Page 15 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

DALTON

“ S he did well,” Pickle said. “Admit it.”

I grunted, not ready to give him the satisfaction. “She didn’t crash. That’s a start.”

Pickle laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, man. You know she nailed it. It’s okay to dole out a compliment or two. She spotted a fire.”

“ I spotted it,” I corrected him, though I couldn’t deny she’d been solid up there. More than solid. She’d been damn near flawless. It pissed me off how much I’d been impressed.

Before Pickle could say anything else, Chief walked over, clipboard in hand and a serious look on his face. He nodded at Pickle, who took the hint and wandered off to give us some privacy.

“So?” Chief asked. “How’d she do? Give me your honest opinion.”

I hesitated for a second, then sighed. “She did well.”

Chief raised an eyebrow. “Well? That’s it?”

“Better than well,” I admitted. “She handled the storm like she’s been flying in them her whole life. Kept her cool when we spotted the fire. Followed instructions for the most part and didn’t panic when things got dicey.”

Chief nodded slowly. “You think she’s ready for solo missions?”

“Solo?”

“You know what I mean. Can we send her up as pilot or spotter?”

I took a deep breath. “She’s had one flight.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just a flight.”

I looked around the hangar and didn’t see her.

I needed to debrief with her. We didn’t do a lot of talking up there and she did need to know she did a good job.

It wasn’t about showering her with a bunch of fluffy compliments.

It was about telling her what she did right and what areas she could do better in. And everyone could do better. Even me.

“Where did she go?” I asked.

Chief looked around. “I don’t know. Maybe to get a drink. Hey, what the hell are you doing with a cat?”

“What?”

“I came across some mangy thing and tried to shoo it out but the guys told me it was your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat.” The accusation was worse than accusing me of murder.

“Well, feed it. Take it to the vet. It can’t be living in my hangars. I don’t want it getting in a cockpit. That’s not a surprise anyone needs in the air, finding a confused cat as a copilot.”

I frowned. “I don’t have a cat. I’m not taking anything to the vet, and how in the fuck would a cat get in a cockpit?”

“Because cats are sneaky little bastards,” Chief said. “And if it’s hanging around here, it’s your problem now. You’re the one feeding it.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself.

It wasn’t worth the fight. Besides, the damn cat had been hanging around for weeks, and yeah, I’d been tossing it scraps here and there.

But that didn’t make it my cat. I wasn’t a cat person.

I wasn’t a pet person at all. Animals were messy, needy, and unpredictable.

Three things I didn’t have time for and didn’t want to make the time for.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll deal with it.”

Chief gave me a satisfied nod and walked off, leaving me standing there with a scowl on my face.

I glanced around the hangar again, still looking for Janna.

She’d disappeared after the flight, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

She’d handled herself well up there, but I knew how it felt to come down from that kind of adrenaline high.

It could hit you hard when you least expected it.

I spotted Laser. If anyone knew where Janna was, it would be her.

“Hey,” I said as I caught up to her. “You seen Janna?”

She looked around like she would be able to see her when I couldn’t. “No. I don’t know. Probably in the bathroom or the hall getting something to drink. Red Bull if she’s anything like me. Chamomile if she’s anything like Pickle.”

I smirked. “Yeah. Let’s hope she doesn’t become a caffeine junkie like you.”

I walked away, making my way to the refreshment table along the back wall and grabbed a bottle of water.

I was downing it when I heard a noise. I frowned and started moving in the direction of the noise.

Was it the cat? If it was, which I didn’t even know if it was a boy or girl, I was going to have a conversation with it and let it know it needed to get lost.

I heard the noise again. And it wasn’t a cat.

Crying .

I froze in the hallway. It was a woman crying and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was. It was my missing pilot.

And she was crying. Fuck .

I backed away, immediately regretting my choice to go looking for her.

Emotions. Why did it always have to be emotions?

I could fly through fire, outmaneuver a storm, but a woman crying behind a locked door?

That was some straight-up horror movie shit to me.

A physical shudder ran over my body. Why couldn’t it have been the cat?

I’d prefer to cuddle with that damn thing, fleas and all.

I had two choices: walk away and pretend I hadn’t heard a thing or not be a complete cyborg and give her the reassurance she obviously needed.

“Fuck me,” I groaned.

I went with option two. Mostly because I didn’t know what else to do, I walked back to the refreshment area and snagged a cold bottle of water from the fridge. I sent up a prayer for strength and walked to the bathroom door. I knocked once.

“Occupied,” she called out in a shaky voice.

“It’s me,” I said. “Dalton.”

Silence for a second. Then I heard the lock click. The door opened just enough for me to see her red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. She looked like she’d just left a funeral. There was a part of me that had hoped she was laughing in the bathroom and not crying.

But I was not so lucky.

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I thrust out the bottle of water. She took it with a trembling hand, and then to my horror, she started crying again.

Okay. Definitely not good.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh. I can leave. You look like you might want some privacy.”

She shook her head. That was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. But once again, I was faced with a decision. I could walk away and let her continue crying alone or I could do the normal human thing and sit with her.

Dammit .

I stepped into the ladies’ room, closed the door, and sat my ass down on the cool tile floor beside her. We didn’t talk. Not for a long while. She cried and I stared at the scuffed baseboard and tried not to feel like my skin was inside out. Was I supposed to rub her shoulders?

The cat!

Dammit, if only I had the cat. Women liked petting animals. It was comforting. But the cat wasn’t exactly the comforting type.

Eventually, her breathing slowed. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her flight suit and sniffled. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “No reason to be.”

“I don’t usually... I mean, I do, I just… not in front of people. And not like this.”

“I invaded your space,” I said with a shrug.

She blew out a breath. “Well this is embarrassing.”

“Can I do anything?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Can you help me bake cookies?”

Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t even on the list. I turned to look at her and scowled. I had to have heard her wrong. My mind was running through possible words with a different letter of the alphabet. Bookies? Dookies? Pookies?

I blinked. “What?”

“Cookies. Baking. It always makes me feel better. You don’t have to?—”

I considered my options. She didn’t ask me to hug her or talk, so baking cookies seemed like an easy out.

I stood up and offered her a hand. “Lead the way, Princess.”

She took my hand as I pulled her up. I unlocked the door and dropped her hand. “Maybe you should, uh, you know?—”

I gestured to her face. I didn’t know the tactful way to tell her she looked a mess and everyone was going to know she was crying. She nodded, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her flight suit. “Right. Give me a second.”

I stepped out into the hallway, leaning against the wall while she cleaned herself up.

The last thing I wanted was for anyone to see us coming out of the bathroom together.

That would be a rumor I didn’t need. I could already hear the jokes.

And for me, I’d be fine, but people were dicks to the female half of the equation of these little rumors.

They’d talk shit about her hooking up with me.

They would assume she fell into my bed like so many women did.

Normally, I wouldn’t care. But Janna was different. I didn’t want her to have people talking about her like she was the type to bed hop. She might be, but I didn’t want to be the source of the rumors.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, her face was less puffy, though her eyes were still a little red. She gave me a small, embarrassed smile. “Thanks for… you know.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “Let’s go make cookies.”

We walked to the main hall. The place was mostly empty now with everyone working on their various tasks.

Someone had left music playing low on a speaker near the fridge.

Chief hooked us up with a Spotify account.

There was a TV but no one could ever agree on what to watch.

I flipped to the country station and turned it up a bit.

She slipped her arms out of her sleeves so that her flight suit hung at her waist, revealing the T-shirt underneath.

“Now you’re in my domain,” she said with a smile.

“I’m just here for cookies.”

“You have to help,” she said. “Have you ever baked anything before?”

“No.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, you are mine, mister. You might know your way around in the sky, but I’m the queen of the kitchen.”

“Okay, Princess .”

She bossed me around like a drill sergeant.

I had a feeling she was paying me back for the way I’d been with her throughout training.

Janna did not hesitate to call out every single one of my mistakes.

I measured wrong. Got the eggshell in the bowl.

Tried to lick the spoon and got swatted with a spatula.

“Do not contaminate the dough, Dalton.”

“Aren’t we supposed to taste test the dough?” I asked.

“Technically, no. There are raw eggs in there, which is a salmonella risk.”

I rolled my eyes. “People have been eating cookie dough since the dawn of time.”

“I don’t think people that lived in caves made cookies.” She burst into laughter. “Why do I feel like you and I will always find a way to clash?”

“Because neither one of us likes taking shit from people,” I replied.

“On that, we can agree.”

We made three dozen chocolate chip cookies. She told me something about a secret ingredient that she brought with her from Alaska. Something about real vanilla. I honestly didn’t know the difference but she insisted it was the difference between a basic cookie and one of her cookies.

I checked the time and realized we’d been in the kitchen for a couple of hours. Because I was supposed to be off, I had planned on going back to my cabin, but as detours went, baking with Janna wasn’t so bad.

I ate my second cookie and had to admit they turned out better than I expected.

They were soft, chewy, and just the right amount of sweet.

Maybe it was the vanilla she used or maybe she had infused the treats with her essence, but they were the best damn thing I had ever tasted.

Janna had insisted on packing a few in a Ziplock bag for me to take home, and I didn’t argue.

I wasn’t much of a dessert guy, but these were special.

I drove back to my cabin with the bag of cookies sitting on the passenger seat. After a shower, I made myself a grilled cheese and took the bag of cookies out to the deck.

As I ate, I stared up at the stars, letting my mind wander. It didn’t take long for it to land on Janna. Today had not gone the way I expected. And I certainly never expected to end up baking cookies, but it had been a surprisingly nice time.

Heaven help me, but I had fun with her.