Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The wheels on the jet make a telltale squawk when they hit the asphalt runway.
A thousand palms sway against a crystal blue tropical sky.
White, pink, blue, and orange houses shimmer in the distance.
That’s all fine and normal. It’s the bright pink golf cart that’s hurtling across the tarmac that has me cursing.
Holy hell.
Streamers of tropical fabric whip in the wind as a young woman pilots the thing across the pavement at breakneck speed.
Cole appears at the cockpit door. “Shit. Change of plans. Looks like we’re not going into town. They’re coming to us.”
“Bloody hell. You can say that again. Get those stairs down.”
Cole jumps into action as I check the clip in my pistol and slip it back into my chest holster. Scanning the tarmac and surrounding tropical foliage, I look for signs of trouble on the women’s heels.
When the door swings open, I step out and into the bright sunshine and almost claustrophobic island heat.
The little pink cart slams to a halt at the bottom of the air stairs.
The fabric floats to a stop around the women just a second before the blonde from the gas station back in Los Angeles leaps out. “Move it, Nan.”
The older woman tosses a banana peel over her shoulder into the cart. “I’m moving!”
I mutter some more ‘what the hells’ when I really get a look at Kate. Good god! Talk about a lush thing.
She’s in a bikini. A scrap of thread. A green bit of spandex so small it should be illegal. The gauzy thing tied around her hips only makes her look more naked.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I rush down the steps toward the women. My eyes nearly pop out when she leans over, showing me a fine view of her bare legs, as she fights with a big floral beach bag that’s wedged in the back of the cart.
The elderly woman, wearing a bright blue swimsuit and a flowery jacket-thing, hustles past me and climbs the steps with surprising speed. “Bust us up out of here!” she shouts as she passes through the doorway.
“Oh lord,” Kate mutters. “She’s gone nuts.”
“Look out, let me take that.” I grab the oversized bag and urge her toward the stairs. “From the look of the way you were break-necking across the airport, I take it we need to move out.”
“The sooner, the better. No one’s missed us yet. Or we’d be swarmed by guards or worse...”
She climbs the stairs ahead of me, and I can’t get my fucking eyes off her ass and those strong, mind-blowing legs. “Shit. This is not good.”
“Huh? Did you say something?”
Grunting, I try not to think about being locked in the plane with her for hours, because I’m not sure I can hold a coherent conversation. “Keep moving.”
Cole throws the door closed as soon as the stairs are up. “Buckle up. We’re getting clearance for takeoff right now.”
I duck down so I can see out the little window in the door. “What about the cart?”
“Fuck the cart. It’s not in our way. Sierra’s words, by the way.”
“Okay. She’s the pilot.”
I shove the gigantic bag into the forward closet. “Jesus, that monster weighs as much as a bloody cannon. What’s in the thing?”
Crossing her arms, the woman glares at me with the fiercest green eyes I’ve ever seen. “My grandmother’s life, thank you.”
Uh. Fuck. I didn’t even think of that.
Cole laughs. “Yeah, meathead. Have a heart and get your gigantic ass buckled up.”
When I turn, I find the grandmother watching me with a bemused quirk on her lips. I’m sorely outnumbered. God save me now.
The plane begins to roll just as I get to the closest seat—the seat right next to the green-eyed, green-bikini-wearing goddess. A wave of tropical fragrance floats around me, like a pina colada is parked in the seat next to me, not a snappy twenty-something.
Suppressing a groan, I slam the buckle home on my belt. With an irritated huff, Kate crosses her arms over her voluptuous chest as she leans away from my shoulder.
Raising her brow, with her voice cool, she says, “You’re too big for the seat.”
“They’re made for kindergartners.”
“Not for giant meatheads, apparently.”
“You got some serious attitude on you there, luv. I’m not the one who stood someone up for a thank you date, then needs us to come save her from some rock in the middle of the ocean.”
That clams her up, but she's flustered which I find mildly gratifying for some reason. I’m not one to needle someone too much, but riling her feels good.
Maybe because since I met her at the gas depot and then got those texts from her, she’s been under my skin.
Which should not be happening. Women do not get under my skin. That’s for the young and foolish.
After a minute, she says, “Sorry, I didn’t plan on coming back here. I should have messaged you that I wasn’t going to make it the other night, but things got crazy and I was flying home before I had time to blink.”
Our private company jet bounces around a bit as Sierra pivots us toward the runway. Unfortunately, my eyes fall right to her jostling cleavage.
She waves a hand in front of my eyes. “Ugh! See? Here I am, in distress, and you’re ogling me.”
I grin. Can’t help myself. I’m sure I seem like a creepy bastard, but something about her makes me reckless. “If you’d put on some clothes, that wouldn’t be a problem. Why are you dressed for the beach anyway?”
“We were pretending that we were going to the beach so we could escape. It was a distraction.”
“A distraction, alright. Every man on the island probably enjoyed the hell out of it.”
Her eyes widen as her mouth drops open. “What?!?”
Kate’s grandmother taps me on the shoulder. “Brilliant plan, huh? Kate devised the whole thing.”
“It worked,” I admit. “Do you have anything warmer with you?”
“In that bag you complained about.”
Trying not to look at her beaded nipples I say, “You’re cold. That much is obvious.”
“I’ll get something when we get up to altitude.”
I unbuckle and she gasps and reaches for me, “Wait, you can’t be up while we’re taking off.”
That makes me laugh. “I appreciate the concern, lass, but I’ve been hanging out of open airplane doors and helicopters for over a decade. Getting something from your bag is a piece of cake.”
Keeping my eyes off of her… now that is another story.