Page 8 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

JANNA

T he bar in Hollow Gorge was exactly the kind of place I’d hoped it would be. It was the kind of place that no one had any expectations. There were no pretenses. People were just there to unwind with greasy food and cold beer.

The walls were covered in vintage beer signs, neon lights, and what looked like decades of local memorabilia.

A few pictures of celebrities that had stopped by the place hung on the wall.

The floor was sticky in places and covered in peanut shells.

Bowls of peanuts sat on every table. I’d been in bars with the whole peanut thing before.

The peanut oil was supposed to be good for the wood floors.

I wasn’t sure if that was true, but if it worked, great.

Pool tables dominated one corner while a jukebox in the opposite corner played rock at just the right volume. It was loud enough to feel the bass in your chest, but not so loud you couldn’t hold a conversation. There was a dart board mounted on the wall near the pool tables.

The bar itself was solid wood in an L shape. Behind it, shelves lined with bottles stretched up to the ceiling. The place smelled like fried food, old cigarettes because that smell never went away, and stale beer.

“This place is perfect,” I said to Laser as we claimed a table near the pool tables.

“Right? It’s got character,” she agreed, signaling the bartender. “And the wings are actually decent.”

The bartender was a man that looked to be in his fifties and had zero cares in the world.

He wore jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. I had a feeling this man was responsible for the Creedence Clearwater pumping out of the jukebox.

And I was willing to bet I would find a lot of classic rock in that jukebox. My dad loved CCR.

A server, a young woman in her twenties with bright red lipstick appeared at our table. She had on a white half apron and tight jeans. “What can I get you ladies?”

“Two beers,” Laser said. “Wings and nachos.”

I arched a brow. Laser looked at me. “Do you want onion rings? They are really good here.”

I shrugged. “Hell, if we’re going in, we may as well go all in.”

Laser flashed a bright smile. “You heard the girl. Onion rings. And extra special sauce.”

“Be back in a few,” the server said.

I looked around the bar and took stock of the people.

The crowd was a mix of locals and what I assumed were other firefighters and pilots from various agencies.

Hollow Gorge was kind of firefighting central.

There were a group of men in the corner wearing yellow shirts and forest green pants.

It was the standard uniform for the wildland firefighters.

A few ranchers sat at the bar in their Wranglers and boots, nursing beers and watching a baseball game on the mounted TV.

The whole place had that comfortable, lived-in feeling that made you want to stay for hours.

I spotted a few guys I remembered seeing at the airfield earlier.

I wondered if there were cliques. Was Laser one of the cool kids?

I had a feeling she was definitely one of the cool kids.

Anyone that looked like her and had that confident air about them had to be cool.

And I got the feeling she was friends with Dalton and he was definitely one of the cool kids.

“Here you go,” the server said. She put two glasses of beer on the table. “Food will be up in five.”

“Thank you,” Laser said. “To surviving your first simulator session with Herc.” She held up her glass.

I laughed and gently clinked my glass against hers. “Barely.”

The first sip hit just right. I was glad my dad had introduced me to beer. Mom liked wine but Dad was all about IPAs and trying all kinds of new beers. I took another drink, licking the foam from my upper lip.

Laser tilted her head, studying me. “So, Janna, what’s your story? You’re what—mid-twenties?”

“Twenty-five,” I said.

“Damn,” she said. “That’s young for this game. Most folks don’t end up flying fires until they’ve been up in the sky a decade or more.”

I shrugged. “I started early.”

“How early?”

“My dad taught me to fly,” I said, smiling at the memory. “I was barely tall enough to reach the rudder pedals. He was a crop duster in the summers, flew utility work in the winters. Thought every kid should know how to handle a Cessna before they got their learner’s permit.”

Laser grinned. “I like your dad already.”

“I logged hours through high school. Got my private license at seventeen. And when I was old enough, I took off for Alaska.”

Laser’s eyes lit up. “Alaska?”

I took another drink before I nodded. “Yep. They are kind of desperate for pilots up there. I thought it would be a great way to log hours. And it’s really pretty country up there.”

“You flew charter up there?” Laser asked.

“Yeah. Floatplanes, ski planes, bush charters, the whole circus. Mostly tourists. Guys with fishing rods and beer guts trying to look rugged. Sometimes I would fly people that needed to get to a hospital.”

“That’s hardcore,” she said, raising her bottle. “Respect.”

“I loved the flying,” I said, leaning back.

“But I wanted more than just carting people around to hunt and fish. I wanted to do something that mattered. This job is exactly the kind of flying I always dreamed of. I’ve always wanted to do something that would help people.

And I’m not going to lie; I like the danger. I’m kind of an adrenaline junkie.”

Laser nodded slowly. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I never would have taken you for a serious pilot. When I first saw you, I thought you were a little…”

“Girly?” I asked. “Prissy?”

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “No offense.”

“No worries,” I said. “It’s my thing. I like people to underestimate me.”

The server returned with a tray piled high with food.

The smell of fried goodness hit me like a delicious wave.

My stomach growled in anticipation as she set down the plates.

I did try and eat clean, but I had a feeling ordering a kale salad in this group would be a disaster.

Not that they would serve something like that here.

I ogled the chicken wings glistening with sauce, a mountain of nachos dripping with cheese and jalapenos, and a basket of onion rings that looked like they’d been fried to perfection. My mouth watered instantly.

“Dig in,” Laser said, already reaching for a wing. “You’ve earned it.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed a wing, the sauce sticky on my fingers, and took a bite. The flavor exploded in my mouth. It was spicy, tangy, and just the right amount of heat. I groaned around the bite, nodding at Laser. “Oh my God, these are amazing.”

She laughed, wiping sauce from her lips with a napkin. “Told you. Best wings in town.”

I reached for an onion ring next, the batter light and crispy. I dipped it into the special sauce. It was basically just mayo and ketchup, but it was amazing. “Okay, this sauce is dangerous,” I said between bites. “I could drink this stuff.”

“Careful,” Laser teased. “You’ll ruin your appetite for the nachos.”

As if that was going to happen. I grabbed a chip loaded with cheese, guacamole, and sour cream, shoving it into my mouth with zero shame.

“Why do I think this is not your normal fare?” Laser asked.

“It’s not that I don’t like this stuff, but no. I do on occasion, but I try to stay healthy.”

“Me too.” Laser shrugged.

Someone cracked the break at a nearby pool table. The cue ball clacked sharply.

I swallowed the bite of nacho. “So what’s Dalton’s deal?”

She smirked. “Ah. We’ve reached that part of the conversation.”

I raised my brows. “What part?”

“The part where you pretend you’re asking about him professionally, but really, you want to know if the broody fire god is single.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “Come on. I just want to know who I’m working with. He’s a hothead. And it’s pretty clear he doesn’t like me.”

Laser took a sip, then sighed like she’d been waiting for this invitation.

“Herc flew for the military,” she said. “Don’t know all the details—he doesn’t talk about it—but he was in some deep stuff. After that, he came home and flew commercial for a while.”

I blinked. “Commercial? With passengers ? Paying passengers?”

“Yep,” she said. “Which blows my mind too, because the man has the social skills of a brick.”

“No kidding.”

“Anyway, he racked up hours, bounced around from airline to airline. And somewhere in there, he managed to sleep with every flight attendant from here to Timbuktu.”

I choked on my beer. “With that personality?”

Laser snorted. “Honey, they weren’t sleeping with him for his sparkling conversation. I heard it was practically a badge of honor. Like an exclusive Dalton Lucas club.”

I shook my head, half-horrified and half-intrigued. “Tough to picture the Dalton I met charming anyone .”

“He wasn’t always such a monster,” she said. “Dalton went through some shit that changed him. But he’s hot , obviously. Even now, that man could scowl his way into anyone’s bed.”

She wasn’t wrong. I tried not to think about the way his eyes had lingered on me in the simulator. Or how good he looked with sweat on his neck and frustration in his jaw. As long as he kept his mouth shut, a night with him would be one to remember.

“Have you…?” I asked. It was probably a little bold to ask, but I was dying to know.

“Hell no,” she said with a snort. “That is too much anger for me. I think we’d probably kill each other before we ever got to the good part.”

I felt a strange sense of relief. “If he flew commercial, how did he end up here?”

Laser leaned back, looking very at ease. “A few years back, he started working fire contracts in the summers. He was a wildland firefighter for one season and then a smokejumper. I think he was looking for the next big thrill. Then he started flying full time for Reddington.”

“Commercial pilots make good money,” I commented.

“Yeah, but not nearly as fun.”

“Good point.” I reached for another onion ring.

“Herc and I started together,” she said. “The job took its toll on him. He saw things out there. Let’s just say, he used to smile more.”

That hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It did make me feel a little bad for my behavior earlier today. I understood why he was so damn serious about perfection.

“Does he always put the newbies through the simulator like that?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “They usually keep him away from the fresh meat. Don’t want to scare them away.”

Laser looked over my shoulder and her expression twisted into a slow, mischievous smile.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “Speak of the devil.”

I turned. And there he was.

Dalton stepped through the bar’s front door, and it was like everything stopped. My pulse kicked up at just the sight of him. I didn’t miss the way the energy shifted in the bar. The man obviously had a reputation. Was he here to pick up a woman for the night?

Oh my god. Why was I always thinking about sex? I wasn’t usually quite so horny. If I didn’t take the edge off somehow, I was going to do something really stupid.