Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Ben
Five Years Ago
Four hours into our flight, the captain broke the news: this plane was not making it to LA. Something mechanical was going wrong, but we were too far from Auckland to turn back, so we’d be dumping fuel and landing in a place called Pago Pago.
Cute name. Probably a cool place. But really?
I didn’t mind traveling. I did a lot of it. But when I wanted to go home, I really wanted to go home. I’d been gone a month. I longed for my bed, my brothers, my regularly scheduled programming.
I looked over at the woman curled up beside me. Mazzy. She hadn’t stirred during the captain’s announcement or at the flight attendants buzzing around the cabin. She’d passed out as soon as we were in the air, before her seat could be turned into a bed, and hadn’t moved an inch.
I was tempted to poke her, wake her up, get her to talk to me again.
As sad as her pretty eyes were, she was fun.
I liked the way her thoughts tumbled out of her, one after the other.
It made me wonder if it was a product of her delirium or she was always like that.
I kinda hoped for the latter. Shy people were cool.
I liked them well enough. Extroverts who could chat with anyone, however?
They were my jam. I could make convo with a brick wall, so not many things excited me more than someone who could give as good as they got.
When we began to descend and Mazzy was still knocked out cold, I made my decision. Reaching through the opening between our seats, I gave her shoulder a shake.
“Mazzy,” I called. “Come on, Mazz. Wake-up time. Things are happening you might wanna know about.”
Finally, her eyes began to flutter, and she let out an adorable, disgruntled sound that made something deep in my gut stir.
I couldn’t say buying her ticket had been entirely altruistic—not when I’d requested she be seated beside me. Sure, I’d felt sorry for her, but even before I’d overheard what her ex had done, I’d noticed her.
It had started with her hair, long and kind of curly all the way down her back.
The unforgiving airport lights had glinted off the mahogany strands like they were made of glass.
Then she’d turned her head, giving me her profile.
Ski-slope nose dusted in freckles, wide eyes a little too big for her small, round face, a stubborn chin, pink, puffy lips.
In an oversized hoodie and leggings, it wasn’t like I was some perv checking out a sad woman’s body. Not that I wouldn’t have. I wasn’t above that or anything. And I could see enough of her to surmise she was petite and full figured.
I hadn’t been expecting anything from her. I’d thought I might enjoy getting a better look at her during the flight, and the conversation we’d carried on earlier had been a bonus for my good deed.
But the idiom was true. No good deed went unpunished. I got this pretty, sad girl on this flight, and we were going down.
Not crashing, but a detour in American Samoa surely hadn’t been on my schedule.
Her forehead crinkled as she opened her eyes, which searched blankly around the cabin before she slipped her wire-framed glasses on, bringing them into focus.
“Are we here?” she croaked.
“They’re diverting us. Some kind of mechanical issue.”
That woke her up. “Are you kidding? We’re…are we crashing?”
“No, not crashing.” I reached over the divider, offering her my hand. She slipped hers into it with very little hesitation. “We’re landing in Pago Pago, American Samoa.”
Air burst from between her sleep-swollen lips. “Oh my god. We…I…what?”
“It sucks, but it’s going to be fine, Mazz. They’ll put us up in a hotel, get us a new plane, and we’ll be back in the air tomorrow.” I canted toward her. “Would you rather spend one night in Pago Pago with a bunch of strangers or be crammed in economy between your ex and his ex?”
She gave me a long, startled look before a shudder ran through her. “You’re evil, Ben.”
I winked, proud of myself for bringing her out of her brief panic before it spiraled. “Pago Pago for the win, am I right?”
Somehow, Mazzy and I had wound up at the back of the line of passengers getting hotels.
The airport hotel was filled, as were the nicer resorts.
I wasn’t a snob, but the bare-bones lodge we’d ended up in definitely left something to be desired.
The sheets were scratchy, the shower had mildew, and the ceiling fan rattled every time it turned, stirring up air as heavy as soup.
I was also pretty sure the walls had been built with matchsticks and tissue paper.
Still, we’d be here twelve hours, max. There was a beach, a bar, and the warm breeze carried the smell of pineapples and sunscreen. If I had to not crash-land on a remote island, this wasn’t so bad.
The lodge bar was open-air, lit with strings of mismatched bulbs, and the sound of waves crashing down the hill made everything feel strangely peaceful.
I was halfway through my first drink when Mazzy reappeared.
Luckily, I’d already been looking her way since the little imp seemed like she wasn’t planning on sitting beside me.
As fucking if.
I waved her over. Vigorously. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she smiled at her feet, then wove around the rattan chairs and glass-top tables, taking her sweet time. And that was all right with me. It gave me the chance to get a good look at her.
She’d changed out of her oversized hoodie into a tropical sundress, and it was a revelation.
I sat up straighter, trying not to look like a knuckle-dragging creep even while being a creep, checking out her cleavage, the way her dress bounced over her round hips, the hemline skimming the middle of her thick thighs.
Holy moly, Mazzy was stacked. Her ex was a complete idiot—and not just because she was hot. She had the personality to back it up.
Damn.
“I like your dress,” I said. “You look like a vacation.”
She stopped in her tracks, her toes curling in her flip-flops. “Oh, this old thing?” Then she laughed, the sound carried away in the breeze. “I bought it for the trip, but since that didn’t happen…I figured I might as well get some use out of it. I certainly won’t be wearing it when I get home.”
“Lucky me, I get to see its debut.” I tipped my head toward the bartender, who was shaking something frothy and bright. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yes. Absolutely. That’s the only way I’m going to get through this without sobbing my eyes out.”
Mazzy jumped up on the stool beside me, and I tried my hardest not to notice the bounce and sway of her breasts. I failed for sure, but I did try, and that needed to be noted.
“There’s no crying in Pago Pago.”
She smiled at me, blinking back tears. “If it read the text messages I had, I think Pago Pago might forgive me.”
“That brutal?”
A shiver ran through her. “So bad. I don’t understand it—how a person can be so deceptive. I—” She swallowed hard. “I let him convince me to fall in love with him, and he never stopped having sex with his ex-girlfriend. For a whole year.”
I blew out a heavy breath. I wasn’t a relationship guy, but cheating? That was a bridge I didn’t even know how to get to, let alone cross.
“That sucks hard. I wish I had some words of wisdom for you, but all I can say is that guy clearly never deserved you.”
She huffed, her shoulders curling forward. “I never saw it coming.”
“Guess you’ll be on the lookout next time.”
She’d probably look back on this guy as a marker of when she’d become more cynical.
Everyone had at least one. My first was when my mom abandoned me and my brothers—a big reason I wasn’t interested in settling down.
I was self-aware enough to recognize that.
I saw no reason to put myself in a position of being left behind again.
Hopefully this bright, shiny girl wouldn’t go my route.
A splash of cynicism was good. When it became a flash flood, the danger started.
“Yeah…” Her nose crinkled. “Thank you for making my misadventure bearable, Ben. I’m really glad I don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Me too.” I threw back the rest of my drink and plunked the empty glass down on the bar. I flagged the bartender down, ordering us both shots and another round of the island concoction that was already going to my head. They’d put a little umbrella in it, and I was all about it.
“If you weren’t here, who knows what kind of trouble I’d be getting into.”
“Are you known for troublemaking?”
“You have no idea.” I shot her a conspiratorial grin. “I’m kind of a bad boy.”
She burst out laughing. “I don’t believe that. Not even a little bit. You’re a total Boy Scout.”
“Ha!” I scoffed, picking up a shot glass set in front of us. “Get a few of these in me, and you’ll be singing a different tune.”
She picked up her own shot glass. “I’ll need quite a few of these before I start singing.”
I clinked my glass to hers. “Challenge accepted, Mazzy Belle.”
All it took was two shots and one and a half blue coconut drinks for Mazzy’s cheeks to flush and her tongue to get loose. Well…looser. She didn’t strike me as a woman who had trouble letting her thoughts out.
“How are you so rich?”
“You know the dead dad I mentioned?” She nodded, her head a little bobbly.
“He left me a lot of money, and I handed it all over to my brother, Roman. Otherwise, I would have blown it on Legos or something else fun but ultimately stupid. Technically, I’m a silent partner in his company, but basically, I’m just the moneybags. ”
Her nose scrunched. “Was it rude of me to ask that?”
“I mean, yeah, probably.” I drew my finger down her nose, smoothing it out. “But I don’t really care. I’m an open book.”
“Okay, Open Book, do you have an actual job?”
“I do.” I moved to put my elbow on the bar, and it took three attempts to land. Then I leaned back, allowing her a good look at me. “Tell me what you think I do for a living.”
“Mortician,” she deadpanned.
“Nope. Close though.” She couldn’t have been more off, but she was cute, and I wanted to keep her spirits up.
“You missed your calling. If I were going to bury a loved one, you being the one there to comfort me would definitely help the process.”
“Aw, would you want a hug?”
This time, her forehead did the crinkling as her brows rose. “Are you offering?”
“Always. I love hugs.” I spread my arms wide. “Get in here.”
She leaned forward, promptly falling off her stool. I tried to catch her, but she was too fast—or I was too slow. One second, I was bracing for a hug, and the next, she’d vanished.
I found her on the sandy ground by following her ringing giggle. “You let me fall,” she accused, absolutely no heat behind her words.
As carefully as I could, I got to my feet, putting my hands on my hips. She was way down there, all the way on the floor, her legs sprawled, her dress riding up dangerously high. She didn’t seem to care, but I did. Her inner thighs looked like a pool of cream, delicious to lap right up.
“You leaped to your death,” I said. “Was that smart?”
“I was promised a hug. There isn’t much I won’t do for a quality hug.” She raised her arms and wiggled her fingers. “Do you think you could scoop me off the ground before I start to sober up and get embarrassed?”
I had to crouch to reach her, and since neither of us was steady, it took more effort than it should have to get her to her feet.
There was a lot of grappling and near disaster, but eventually, I had her in my arms. Her head reached the center of my chest, and when she nestled against me, it felt strangely right.
I wrapped my arms around her, cupping her lower back and the crown of her head.
“How’s this?”
“Comfy.” She sighed, rubbing her cheek against me.
I laughed. “I mean, do you still think I’d make a good mortician?”
“Hmmm…” She pressed her fingers along my spine then brought her hand around to my abdomen, prodding me like a piece of meat. “You’re awfully muscle-y. I’m beginning to think my first guess was incorrect. Though you are extremely good at hugging.”
“You’re pretty good at hugging too, for a shortcake.”
“Ben!” she huffed. “It’s rude to bring up someone’s diminutive stature. Especially when you’re abnormally tall.”
“I think it’s kinda rude to call someone abnormally anything, Mazzy-mazz.”
She tipped her head back, her eyes narrowed, bouncing between mine.
When she was satisfied with what she saw, she nodded once.
“Oh, yes. I think we’ve established I’m rude, and in these tough times, I’m okay with that.
My manners are usually more on point when I’m not so pissed off and sad, not to mention the crash landing I went through. ”
“We didn’t crash land.”
She stomped on my foot. Whether her aim was off and she’d meant to hit the ground, I couldn't say. Either way, it didn’t hurt.
“Let me be dramatic, Benny.” She gave me a little shove, then clung to my shirt to keep me close. If she kept doing that, I was going to have to kiss her. There was no two ways about it.
“All right. You can be as dramatic as you like,” I agreed. “But only for tonight.”
“Let’s not talk about what happens when we go home.”
“Good idea.” I slid my fingers down her hair, stopping at the center of her back to pull her closer. “What happens in Pago Pago—”
“Don’t say it,” she snapped. “I’m not drunk enough for that to be charming.”
“—stays in Pago Pago,” I finished.
She frowned.
I grinned.
This was one of my favorite nights ever.