Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Britt rested her head on the plane seatback.
She was slouched in the center seat, sandwiched between a lady she didn’t know in the window seat to her right, and Linc on her left.
They were supposed to already be in the air heading home.
Instead, they’d been sitting at the gate for twenty minutes past their scheduled departure time.
And counting. Apparently, the flight their crew was coming in on was late, so they were stuck waiting for it to arrive.
It didn't help that they were parked on the tarmac when it was one-hundred and one degrees outside.
The air conditioning was having a hard time keeping up, and the heat was getting to her.
“You can’t tell me no one else can fly this plane,” Britt grumbled.
It was highly likely she was going to melt.
Vegas was technically in the desert, but it was muggy as hell in this plane.
Yes, she’d grown up in Louisiana where it was arguably just as hot and muggier than Vegas, but she hadn’t lived there in years and she wasn’t acclimated to the heat like she used to be.
It was starting to feel like a sauna in the plane, and for some reason, she always felt like she couldn’t breathe in saunas.
“I’m sure there are plenty of people who can fly it,” Linc said, “but they’re not our crew.
” His eyes were closed behind his glasses, arms crossed over his broad chest. “And before you ask, no, we can’t keep this crew, and, yes, we do have to wait for the new one,” he added, anticipating her argument.
“They have regulations on how long crew members can work before they’re required to rest.”
Know it all.
“Maybe it’s not time for this crew to rest. Ever think of that?”
“Give it up, Zana. We’re at their mercy.”
“Wow. So much for solidarity. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to be on my side, not theirs. Backing them instead of me is just plain mean.”
Linc shrugged. “Never said I was nice.”
Britt almost laughed at that one. Linc was the nicest guy she knew. There wasn’t a single malicious bone in his entire body. Unassuming and sweeter than cherry pie, as her momma would say.
Growing up, her three overprotective brothers had done their best to keep guys away from her, especially once she’d started winning pageant titles.
Stick a crown on your head, and suddenly you became a notch men wanted to add to their belts.
It wasn’t until she’d moved away to go to culinary school that she was able to distance herself from the attention she got back home.
She’d bet her Henckels Zwilling Pro knife set that people in her culinary class had never watched a pageant in their lives, let alone knew she’d won Miss Louisiana.
Same thing when she’d moved to Idaho… no one knew, and if they found out, they didn’t care.
Pageanting wasn’t a way of life in the Pacific Northwest, like it was in the South.
Well, at least not like it was in her small hometown.
Take Linc, for instance. He knew all about her pageant history, including the fact she’d made it to the top twenty in the Miss America pageant, but he was more impressed by her Coq au Vin recipe than her score in the swimsuit competition.
Yes, one of her past dates had actually asked her that. Even worse, when she’d informed him the Miss America Organization had eliminated the swimsuit competition years ago, he’d offered to “judge” her suit on his own. Husband material right there, that one.
“Right,” she told Linc. “You’re not nice; you’re a badass. I forgot.”
Has a nice ass, is more like it.
She couldn’t deny Linc was hotter than fish grease.
If she were being honest, he was one-hundred percent the type she’d go for if they weren’t friends.
Tall and fit, with dark hair and deep brown eyes that twinkled with mischief, he was the kind of good-looking that snuck up on you mixed with a little preppiness and a lot of understated charm.
Add in the black-rimmed glasses he wore, and it was entirely possible the moniker “sexy nerd” had been coined for him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the flight attendant’s voice crackled through the speakers, “We’ve been informed the plane we’re waiting on has landed. Once the crew arrives, they’ll get you on your way as soon as possible.”
“Great,” Britt whimpered. “I’m going to die on this plane.”
Linc didn’t miss a beat. “Can I have your convertible?”
It wasn’t worth the effort to think up a snappy comeback, so she ignored his low chuckle and dragged her purse out from underneath the seat in front of her.
She dug some mints out of a zipper pocket in her purse, and popped one into her mouth before automatically dropping another into Linc’s outstretched hand.
He didn’t have to ask for one, and she didn’t have to offer. Peppermint telepathy was real, folks. At least, it was between the two of them.
“Would you rather…”
“Not now, Linc.”
“...hiccup every time someone kissed you,” he continued anyway, “or sing at the top of your lungs whenever you go to the bathroom?”
She scrunched her nose. “Why do you always come up with the worst choices?”
“Because I’m the Would You Rather Master.”
“They’re horrible.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.
“Here’s an idea,” she said, not bothering to mask the sarcasm in her voice.
She was hot and cranky and not in the mood.
“Let’s play the quiet game.” The quiet game was something Laurel had her first-grade students play whenever she needed a little mental health break in class.
The object of the game was for the kids to stay quiet as long as possible.
The child who managed not to speak the longest, won a prize.
Linc snorted. “Subtle.”
“Was it?” Her voice was laced with saccharine. “Then I said it wrong.”
He shook his head and smiled. “So, you’re not going to answer?”
“Ugh, fine.” If she didn’t, he’d harass her the entire flight. “I go to the bathroom way more often than I’ve been kissed, so I choose hiccup when someone kisses me.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced over at him. “What? No snide comment?”
He raised his brows.
She studied him through narrowed eyes. “What?”
He shrugged.
“What?”
“Just thinking you need to be kissed more often.”
Her mouth suddenly felt cottony.
Did the temperature just spike ten degrees?
She had absolutely no clue how to respond to that, so she stuffed another mint into her mouth and shifted to look past the woman next to her and out the window. She didn’t know if Linc was looking at her, but if the prickle of awareness making her neck tingle was any indication, he was.
Thirty-five minutes of waiting in the heat later, their crew finally showed up. Britt was feeling equal parts sticky and sleepy. She must’ve dozed off at some point after they’d taken off because Jake’s voice woke her up.
“Hey, Pierce?”
Since Jake and Laurel were three rows back, he must have left his seat to talk to Linc. However, since he wasn’t addressing her, she kept her eyes closed and tried to go back to sleep.
“Ever figure out who your mystery woman was?”
Mystery woman? That perked her up.
“Shhh, don’t wake her,” Linc hushed, obviously thinking Britt was still asleep.
“Guess you could post online.” Jake’s voice was only marginally softer than before, so she was still able to hear him above the constant whirl of the engine.
“‘If you’re missing a black bra, DM me.’ Then,” he continued, “to verify, ask her to send a selfie wearing only her panties to see if they’re a matched set. ”
Wait. What? Dread started coiling in her gut, like a rattlesnake ready to strike. Did he say black bra? She’d been wearing a black bra Friday night. The same black bra that was now A.W.O.L.
Ohmigod!
“I’ll get right on that,” Linc quipped dryly. “Right after I register as a sex offender.”
“Hey, just figured you’d want to know who she was. Finding lingerie in your room can’t be an everyday occurrence for you.”
“Only when you leave yours.”
Linc?
Jake laughed. “In your dreams, Pierce. I’m so far outta your league it isn’t even funny.”
“I think you’ve got that backwards, Lockwood,” Linc countered. “Besides, a selfie won’t work.”
“Why not? It’s brilliant.”
“Maybe… if I hadn't found her underwear after you left.”
OhmigodOhmigodOhmigodOhmigodOhmigod!
“No shit?”
Linc released a heavy sigh. “Zero shits to be found.”
I slept with… Linc?