Chapter 3 #2
His shoulders were locked. His hands, which had been resting lightly on his thighs, now had a white-knuckled grip on the seat edge. His jaw ticked. His eyes, which were full of awe a few moments ago, were now fixed straight ahead… and unblinking.
Oh.
He’s panicking.
She’d had this happen a bunch of times before.
Some people were okay flying, but not up in the cockpit where everything was just right there in front of them.
Keeping her tone soft and steady—her pilot voice, but the warm version she only used with people she liked.
And she supposed she liked Milo, not like…
like him romantically, but as a person he wasn’t terrible.
“You doing okay over there?”
His swallow was audible. “Yep.”
A lie. A terrible one.
And he was looking a little green. The last thing either of them needed was for him to lose his dinner all over the cockpit.
She nudged the yoke gently, giving them a smoother pocket of air. “Hey,” she tried again, quieter. “Talk to me.”
His breath shuddered. Nora watched as he pressed his fingertips to his thigh, tapping out a rhythm that was too fast to be anything but nerves.
Although she could easily imagine him typing out computer codes like that.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just…didn’t realize it would feel this…small up here.”
Damn. The poor guy, trying so hard to look rugged in that ridiculous vest and now unraveling at three thousand feet.
“Okay,” she said, doing her best to sound reassuring. “Look at me for a second.”
Naturally, he hesitated before he actually turned. But his eyes were the giveaway—wide, wired, scared in a way that he’d probably rather die than admit.
“There you are,” she murmured. “You’re okay. We’re okay. This is just your brain being a jerk.”
That earned a sharp breath that was almost a laugh.
She kept going, her voice low and even. “Here’s what I need you to do. Unclench your hands.”
For a moment he didn’t respond, but then she watched as Milo tried, failed, and then tried again. Finally, he pried his fingers off the seat.
“There you go. See? That’s good,” she said. “Now plant your feet flat on the floor. Feel the heel. The toes. Ground yourself.”
Glancing down, she watched him shift his feet until they were flat, like she instructed. When he nodded, she knew he was feeling what she wanted him to feel.
“Nice. Now match my breathing.” She inhaled slowly, but in a loud and exaggerated way, before holding and exhaling gently.
He followed, shaky at first, but then again. And again. His shoulders loosened by degrees.
“There you go,” she said softly. “See? You’re not going to die today.”
He shot her a hard side-eye. “Not exactly the comforting phrasing I was hoping for.”
Unable to help it, she laughed. Not in a way that was making fun, but because she appreciated his honesty. And the snark.
“Want something better?” she asked.
He nodded faintly.
“We’re flying smooth. Weather is clear. You’re in a perfectly maintained aircraft with a pilot who knows this sky like her own backyard.” She leaned in just enough for her shoulder to brush his. “And I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
His gaze met hers and held, and she saw something there—gratitude or something more—before he quickly glanced away. His chest continued to rise with one steadier breath…then another.
“I’m serious, Milo,” she said quietly into her headset. “I’ve got you.”
“Yeah,” he replied softly, turning back to look at her instead of the windows. “You kind of do.” His voice was low and gruff and…it did something to her. Between the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, she was momentarily mesmerized.
And for a dangerously warm heartbeat, she forgot that she was supposed to be focusing on the instruments.
Shaking her head to clear it, she continued the tour, spouting all kinds of random nonsense—nervous chatter, her mother used to call it—but it passed the time.
Milo didn’t ask any questions, but he was definitely focused on the property below, and so they finished the flight, each doing their own thing.
The floats kissed the water with the softest ripple, the kind of flawless landing that would make any instructor proud. She coasted them toward the dock, cut the engine, and the sudden quiet settled around them.
He exhaled the longest breath she’s ever heard a man release without collapsing.
She waited, giving him a beat to gather himself, to peel his fingers off the seat one by one like they’d been glued down. He straightened, rolled his shoulders back, and cleared his throat.
And just like that—he was trying to look cool again.
Adorable.
“So,” she said, unbuckling. “How’d we do up here?”
He wiped his palms on his shorts, subtle as a sledgehammer. “Great. Totally fine. Smooth ride.”
“Mm-hmm.” She hid her smile. “Did the turbulence give you trouble?”
“Nope.”
It was crazy how they were both essentially lying.
“I know for me, personally, it feels like so much…you know… more when you’re in a small plane compared to a commercial jet. Especially up here in the cockpit. It’s normal to feel a little nervous.”
He slid her a look that was supposed to be offended, but considering he was still slightly pale, it lost its impact. “I wasn’t nervous.”
“Right.” She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “That explains the deep breathing exercises, the death grip on my upholstery, and the fact that you stared at the windshield like it owed you money.”
His ears turned pink. “I was just… appreciating the view.”
“Of the dashboard ?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “I…well…you were showing me how… grounding your feet helps. I was focusing.”
“Mm-hmm. And the part where you forgot how to blink?”
“I blinked.”
“Not for a solid two minutes.”
He pressed his lips together, stubborn. “Still wasn’t nervous.”
Unable to help it, she laughed, warm, teasing, not unkind. “You know,” she said lightly, “it’s okay if you were. Happens to a lot of first-timers.”
He lifted his chin. “I wasn’t scared of the plane.”
“Oh?”
“No. I was…” He stopped abruptly, the rest of the sentence hovering between them like static.
Her eyebrows lifted. “You were…?”
He cleared his throat hard. “Never mind.”
But she knew. She knew . He wasn’t scared of the seaplane. He was scared of feeling something he hadn’t planned for.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Milo Keene liked to be in control of everything he did, and this was something so far out of his control that he didn’t know how to save face.
Fine. She wasn’t going to push. It was late and she was ready to go home.
After shutting everything down, she rose and slowly made her way to the door and opened it for them. The warm night air, along with the sound of crickets and other assorted wildlife, greeted her. Milo was close enough behind her that she knew he was eager to be back on the ground.
Hopping out onto the dock, she offered him her hand, mostly to test him. He looked at it for one long second before taking it carefully—like she was the fragile one and he was afraid he’d hold on too tight.
But when he stepped out onto the dock beside her, he still didn’t let go. Not that she cared. He probably just needed a few minutes to unclench.
“So,” she said, smirking up at him. “Ready for your second flight?”
His eyes widened—not in a terrified way, but something dangerously close to intrigued.
“Ask me again,” he murmured, “after I recover from this one.”
“Oh, trust me.” She squeezed his hand before letting go. “I fully intend to.”
“Wh…why?” he asked.
Shrugging, she started walking, knowing he was going to follow. “Because the next time you’ll probably want to bring a camera or a notebook or whatever it is you need to take notes. I mean…that was the reason for the flight, right? Research?”
“Oh, uh…yeah. Right. I guess I should have thought of that.” He fell in step beside her.
“You probably should have thought more about that than what you were going to wear,” she teased and playfully nudged his shoulder. And before she knew it—and it all seemed to happen in slow motion—he tripped, stumbled, and then promptly fell right into the lake.
Oh, crap!
“Milo!” she cried, already on her knees on the dock, holding out her hand to him. The water was obviously shallow, but she had no idea if he landed awkwardly or on a rock or…
He surfaced, shaking off like a wet dog before focusing on her.
Furiously focusing on her.
Don’t laugh…don’t laugh…don’t laugh…
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” she asked, still waiting for him to take her hand.
“What is it with you and water, huh? First the drone, then the whole jet ski thing, and now this!” Muttering a curse, he reluctantly took her hand as he awkwardly climbed up onto the dock. When he stood up, he reached into his pocket and cursed again.
“What…?”
He pulled his phone out and held it up to her.
Cracked screen, dripping water.
Shit.
“Any chance you were due for a new one?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
“No! Just like I wasn’t due for a new drone! What the hell, Nora?” And without another word, he stormed off.
She knew she was going to chase after him, but she needed to get her own anger in check first. The drone was—sadly—a mistake.
She’d acted rashly, but still on her gut instinct.
The jet ski was just her being a smartass.
But this? This was a legit accident. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t handle walking like a grown-ass adult.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t going to win her any points. She had no doubt that he was going to tell Slater that she purposely knocked him into the lake, and she would be kissing her job goodbye.
“No. Absolutely not. That can’t happen.” Jogging after him, she caught up and stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his path.
The look of surprise barely lasted a second before the fury returned. “Move.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Look, I’m sorry that you fell, but that wasn’t my fault.”
His dark eyes went wide. “How was it not your fault? You shoved me!”
“Again, no. I playfully nudged you, and you lost your balance. Trust me, if I had shoved you, you would know it.”
“But I do know it! That’s how I ended up in the lake!”
The man was infuriating. “Look, you were clearly still wobbly from the flight. That’s not my fault. We were just having a normal conversation and I barely touched you.” She raised her hand to show him just how lightly she had nudged him, and she swore he flinched.
Ugh…I am so fired.
“C’mon, Milo. Isn’t there just the tiniest chance that you lost your footing because you weren’t…you know…steady on your feet after the flight?”
No answer, just that hard glare.
“So that’s it? You’re just not even going to talk to me? You’re only going to see this from your point of view and not even consider mine?”
Nothing.
And because keeping her mouth shut was apparently her least favorite thing to do, she added, “And now I guess you’re going to run and tattle on me to Slater, right?
You’ll tell him your side of the story when I’m not around and tell him to fire me.
Well, you know what? That’s bullshit. At least have the decency to be a man and tell me off to my face. ”
Milo’s jaw ticked and she honestly thought he was going to continue to ignore her.
But he didn’t.
“Fine. You want me to talk? Here it is,” he began through clenched teeth.
“You’re infuriating. You’re so busy walking around like you’re some freaking queen bee around here—some know it all, thinks she’s better than everyone, popular girl, homecoming queen, mean girl—and I don’t like it!
Women like you think you’re smarter than everyone.
Well, let me tell you something, Nora, you’re not.
I may not know how to fly a plane, but I can configure the entire computer system that makes one fly if I had to.
I may not know the latest fashion trends, but I can build the computers and the systems that manufacture them.
So go ahead and judge. Make fun of the nerdy guy.
You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. But don’t stand here and expect me to keep you out of trouble by batting those big brown eyes at me, because it won’t work.
Trust me. I learned that a long time ago. ”
She was too stunned to utter a single word.
There were a lot of things to unpack from that little speech, and by the time she was ready to respond, he had already stormed off, leaving her a little dazed and confused.
And a lot more interested in what made Milo Keene tick.