CHAPTER 3 #2
He chuckled, clearly amused by the shocked expression Jannie couldn’t hide. This gorgeous man, whose looks and presence could instantly ensnare any woman, was Nicholas Kent?
She remembered the tall, thin boy with braces and a face perpetually full of painful-looking acne. The guys called him Pustule. To his face. The girls wrinkled their noses and sidestepped him in the hallways, snickering and rolling their eyes behind his scrawny back.
Studious, quiet, and with impeccable manners, he had held doors for her, smiled, and said hello.
He made pocket money by tutoring and seemed to have all the answers in class, another reason the jocks had it in for him.
Nick absorbed knowledge like a sponge. What was difficult for others was effortless for him, undoubtedly making the guys feel intellectually inferior.
“Wow,” she said. What she really wanted to say was, “Damn.”
His lips twitched. Wordlessly, he motioned toward the seat across from hers.
Jannie smiled. “Have a seat.”
He lowered himself into the armchair with a fluid grace she didn’t remember him possessing. Of course, given his current fitness level, there was something to be said for muscular control.
“I look a little different from the last time you saw me.”
Understatement of the century. “What have you—”
His phone buzzed, and he hesitated for a second, then picked it up with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me. I have to answer this text.”
Jannie nodded. She relaxed but only a little. Her eyes refused to leave his large hands as his fingers flew over the screen. Long fingers, nails clipped so short they showed no white at all. Certain parts of her began to tingle. She had a thing for hands, and his were …
A server appeared, and Jannie asked for a refill of her ice water, which she thought she might have to dump all over herself.
“And for you, sir? Anything to drink?” the young woman asked.
Nick held up one long finger and finished typing before turning the full force of his dark-eyed stare on her. “Water for me, too. And a cup of coffee, black. Thanks.”
The server gulped and licked her lips. “Yes, sir.”
Flushing, she hurried away, casting him a furtive glance over her shoulder.
She feels it too.
Jannie didn’t blame the girl; Nick radiated power and the promise of raw jungle sex.
Given her situation, Jannie shouldn’t have been panting like a horny teenager.
But pregnancy, for her, had resulted in a sky-high sex drive; being riled up by Blake, plus hormones, plus this man, stoked a fire that quickly approached five-alarm.
Unreal. If she could time-travel and tell her high school self just who was causing her to go into lustful tachycardia, tween Jannie Larssen would bust a gut laughing.
No sooner had Nick finished texting than his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. Annoyance filled his face, and he surged to his feet. “Excuse me. Again.”
“Of course.” Jannie watched him head in long-legged strides toward a less crowded spot by the floor-to-ceiling window. Broad back tapering to narrow hips, and a delectable, muscular ass.
He half-turned. She could practically see the energy radiating from him as he glowered, extremely displeased with whoever had called. Sunlight streamed in, highlighting copper in his dark hair.
The image of young Nick, as he was then, persisted as Jannie observed him in fascination. He would sit in the back corner with a little smirk on his lips as if high school were a joke, and he was only there to observe everyone else’s struggles.
Maybe he was. He was the first to finish tests and sit there.
She, however, was the second, and sometimes they’d exchange self-satisfied glances as the rest of the class feverishly worked to finish what they’d completed in half the time.
During their brief encounters in the hallway, he’d spoken shyly, always about school.
Damn. She shook her head.
Nicholas Kent.
She still couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea that this was him. She also couldn’t believe her reaction to him, considering that just half an hour ago, she was agonizing over finally losing Blake.
The truth was, she’d lost her husband long ago. Perhaps reconnecting with Nick Kent from high school was what she needed right now.
Another server bustled over with a tray, placing a cup of coffee and a second glass on the table. “More water?” He lifted a carafe.
“Yes, please.”
The young man nodded politely as he filled both glasses, then picked up Jannie’s empty plate and crumpled napkin. “What else can I get for you?”
Jannie smiled at him. “I’ll let you know. Leave the water, please.”
Nick soon returned, all easy confidence and raw masculinity as he settled himself in his armchair. With his jaw clenched and those dark eyes sparking annoyance, he really was quite a sight.
“My apologies,” he said.
“No worries.”
“Nothing is going right for me today.” He smiled a little. “But I have a feeling that’s about to change.”
He placed the phone face down on the table, turned to give her his full attention, and Jannie felt another little thrill. She wondered what he looked like beneath that beard. Had he grown it to hide residual acne scars?
“Well, hello again, Jannie Larssen.” He flashed her a devastating grin.
Perfect white teeth. Those braces worked wonders.
“Fancy meeting you here. What has it been, fifteen years?”
“Something like that.” She brimmed with curiosity about what he’d been doing all this time. “What brings you to Las Vegas?”
“Work. You?”
“Same.”
For a few long moments, she stared, and his eyes sparkled as she unabashedly ogled him.
Jannie cleared her throat. “I’m going to address this right now. You look good.”
He chuckled, a deep rumble that went straight to her core.
“It took a little work.” His eyes held hers. “You look good too. But then again, you always did.”
His voice, along with the intensity of his gaze, warmed her from head to toe.
Jannie picked up her glass and took a long sip, sorely wishing it were a mai tai. “Thank you.”
His gaze drifted from her face to her breasts, then flicked to her belly, pausing there a moment before moving to her bare left hand.
Something nearly predatory flashed in his dark eyes. “Are you here for the ACOG convention?”
She blinked. “How did you know?”
“You said you were going to be an obstetrician. I had no doubt you’d follow through.”
Well, that was something. “Really?”
“Really.” He sipped his coffee, his gaze moving to her left hand again.
She read the question in his expression and rubbed her thumb over the underside of her bare ring finger.
Might as well satisfy his curiosity. “I’m divorced.”
Other than a barely there smile, he didn’t react. “How long have you been divorced?”
She shifted under his intense scrutiny. “A little over a year.”
One dark eyebrow lifted a bit.
“What about you?” she quickly asked.
“Me?” He gave her a half-smile, then shook his head. “Never married.”
Interesting. “Kids?”
He laughed. “No.”
“Well, you never know these days.”
“I’m still a traditionalist in that regard, I guess.” His thumb was moving back and forth over the lip of his glass, making Jannie press her knees together.
Oh, he noticed. His gaze dipped down, then flicked back up. “Do you have any?”
“Kids?” She smiled. “Just these two.”
“Ah.”
She was so uncomfortable with this topic. “So, what are you doing in Vegas?”
He set the glass down. “I flew some corporate guys in for a big meeting. They’re thinking of relocating their company here.”
“You flew in for a meeting?”
“I flew them in for a meeting.” He smiled. “I’m a pilot.”
Her eyes widened. “Who do you fly for?”
“I’m corporate.”
“Charter?”
“No. Private.”
She studied him for a moment. His lashes lowered as he looked down at his hands. Jannie looked, too, and pictured them gripping the yoke in a cockpit.
She’d never found that hot. Flying was what her family had done for generations. No big deal. But him doing it …
Jannie sat there, unable to contain her shock or stop herself from checking out his forearms.
“A pilot. Really?” she finally said.
He picked up the carafe, the ice clinking as he refilled his glass. “Why so surprised?”
“I thought you wanted to be an astronomer.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“You were always studying stars and planets.”
“You’re right. I was. I’m surprised you remember.” He tipped the glass of water, drank it all, and sucked a piece of ice into his mouth.
“How could I forget?” She watched him chew his ice. “Every time you finished a test early, you pulled out one of your astronomy books and buried your nose in it.”
“Yeah.” His teeth grazed his bottom lip. “Well, now the sky is my workplace.”
He raised his coffee cup to his lips. She shifted in her seat.
His biceps bulged in that pristine short-sleeved white shirt, perfectly pressed and starched. He wore no tie or epaulets, but she realized the pants and shoes were standard pilot uniform: navy trousers and black oxfords. His open collar revealed a throat she wanted to test with her tongue.
Heat flickered in his eyes under her shameless perusal, a corner of his mouth lifting in a semblance of the shy smile she used to know.
It finally sank in. Nick, full name Nicholas Sebastian Kent, was a pilot.
A hot pilot. God knew there were very few of those.
Wearing … was that an Apple Watch? She couldn’t hold back a little laugh.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“That mini-iPad strapped to your wrist.”
He glanced at it, lifting and turning his wrist to give her a better view, flexing his forearm as he did it. “I’ll have you know this is the Ultra 2. Capable of giving an accurate EKG.”
Good thing it couldn’t read her heart’s current electrical activity.
“I use it to track my workouts.”
“You work out often?”
“I do. Maintaining a regimen became easier once I could bring in another pilot to cover some of the flights.”
“How big is your company’s fleet?”
“Not that big. Two CJ4s.”
Her brother Adam had three of them. “Nice.”
“It is.” He grinned. “The company owners sell them as soon as they reach a certain number of hours, so I often get to fly new planes.”