Page 29 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

DALTON

I sat at my usual spot at the far end of the table, nursing my coffee and trying to focus on the scrambled eggs on my plate instead of the blonde sitting three seats down. Janna was laughing at something Pickle said. The sound made my chest tighten and my cock twitch.

Don’t look. Don’t fucking look.

I took another bite of eggs and forced myself to tune into Wild Bill’s story about some rescue mission from last season.

But even as I nodded at the appropriate moments, my peripheral vision kept drifting to her.

She’d pulled her hair up in a messy bun.

I could see the curve of her neck where I’d kissed her yesterday.

Where I’d left a mark that was probably still there under her collar.

“Earth to Dalton,” Gilbert said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You even listening?”

“Yeah,” I lied, taking another sip of coffee. “Rescue mission. Got it.”

Across the table, Janna caught my eye for a split second.

The look she gave me was casual like she was looking at any of the other guys at the table.

Just like we’d agreed. But I could see the heat underneath, the memory of yesterday afternoon flickering in those blue eyes before she looked away.

I knew that look. It was her “fuck me” look.

When she wanted me inside her she would look at me just like that.

Fuck. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“So anyway,” Wild Bill continued with the story I was pretty sure I had heard before.

“More coffee, Dalton?” Janna’s voice cut through the story as she stood up with the pot in her hand.

She was making rounds, topping off everyone’s cups.

Normal. Casual. Nothing to see here. I hadn’t even noticed her get up from her spot at the table.

I had been so focused on ignoring her. And it worked.

And then she was there, with that citrus scent that had me craving oranges.

“Sure,” I said, pushing my mug toward her.

Our fingers brushed as she took it. I felt that familiar jolt of electricity.

She felt it too. I could tell by the way her breath caught, just barely.

It was foreplay, I decided. The secrecy.

Stolen looks. Soft touches. It was all foreplay.

I just hoped the next time I got the chance to fuck her, I was able to get my fucking pants off. Yesterday we had been like teenagers.

She filled my cup and moved on to the next person like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been bent over her bed twenty-four hours ago, crying my name into the mattress.

I watched her move around the table, playing the perfect teammate. Smiling at everyone’s jokes, asking Cheryl about her weekend plans, listening to Tyson complain about his ex-wife. She fit in so easily, like she’d been part of this crew for years instead of weeks.

That should have made me happy. Instead, it made something dark and possessive twist in my gut. I wanted to be the one making her laugh. I wanted her attention focused on me, not scattered across the room like fucking sunshine.

Shit, I was losing it. I was the one who pushed her away. It had been the right thing to do, but the rightness of it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“You okay, man?” Pickle asked, leaning closer. “You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

I forced my expression to relax. “Just tired. I never sleep well when I’m here.”

And that was true. But I wasn’t going to tell him that the main reason I couldn’t sleep was because she was a few doors down and I couldn’t have her.

I thought about her in her bed. My mind had drifted from ways I could break in and climb into her bed without Laser knowing, to what she was wearing.

Did she sleep naked? Or would she wear one of those little thongs I kept tearing off her?

“Yeah, well, get some rest while you can. Weather is supposed to get rough the next couple of days.”

I nodded. “Great.”

“All crew to the briefing room,” Chief said as he strolled in.

I pushed back from the table and carried my mug to the sink. Chairs scraped against the floor as people abandoned whatever they were doing and headed down the hall to the briefing room.

The briefing room filled quickly. I took my usual spot near the back, arms crossed, watching as Chief waited for the last stragglers to file in. Janna slipped in just before he started talking. She found a seat near the front, close to Laser.

“Alright, listen up,” Chief said. “I just got off the phone with dispatch. We’ve got a high-pressure system moving in from the west, and it’s going to collide with the low-pressure system that’s been sitting over the mountains.”

He gestured to the weather map he’d pinned up next to the fire maps. “What that means for us is dry lightning, erratic winds, and probably multiple starts all at once. Could be tonight, could be tomorrow morning. But when it hits, it’s going to hit hard.”

Everyone in the room was quiet. It was the familiar tension.

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

I didn’t think anyone was breathing. Dry lightning was a nightmare scenario—all the electrical activity that could spark fires, none of the rain that might put them out.

And erratic winds meant unpredictable flight conditions, dangerous drops, and fires that could change direction without warning.

And my first thought was for Janna’s safety. I pushed it away. I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about her. That had been the whole point of cutting off any emotional entanglements with her. It was impossible to do my job well if my only concern was Janna.

“For now, we wait,” Chief continued. “But I want everyone on standby. No one leaves the base. No alcohol. Get some rest if you can but be ready to move at a moment’s notice. When this storm hits, we’re going to be busy.”

Gilbert raised his hand. “What’s the timeline looking like?”

“Meteorology says sometime between midnight and dawn. But you know how reliable weather forecasts are in the mountains.” Chief’s expression was grim. “Could be sooner, could be later. Might blow on by. Point is, we’re on high alert.”

I glanced around the room, taking in the faces of my crew. Some looked eager, the adrenaline junkies who lived for nights like this. Others looked appropriately concerned. Janna’s face was unreadable, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Any questions?” Chief asked.

Silence.

“Good. Dismissed. And remember—no one leaves the base.”

As people started to file out, I caught Janna’s eye. She gave me the slightest nod. I knew we were both thinking about the conversation where I’d told her we couldn’t be more than lovers. Did she care about me? She didn’t say it, but I felt it.

Janna disappeared and I was left standing there thinking about how I was going to pass the day without being around her.

Or thinking about her. It felt like we were trapped in a box.

Yes, the complex was huge, and we wouldn’t have to be in the same area, but it just felt so incredibly difficult to be around her but not be near her.

I decided to head out to check on my plane. It was running fine but there was always something to tinker with. As soon as I walked into the hangar, the cat was there. I groaned. I thought it had moved along when I didn’t see it yesterday.

It was lying in a corner and somehow seemed to sense when I walked in. It got up, stretched, and sauntered over. The damn thing was intent on embarrassing me. People were going to start thinking I was soft.

“Max,” I muttered when the cat rubbed its body across my leg. Max was what Janna called the damn thing.

“Thought it wasn’t your cat,” Pickle said as he walked in behind me.

“It’s not.”

“It looks better,” he said. “What did you name him?”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar.” He chuckled.

I sighed. “Janna calls him Max.”

He chuckled. “Well, Max looks like he’s finally getting some real meals.”

“It’s not me,” I said. “I mean, not only me.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You ever date someone you worked with?” he asked casually.

Guilt ran through me. But I wasn’t about to admit to anything. He couldn’t know. Janna wouldn’t tell him. We agreed to keep it our secret.

I forced a laugh. “That’s a weird question.”

Pickle shrugged, hands stuffed in pockets. I noticed his gaze going out the hangar doors. I followed his gaze, and fuck me, Laser and Janna had dragged over some chairs and were both dressed in shorts and tanks. Their legs were stretched out and their heads were back with sunglasses on.

I tensed.

A pang of something—jealousy, protectiveness—spiked through me. It felt like a test, and I did not fail. I was the one who had insisted on keeping things casual. Did that mean she might fuck other people? Because I wouldn’t allow it.

Fuck that.

I swallowed and forced the words out. “I don’t know if you’re Janna’s type.”

Pickle cocked his head. “No shit. I’m talking about Laser.”

I froze. “Oh, you’re ready to admit it now?”

“I know she just ended things with Wild Bill, but what do you think?”

I felt my jealousy drop. My reaction said all I needed to know about what happened. Was it possible to keep the situation with Janna from getting serious? Was it already too late?

I already knew the answer to that. I was so screwed.

But I brought myself back to the moment. To Pickle’s situation. I was happy to talk about him rather than me.

I shook my head. “You’re asking the wrong guy for dating advice.”

Pickle raised an eyebrow. “Come on, man. You must have some thoughts.”

“Look,” I said, running a hand through my hair, and tried to collect my thoughts.

Once again, thinking about Janna had thrown me off my game.

“I keep things simple. No attachments, nothing to hold me back. It’s easier that way.

” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, especially after what had happened with Janna yesterday.

“But it’s not a life I’d necessarily encourage. We all have to walk our own path.”

He studied my face for a moment. “That sounds lonely as hell.”

“Maybe. But it’s safe. No one gets hurt.”

“Including you?”

I didn’t answer that. Couldn’t answer that.

Because the truth was, I was already hurt.

Had been since the moment Janna walked into my life and turned everything upside down.

The casual thing we’d agreed to? It was bullshit.

I was in deeper than I’d ever intended to get, and the thought of her with someone else made me want to put my fist through a wall.

“Laser’s a good woman,” I said finally, deflecting back to his situation. “But she’s got her guard up after Wild Bill. You’d have to be patient.”

“Patient I can do.”

I glanced back toward where the women were sunbathing. Janna had shifted in her chair. She’d pulled up her tank top to expose her stomach.

“You and Janna seem pretty friendly,” Pickle said casually.

My jaw tightened. “We’re not friendly. She’s part of the crew.”

“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying it. “You two were having quite the intense conversation yesterday after she landed. Looked like more than just pilot talk.”

“Mind your own business, Pickle.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax, man. I’m just saying, for someone who keeps things simple and avoids attachments, you sure do watch her a lot.”

“I don’t watch her.” The lie came out too fast, too defensive.

“Right. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that you happened to break protocol yesterday when she was in trouble.”

I turned to face him fully, my hands clenching into fists. “Drop it.”

“Or what? You’ll glare at me to death?” Pickle laughed, completely unfazed by my intimidation tactics. “Come on, Dalton. We’ve all seen how you look at her. Like she’s the only person in the room.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I? Because yesterday when she was getting tossed around by those thermals, you did something you’ve never done before. And don’t even get me started on how you rushed to her defense when Chief was questioning her performance. I think you might want to reconsider your motto.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think you might want to mind your own fucking business.”