7. Taylor
Seven
Taylor
So far this is the best layover I’ve ever had, and I have yet to hop into bed with anyone. I’ve never seen this much of a city in all my time as a pilot; it’s generally spent staring at the ceiling of a hotel room or getting familiar with the hotel bar.
We’re pulling out of the theater parking lot, Jake’s hand now resting on my thigh, its weight heavy and comfortable. I turn to him, struggling to keep myself from smiling, as I ask, “How did you know that The Fast and the Furious would be playing?”
“It wasn’t playing,” he replies but doesn’t elaborate, a self-satisfied grin on his face.
“What does that mean?”
“Can’t you just let things be, Taylor?” he asks, but there’s nothing malicious or judgmental in his words.
“While I know we haven’t known each other very long, I’ve spent more time with you in the last two days than I have with most of my friends.” Not only have I spent more time with him, I’ve enjoyed it far more than what I used to end up doing on a layover, but like hell if I’m telling him that. His ego doesn’t need any more stroking. “And you should know by now that I can’t let something go without question.”
He chuckles a little, his hand giving my thigh a bit of a squeeze, but he doesn’t respond right away.
“Don’t you just like a little mystery in life?”
Mystery? To me, that just screams lack of control, and the last time I had a little mystery in my life was when I found my ex-husband Trent had been cheating on me. Mystery can go fuck itself.
I’m not sure why it even took me by surprise in the first place. He was never the faithful type, and honestly, I’m sure he thought the same thing about me. But when we said, “I do”, I took that shit seriously or at least I tried to. I’d spent most of my life jumping from bed to bed, and then suddenly I was tied to one man for the rest of my life, a man who it turns out was an egotistical asshole. What I saw in him I’ll never know. I don’t even think he knew when my birthday was. He certainly never knew me.
“No,” I reply, my memory reminding me what it’s like to be blindsided by life.
“Well then, if you must know, my friend owns the theater. I put in a call.”
I look over at him, suddenly overcome with emotion. I feel like a jerk for forcing him to give up his secret, a little choked up over his kindness and his ability to set something like this up so last minute, but more than all of that, that he paid attention when I said it was my favorite movie.
Suddenly, I’m hit with something he said to me when we first met. Your coffee is black, but if you tell me how you like it, I’ll remember from here on out.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d remember. But then a part of me, the part that is always there reminding me that happiness is fleeting and people lie, cuts in. It tells me he’s the same as all the others. And underneath all this bullshit— the cheeky smiles and the kindness— is someone who will eventually fuck me over for someone younger, prettier, smarter, someone who hasn’t slept around.
“Why?” I ask, my need to question everything taking over. Because when I failed to question things in the past, I was left in the dark and made to look like a fool.
“Why what?”
“Why’d you call in a favor?”
He looks over at me, one eyebrow rising at my question, the corner of his mouth quirking up along with it. But he doesn’t say anything. Ignoring my question, he changes the subject. “Where do you want me to drop you off? The hotel?”
I shift a little in my seat, hating the idea of spending the rest of my time in Sydney alone. I chew my lip, trying to figure out how to word what I’m about to say next without Jake realizing that I kind of do want to continue hanging out with him.
“Where are you headed?” I ask, almost as if I’m just trying to make conversation. You know, breezy and casual.
“Wherever you are.”
My heart begins to race, and my thoughts are a scattered mess, making me admit that I want to spend more time with him. “Can I exchange my two hours for a few more hours with Jake’s Tour Company?”
He looks over at me, a smugness to his face as he sits a little taller and when he speaks his voice booms above the wind that’s rippling through the car. “I’ll have to check, but he may be fully booked.” His confidence is cute as he pulls his phone from his pocket and pretends to scan the screen while his eyes shoot back and forth between the road and the screen.
“If you’re too busy I’m sure I can find someone else to spend the rest of my day with.” I cross my arms over my chest and focus my eyes out the window at the car in front of us. My attempt at feigning nonchalance fades fast when Jake reaches over and draws a few simple circles on my thigh with his finger.
“Oh, wait. It looks like I’ve had a cancelation, but the booking is for the rest of the day and into the evening. Lots on the agenda.”
I clench my teeth and suck in air, as if I’m contemplating his offer. He obviously knows I have nothing going on and the idea of going back to the hotel instantly pulls a feeling of boredom into my head. But I mull over the idea for a few minutes, letting him think I have far better things to do than traipse all over Sydney and its suburbs with him.
“I think I can fit it all in,” I reply casually, shrugging my shoulders.
“Perfect.”
Jake suddenly cranks the steering wheel, causing my body to shift unexpectedly and practically fall into his lap as he takes a hard right turn and barrels down an alleyway. Pulling into what can only be described as an employee parking lot, he kills the engine and we both climb out of the car.
I follow him to a door that leads into the back of a restaurant, but as we walk in, the din of the diners fills the room. There are quiet conversations buzzing, and Jake pays no attention to the waitress who scrambles over to where he’s standing and scanning the room.
“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you?” she asks, but Jake just shakes his head and walks straight to the bar with me trailing behind. I don’t follow him when he steps behind the bar, and interrupts a tiny blond bartender, a woman who looks a little bit older than me.
“Oh my god!” she squeals, stamping her feet like she’s running in place before she throws her arms around his neck. I watch as he hugs her back with just as much intensity, his arms around her waist, lifting her off the floor as he whispers something in her ear. They eventually separate, and she says, “Go find a table, and I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
I hate the feeling of jealousy that slaps me in the face, but that’s what happens when you’ve watched your marriage crumble at the hand of a cheating spouse. I have no reason to be jealous. He’s a flirt, and he probably does this with any woman who would be stupid enough to spend the day with him.
He grabs a bottle of red wine and two glasses from behind the bar and returns to where I’m waiting for him, tipping his head in the direction of a booth that sits at the front of the restaurant by a large floor-to-ceiling window.
It’s more secluded than the other tables, and it pulls us away from the lunch crowd that is already beginning to dissipate. The place smells of warm bread and garlic, and I bask in the smell, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.
“Smells amazing in here,” Jake says, obviously aware of the possible drooling that might be happening.
“Totally.”
When I open my eyes, Jake is watching me, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He was far more right than I ever thought possible. He is winning. I have no idea how he knows everything I love and how he’s conning me into thinking he’s different, but fuck, it’s working.
“A friend of yours?” I ask, tipping my head a little so I can see the perky blond behind the bar. She’s laughing and chatting with a few customers, but I catch her looking in my direction, and I pull myself back in.
“You could say that.” His response is cryptic, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Do I sense a hint of jealousy in your voice, Captain?”
“No,” I scoff instantly, but that’s exactly the reason for my question.
He opens the wine and pours us each a glass, and then hands me a menu but prefaces it with the fact that he will be ordering for us.
“What if I don’t want what you order?”
“Have I failed you yet?”
I pause before answering, letting him think I’m weighing his words. But before I can answer, Barbie Bartender is at our table, squeezing in next to Jake and planting a kiss on his cheek.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her body turned so she’s facing Jake.
“Three-day stop before we head back,” he replies casually.
“And what? You didn’t think to call me?”
“Had other plans.” His answers are short and to the point, acting as if he’s put out by her intrusiveness.
“I see how it is.”
“Settle down, I was planning to come by tonight, but we had some free time.” He motions to me sitting across the table from him. “Taylor, this is my sister Elise. She’s loud and demanding, and this wonderful place we are in is her restaurant.”
She smiles at me and it’s sincere and genuine. I feel myself let out a quiet sigh of relief.
His sister .
“And Elise, this is Taylor Patterson. I sit next to her in the cockpit while she flies the plane.” He winks at me, and I chuckle a little at his cheeky description of our jobs. I extend a hand, and she shakes it.
“It’s really nice to meet you. Jake rarely brings anyone around to meet us.” The eye roll rivals the one I’ve perfected, and she gives Jake a shove as she slips out of the booth. “Your usual?” she asks.
“Yep.”
My fingers slide up and down the stem of the wine glass, a silence passing between us. Jake reaches over, his fingers following the path of mine. His touch causes goosebumps to rise on my skin, and for a split second, I lose myself in the emerald green of his beautiful eyes. I swallow hard and attempt to regain my composure.
“So your sister, huh? You know you could’ve come to visit her without me.”
“Do you not want to be here with me?”
“Of course I do…” Why the fuck did I just say that?
“What?” he asks, his voice going up an octave at the end in a teasing manner, obviously catching me in my admission.
“Stop it. Don’t be a jerk. Now tell me about your family.” My words come out in a rush in the hopes that he doesn’t start to ask me questions.
“Okay then. Way to change the subject.” He winks at me but plays along. “Elise is my oldest sister, and she opened this place about seven years ago. She had this crazy idea about making pizza long and narrow rather than in circles. It’s like a flatbread but even longer, a novel concept that people like. She’s been pretty successful.”
“That’s really cool. I’m totally in support of badass women and pizza.” This time it’s me winking at him, and I let my fingers brush over his as his hand rests on the table. “Any other brothers or sisters?”
“Yep, another sister. She’s here in Sydney too.”
“Where do you fall in this whole mix?”
“I’m the baby,” he tells me, a sweet but sinister smile on his face, and it makes me laugh.
“Oh, that explains everything,” I say dramatically, giving him my signature eye roll.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The appalling tone in his voice is loud and clear, but the smile on his face says he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“The baby, spoiled rotten and able to get away with everything.”
His mouth falls open in mock surprise as he slowly shakes his head. “Never.”
I pick up my wine, my eyes focusing on him over the rim of my glass as I take a drink. The tension between us accelerates, this teasing thing we have going seems to play on both of our attractions to each other.
“How’d you end up in the Air Force?” I ask, changing the subject before it falls to something far more seductive than I’m ready for.
“My father was in the Air Force. He went to the academy, and I followed in his footsteps. I always wanted to fly planes, so it seemed like the right move.” He pauses, taking a drink, and as he does, I watch his mouth, his lips tinted when he pulls the glass away, his tongue darting out a little to lick them. “It was hard though. I grew up here in Sydney, and suddenly I was living in the States.”
“Wait, what? You were in the American Air Force? I just assumed you were in the Australian Defence Force.”
“Yeah. I needed a change. After spending my whole life living on an island, and being eighteen, I wanted to branch out. My dad is American, and my mum is Australian, so I have dual citizenship, and Colorado seemed like a world away.”
“That explains your accent.” It’s something I noticed immediately upon meeting him, a hint of Aussie mixed with American. It’s hot, but Aussie accents usually are.
“It does, but it’s got nothing on yours.”
“I don’t have an accent!” I shout appalled as I’ve worked really damn hard to lose it. That and adding “eh” to the end of sentences like all good Minnesotans do.
“You don’t say, eh?” Jake jokes, and I laugh out loud at his forced Minnesota lingo. I shift my foot under the table, giving him a little kick in the shin, but he hooks his foot around my ankle.
My breath catches in my throat at the contact, and I bite down on my bottom lip, but it does nothing to quell the feeling that ignites between my legs.
Goddamn this Aussie charmer!
“When I first started as a pilot, people would be exiting the plane, and I’d be standing there thanking them, and I swear like every third person would ask if I was from Minnesota. After about a year of hearing it, I started to focus on ditching it.”
“It’s part of your charm. It’s cute and endearing, and in my opinion, something that’s quite a turn-on.”
“I imagine a lot of things turn you on.”
He shakes his head, his eyes focused on mine. He wets his lips and drops his voice low. “Just you; you and your snarky attitude, and your hot little body and that mouth. Fuck me, that mouth.”
Holy shit. I’m pretty sure the room is on fire, and I’m burning up right along with it. And I. Don’t. Care.
Luckily for us, his sister appears with a pizza that runs the entire length of the table and it’s covered in all different toppings.
“Here you go,” she says, not realizing she’s interrupted a moment that could have easily led to us ripping our clothes off each other in a public bathroom. “Your usual.”
“Thanks, El,” Jake says, giving her a grateful smile.
“No problem, but next time you’re in town you better let me know. Come by and visit me and bring your girlfriend.” She tips her head in my direction and before I can correct her, she’s walking away.