Page 53 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies (Men of Medford #4)

STUCK WITH MY brOTHER’S FIREFIGHTER BESTIES

LILA

“Careful, sweetheart. If you keep gripping that armrest like that, it might take it personally.”

I blinked, startled, and turned to the man sitting next to me.

He was grinning, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and for the first time in what felt like days, I let out a laugh. It wasn’t loud or carefree…it was the kind of laugh that sneaks up on you when you’re caught off guard.

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t realize I was strangling the poor thing.”

He smirked, leaning back in his seat with a casual confidence that seemed completely unearned and yet somehow irresistible. “You seemed deep in thought. Not the good kind, though. You okay?”

I hesitated.

How was I supposed to sum up the flaming disaster that had become my life?

The fact that I’d trusted Rick Vaughn enough to let him sweet-talk me out of my entire life savings—money I’d worked for years to build up, gone in the blink of an eye.

And for what?

The dream of a life he’d promised me. A beautiful house in a city where we could start fresh together. Maybe even kids someday, he’d said, with that charming smile of his.

I should’ve known something was off when I finally boarded a flight to meet him and start our so-called perfect life. I should’ve known from the last-minute texts that seemed rushed, the lack of excitement in his voice when we talked on the phone.

But I’d chalked it up to nerves—mine and his.

The truth was far uglier.

When I landed at the airport, bags in hand, butterflies in my stomach, he wasn’t there. No “welcome to our new life” hug. No reassuring smile.

Just…nothing.

I tried calling him, but my calls went straight to voicemail. Texts went unanswered. My excitement shifted to confusion, and then to full-blown panic. Still clinging to hope, I made my way to the address he’d given me.

But when I finally arrived, I had found an empty, rundown building with no sign of Rick—or anyone else, for that matter.

It was like he’d vanished into thin air.

No, it was worse than that.

He hadn’t just disappeared. He’d robbed me blind and left me stranded. I didn’t even have enough money to rent a hotel room, let alone buy groceries or figure out what to do next.

The worst part wasn’t even the money. It was the shame. The gut-wrenching humiliation that came with realizing I’d let myself believe his lies. That I’d ignored the red flags because I’d wanted so badly for it all to be true.

So, yeah, this was only my second time on a plane.

The first was flying out to meet the man who’d conned me into ruining my life.

And now, here I was, on my way back to Medford, the small town I’d worked so hard to escape.

Flying back with nothing but the clothes in my suitcase and a corgi who deserved a better owner than me.

None of that was exactly small-talk material.

“Just a long week,” I said, brushing it off. “You know how it is.”

He nodded like he actually did.

“Fair enough.” He extended a hand, his smile warm but not too pushy. “Jaxon Reed.”

“Lila,” I said, taking his hand.

His grip was firm, his skin warm against mine, and for some reason, that little connection made the ache in my chest ease ever so slightly.

Jaxon tilted his head, studying me with a look that made me feel like I’d been caught mid-thought. “Lila. Pretty name. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” I shot back, unsure whether to look away or hold his gaze.

His voice had a smoothness to it, like he was used to making people feel special…or at least flustered.

A man that good looking? No doubt about it.

“So,” he said, leaning just slightly toward me, “what’s got you wringing the life out of inanimate objects? Nervous flyer?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly, just…distracted, I guess.”

Distracted wasn’t even close to the right word.

Vulnerable.

That was closer to the truth. Completely exposed and raw, like my skin had been stripped away, and every nerve was on edge. I felt like a walking wound, oozing hurt and humiliation that I was trying to cover with a thin bandage of composure.

I hated it.

“Distracted,” he repeated, like he was testing the word. “Good distracted or bad distracted?”

“Is there even such a thing as good distracted?” I asked, arching a brow.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, his grin widening. “Good distracted is when you’re staring out the window, imagining yourself on some gorgeous beach with a drink in hand. Bad distracted is when you’re trying to figure out how to make your ex disappear without a trace.”

That startled a laugh out of me. Was he reading my mind? His grin turned downright smug.

“Definitely not plotting anyone’s disappearance,” I said abruptly, as much for myself as for him.

“Good to know. I was about to suggest lime pits aren’t as effective as the movies make them seem.”

“Should I be concerned about how much you know about this?” I asked, giving him a sidelong look.

“Only if I start taking notes,” he teased. “But you’re safe for now. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“Of course you are,” I said dryly, but my lips twitched against a smile.

He tapped the armrest between us. “Now, if it’s not bad distracted or good distracted, maybe it’s airplane distracted. First time flying?”

“Not even close,” I said. “I’ve been on plenty of flights.”

It was a lie, but I didn’t want to seem unworldly all of a sudden. Something about this man made me want to seem fascinating and cool as a cucumber.

“Then maybe you’re just bored,” he said with mock seriousness. “In which case, I’m happy to provide in-flight entertainment. For a small fee, of course.”

“A fee?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in like he was letting me in on a secret. “I work for tips. Laughs, smiles, phone numbers…whatever you’re willing to part with.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “You must make a killing.”

“Depends on the company.” He gave me a once-over that managed to feel both teasing and strangely genuine.

I didn’t know what to make of him.

Part of me wanted to write him off as just another flirt, but something about his easy demeanor and the way he seemed determined to pull me out of my own head made it hard to stay cynical.

“Well,” I said after a beat, “I guess I owe you one smile so far. Maybe two.”

He grinned, leaning back with a triumphant air. “I’ll take it. Though I think I can do better than that before we land.”

“Confident, aren’t you?”

“Always,” he said, without missing a beat.

I tried to play it cool, but the way his gaze lingered on me made my pulse stutter. It wasn’t just his looks, though—let’s be honest, they weren’t exactly working against him. It was the way he gave me his full attention, like I was the most interesting thing on this plane.

After days of feeling invisible and used, it was unsettling.

And a little intoxicating.

“All right, Jaxon,” I said, crossing my arms and tilting my head. “If you’re so confident, let’s see what you’ve got. Two hours to impress me before we land.”

His grin turned wicked, the kind of smile that hinted he’d never backed down from a challenge in his life. “Two hours? Plenty of time. But fair warning, I’m aiming for more than just a couple of smiles now.”

“That’s ambitious.”

“What can I say? I like to set the bar high,” he said, his tone light but his eyes locked on mine.

He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance just enough to make my breath hitch. “So, Lila, tell me. What’s your drink of choice when you’re imagining that beach?”

“Is this part of the entertainment?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely. Think of it as character building. I need to know who I’m working with here.”

I fought a smirk, leaning back in my seat. “Fine. A mojito. Preferably with extra mint.”

“Mojito,” he repeated, as if committing it to memory. “Classic, refreshing, a little sweet but with a kick. I can see that.”

“And you?” I countered, trying to regain some footing. “What’s your imaginary beach drink?”

“Oh, I’m a simple guy. Cold beer in a bottle, preferably one I can crack open with my teeth.”

I gave him a skeptical look, and he laughed.

“Okay, maybe not the teeth thing. But the rest stands.”

“Let me guess,” I said, leaning in a little despite myself. “You’re also the kind of guy who says he ‘just wants to feel the sand between his toes’ but secretly books the room with the best air conditioning.”

“Guilty,” he admitted, eyes crinkling at the corners. “And here I thought I was mysterious.”

“You’re about as mysterious as an open book,” I teased, and for a moment, I forgot all about the mess waiting for me on the ground.

The tension in my chest loosened a little more, the corners of my mouth tugging upward without effort.

“Well, if I’m an open book, you should at least read a few chapters,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Who knows? You might like the story.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden heat in his tone. The air between us shifted, becoming charged and almost tangible.

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

“What?” he asked, leaning back but still watching me like he could read my mind. “Too much?”

“Maybe,” I admitted, but the smile on my face betrayed me. “Or maybe you’re just very good at this.”

“At what?”

“Making strangers forget they’re strangers,” I declared before I could stop myself.

Jaxon’s smile softened, losing some of its teasing edge. He studied me, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly, like he was seeing something beyond the surface.

“Not a bad thing, is it?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head, unsure how to answer. For someone who’d spent the last several days feeling betrayed and broken, his words carried a suggestion I wasn’t ready to unpack.

“No,” I said finally, my voice softer than I intended. “Not bad at all.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

The hum of the engines filled the silence, and I felt the tension in my chest loosen just a little more.

Jaxon glanced out the window, his profile sharp against the dusky sky.

“You know, they say every flight has a story,” he said after a beat, his tone lighter now.

“Do they?” I asked, grateful for the shift.

“Oh, sure,” he said, turning back to me with a grin. “The question is whether it’s a comedy, a drama, or something more…exciting.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Let me guess. You’re aiming for ‘exciting’?”

“Always,” he said with a wink. “But don’t worry, Lila. I’m a professional.”

“At what, exactly?”

“Making the most out of unexpected encounters,” he said, his grin widening.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto my face. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but this is probably the least exciting part of my week.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, leaning in again, lowering his voice and sending a shiver down my spine. “Buckle up, sweetheart. This flight’s about to get interesting.”

I raised an eyebrow, but before I could respond, the seatbelt sign dinged off and a flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom, announcing the start of in-flight service.

Jaxon’s grin turned playful again.

“Stay tuned,” he said, leaning back in his seat with a casual air that belied the heat in his gaze.

I shook my head, turning toward the window to hide the flush creeping up my neck.

This was ridiculous.

I’d just lost everything—my savings, my trust, my sense of control—and here I was, flirting with a man I’d known for all of fifteen minutes.

A man who, for all his charm and good looks, probably spent half his time collecting smiles and phone numbers from women on flights just like this one.

And yet…

The way he looked at me, the way he pulled me out of my own head without even trying…it was disarming.

And dangerous.

But this wasn’t who I was.

Or at least, it hadn’t been.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look away from him and focus on the world outside the tiny window.

Two hours , I told myself. One flight.

But when Jaxon shifted beside me, his arm brushing against mine just enough to send a jolt of electricity through my skin, I realized just how much trouble I might be in.

And the flight had only just begun…