pants, things would be a lot better.

After our final checks have been completed, the door is closed, and I’ve settled myself into the cockpit, I turn to my first officer who I now know is named Hunter, and ask if he’s ready.

“Things all set on your end, Hunter?”

He laughs, and again it’s that deep, throaty, sexy laugh that almost makes me forgive him for being an ass.

“That’s not my name.” He points to the tag on his uniform, his finger tapping over the spot where it’s pinned.

First Officer J. Campbell

“My name’s Jake. Actually, it’s Jacob, but everyone calls me Jake.”

“Seems like everyone calls you Hunter.”

He laughs a little, and it’s different this time, endearing and natural.

“Just a nickname.” He gives his eyes a roll and begins to explain. “When I was a kid, my dad took me hunting, but I hated every minute of it and cried. I wouldn’t even try to kill an animal. I just sat in the woods holding this big ass gun and crying. Pretty much scared anything away with all my boo-hooing.”

His story is cute, and it makes me look at him a little differently.

“You tell one flight attendant this story and suddenly I’m Hunter and not Jake. They claim it’s fitting since all I hunt now is women, which also really isn’t true. I’m just a bit of a flirt.” He winks like this is supposed to be endearing, and all it does is make me want to gag.

And there goes that small amount of credibility he was earning back.

Hunting women…what a slimeball.

I shake my head, looking away from him, I ask, “You want to get things rolling here, Jake?”

“Don’t mind if I do, Captain Patterson.” And then he picks up the receiver and announces for the flight attendants to prepare for takeoff.

He slips the coffee cups from the cardboard carrier, handing me one and placing it in the cup holder. Thank god we’re on a new plane because those old ones are so antiquated.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I grabbed pretty much everything they had to offer. It’s in the bag.” He indicates to the brown paper bag sitting in front of us. “Your coffee is black, but if you tell me how you like it, I’ll remember from here on out.” This time there’s no insinuation in his words, no teasing playful comment.

“I like my coffee with two creams and two sugars. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Well, I had to see if I could win you back over after that less than stellar first impression you got of me.”

I scrub a hand down my face and shake my head. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks coffee is going to save him and the rest of his gender.

It’s going to be one long-ass flight.