Dirty Secret: A Bad Boy Romance (Bluefield Bad Boys Book 3)

  Graham stuck up his hand to stop him from handing me the hat. “I’m sorry, but Miss Harlow is not signing autographs right now.”

  I glared at Graham as the embarrassed attendant pulled the hat out of my reach. His shoulders sank as he turned away. I picked up the plate of cheese, dropped it in Graham’s lap, snapped shut the food tray and slid past my asshole manager.

  I hurried to catch up to the flight attendant. I tapped his shoulder and took hold of his cap and pen. “Who should I make it out to?”

  His face darkened with a blush, which only added to his wholesome appearance. “Ronald, please. And thank you so much, Miss Harlow. I’ve been collecting names on that hat for three years.”

  “I see you’ve got an impressive collection of autographs.” I finished signing the hat and handed it back to him. “Uh, Ronald, one question. Are there any empty seats in coach?”

  His smooth brows knitted together. “In coach?”

  “Yes, I’m feeling a little claustrophobic up here.” I smiled sweetly as he glanced past me toward Graham.

  “Oh, I see. Yes, as far as I know we’re only about half full back there. With summer ended, this is no longer a popular flight. But there are a few vacant seats up here as well—if you are just looking for a little more space.” He smiled back, and his gaze once again flitted to Graham. “They are only serving peanuts, soda and juice on that side of the curtain.”

  “Peanuts and juice sound divine. Thank you so much for your help.” I turned around. Graham’s bushy, chocolate brown eyebrows were doing that little dance they did whenever he was quickly trying to figure out what I was up to.

  I walked back to our seats, and he moved his legs to make room for me to slide over.

  I didn’t say a word as I continued past our row. Duff glanced up from whatever he was reading on his tablet. He didn’t question me as I walked by. My biggest obstacle was still to come. Axel was sitting alone, taking up nearly both seats with his mass. As if my movements were always on his radar, his big eyes popped open as he was ripped from the nap he’d been taking. He sat forward like an unwieldy, startled giant. It almost seemed as if the entire plane shifted with his movement.

  “Lennie, where are you going?”

  I patted his oversized hand. “Shh, go back to your dreams, sleepy head. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to take a little walk.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, you’ll probably upset the whole physics thing going on with the plane. Stay here. I’ll be fine.”

  He sighed. “You’re going to be the death of me, Lennie.”

  I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Stop worrying.”

  I continued on toward the heavy curtains that separated first class from coach. I pushed through them. The two flight attendants organizing baskets of warm cookies for the privileged front section of the plane looked up in surprise.

  “Would it be terribly against the rules if I took a few of those cookies right now?”

  “Uh no, yes, well no, Miss Harlow, please help yourself.” The attendant waved her hand toward the trays. It was always so strange to have people call me Miss Harlow or to be treated as if I was somebody. Especially when, for the majority of my life, I was nobody. In fact, if there was a term for being less than nobody that had been me. Human vapor in a strong wind, that was how I’d felt for most of my life until Graham Rushton, the man who I’d grown to dislike immensely, walked into my shadowy existence.

  I took two cookies, thanked the attendants and headed toward the coach seats.

  “Miss Harlow,” the woman said, “first class is the other direction.”

  “Yes, I know. Thank you again.” I pushed through the curtains.

  Ronald had been right. There were a lot of empty seats but no empty rows. It took a few seconds for the curious glances and then full on stares to occur. I smiled and nodded at the stunned faces as I slipped down the aisle, not completely sure where I was heading. If necessary, I would just stand by the restroom for the last two hours of the flight. It would still be far more pleasant than sitting next to Graham.

  I heard my name being whispered, and it was hard to hold back a grin. It had taken some getting used to having people recognize me in public. I’d hated it at first, but I’d come to grips with it being part of the business. I was used to it now. Most people were like Ronald, the flight attendant, or the cute group of teens in the airport terminal. They just wanted an autograph or a picture to show friends. It was cool to think that I mattered enough to give them something fun to share and talk about. The paparazzi and tabloid reporters were another matter altogether. They only seemed interested in discovering dirty secrets about celebrities, and my past, if ever brought to light, would give them plenty to write about. I avoided them like a plague.

  I reached the back of coach, and it seemed luck was on my side. The extremely hot prince, who had kindly taken my sandal through security, was sitting alone in a row. He didn’t need to stretch up to see over the seat in front of him. His dark blue eyes landed right on me.

  I headed to his row. He stared up at me. “Guess we were getting on the same plane.” His deep, sexy voice went nicely with the rest of him. His legs were so long, he had a hard time sitting in the seat.

  I pointed to the seat next to him. “Is it taken?”

  He shook his head without lifting it from the seat. He was obviously not the least bit impressed with celebrity status, and that made him even cooler. “Be my guest, but I’ve got to warn you, you missed the crappy bag of peanuts and Dixie cup of apple juice. It’s like being in preschool back here in coach.”

  I held up the cookies. “That’s all right. I brought in some contraband from first class.”

  He curled his long legs back to get them out of the way.

  I smiled as I shimmied down into the seat. “They don’t really make these coach seats for above average humanoids. Good thing I’m of the mini version. We make a nice fit together.” I handed him a cookie. “They’re still warm.”

  “Damn, so this is how the other half lives. Or should I say, this is how the one percent lives? Warm cookies on airplanes.” He took a bite. “Hmm, and good ones too.” His handsome face was even more striking up close. The guy would absolutely stand out in a crowd.

  “Kind of ridiculous isn’t it? The difference between this section of the plane and first class.”

  He shrugged. “Nah, if you earned the money, then you earned the good life.”

  “I applaud your attitude.” I reached over with my free hand. “I’m Lenix Harlow.”

  “I know who you are. Think everyone on this plane knows who you are.” He stared down at my hand a second as if he was trying to decide if it was real. His big hand came up and nearly swallowed mine. “Dawson Sullivan.”

  I curled my fingers around his hand, so he couldn’t pull it away. I turned it over and rubbed my fingers over his callused palm. I was sure I heard him hold his breath as I touched him. Even though I’d done it just to show him that I noticed the calluses, I was a little breathless myself. “Let me guess. You’re not a businessman who sits behind a computer all day. You’re not a musician because the calluses are in the wrong place.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I can pound out a pretty awesome drumbeat on my steering wheel when the mood hits me.”

  I laughed. “I’ll bet. You look like the steering wheel drummer type. No, I’m thinking you’re in construction.” I reluctantly released his hand. “Guess that would explain the shoulder width too. And the fact that you’re pretty damn dreamy. Dreamy just seems to go with a rugged construction job.”

  “Then sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a coal miner.”

  I scooted over against the arm of the seat to face him. “You mean like those guys with the lights on their helmets who go way down in the earth to dig for stuff? Coal, I guess, in your case.”

  He laughed at my elementary school description. “Something like that. Only machines do the digging. I shove metal bolts into the
roof of the mine to make sure it doesn’t collapse.”

  “That sounds dangerous and scary and rugged and . . .” I looked him up and down. “I’m not going to lie, Dawson, I’m just a little turned on right now.”

  His eyes rounded, but there was a full sized grin hiding behind his shocked look.

  “Guess that was too forward. It’s the altitude. Makes me sort of lightheaded, and maybe just a little horny too. Or that might be these arms and the tattoos. I’ll just nibble on this, so that I shut up.” I sat back and took a bite of the cookie.

  “So were things just a little too comfortable at the front of the plane?”

  “Annoying is more like it. Sometimes when you spend too much time with people, they start to grate on your nerves.”

  “Gotcha. And I understand completely.”

  I handed him the last half of my cookie, which he accepted and ate in one bite.

  “What’s it like down there underground? I get panicked if my sweater gets stuck on my head. I can’t even imagine standing inside a dark chamber surrounded by tons of earth.”

  The faint grin on his face looked extra appealing. It seemed he was a guy who’d lived a hard life, and at his young age, already had plenty of stories to tell. “It’s sort of like that,” he said after some thought. His eyes were the kind that could look right into your soul. “It’s those seconds of panic when the sweater gets stuck on your head. Only, it’s all day and it comes and goes. You just don’t think about it. Otherwise, the panic gets to you.”

  I thought about what he was telling me, and even though he was dealing with the terror of being underground, where the guts of the earth could swallow you forever, I faced a similar kind of terror whenever I walked on stage. Only for me, it was the stage set, the massive, thunderous crowd and the noise that were all waiting to swallow me. Only I hadn’t found a way to not think about it when I was up there. And so the panic followed me right out onto the stage, ready to consume me and suck the life from me.

  I looked over at my handsome, new friend. “If it’s not a bother, can I sit here for the rest of the flight?”

  “Not a bother at all.”

  Chapter 7

  Dawson

  It hadn’t been my imagination. Other passengers were taking a comical amount of trips to the bathroom. I couldn’t blame them. Lenix Harlow was a sight to see, especially sitting in the dingy, narrow coach cabin. I was still having a hard time believing that she was in the seat next to me, except that I’d already memorized the scent of her perfume and the way her lips curled up perfectly for her smile. It was one of those moments in time that you wanted to tell your friends about but you knew, damn well, they wouldn’t believe a word of it. Guess it didn’t really matter as long as it was going to be part of my memory forever. And, with the way Lenix laughed, talked and made me want every inch of her just with the way she looked at me, I was sure that the unreal moment in time was going to be etched in my brain forever.

  “Where are you headed after this bird touches down?” Lenix turned to the side again so she could face me.

  “I’m meeting my sisters down at some motel on a beach called Newport Cove. We’re all on vacation.”

  “How cute that you’re meeting your sisters.”

  “Yeah, cute isn’t exactly the word I had for it. But all of my friends had to work, so I kind of settled for Aubrey and Megan. And they settled for me too. I grew up with three sisters.”

  “Did you?” Her thin shoulders lifted with a heavy sigh. “I always wanted siblings. This probably sounds pathetic, but for awhile, when I was, like, seven, I invented a sister. Her name was Clarice, and she had flowing blonde hair and blue eyes and I was totally jealous of her. But I loved hanging out with Clarice.”

  I smiled. “That’s funny. If you were jealous of her blonde hair and blue eyes, why didn’t you just imagine her with short, dark stubbly hair and beady eyes?”

  “Because she was my sister, and I didn’t want her to be sad.”

  “Of course. What was I thinking?”

  “Excuse me.” A woman with a t-shirt that had a panda bear picture on it came up from behind. “I don’t want to bother you, but my kid sister is absolutely nuts about your band.” She held up a pen and a copy of the safety instructions for turning the seat into a floatation device. She smiled down at it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have anything else.”

  Lenix laughed and took hold of the instructions and the pen. “I’ll sign it up here, so I don’t cover any of the instructions. I could never forgive myself if you couldn’t get your seat to float. What’s her name?”

  “Bonnie. She’ll be so thrilled.”

  “My friend and I were just talking about how much we love our sisters.” Lenix looked over at me. “Weren’t we?”

  “Yep, we were.”

  The woman gave me a quick glance, then she thanked Lenix and left with her autographed safety instructions.

  “Anyhow, before I veered off on my beautiful blonde sister story, I was going to say that we’re going to Newport Cove too . . . for a resting vacation. Long string of coincidences, don’t you think? First our shoes went through security together and then we both ended up here in these seats talking about our sisters and the fact that we’re going on vacation in Newport Cove. And you’re a drummer, apparently. Another coincidence.”

  “Yeah, a lot of coincidences, except that I’m a fake, wannabe drummer and your sister is kind of a fraud too.”

  “Right, Clarice is a fake, wannabe sister. See another coincidence. I’ll have to look you up when we get to Newport.”

  “That’s all right. You don’t have to say that. I’m sure I’ll have a memorable week with my two older sisters, who I have nothing in common with except that we all grew up under the same roof and we all love my mom’s macaroni and cheese.”

  She reached up unexpectedly and pushed a long strand of hair off my face. Her touch had been as faint as a whisper, but it made the air stick in my lungs for a second.

  “Do you doubt me, coal miner?” she asked with a blink of her long lashes.

  “Come on. You’re—you’re you. Don’t worry. I have already accepted this as the highlight of my vacation, and I’m already prepared for it to go south from here. And the flight home—well that’s really going to suck without you sitting next to me.”

  A massive figure moving out of the corner of my eye dragged my attention from the girl sitting next to me, a girl who was stealing more of my heart with each passing second. The giant who had loomed over us when I gave Lenix back her shoe was filling up the aisle with his huge, scary presence.

  Lenix followed my line of vision. “Nope, I’m not going up there.” She lifted her small, slim hand and waved it at him. It was quite a sight, a tiny, petite woman telling a monstrously big guy what to do. “Just turn around, Hulk Hogan, and go back the way you came. I’m fine.”

  The bodyguard glowered down at me. His head was the size of a basketball, and I had no doubt his fists could punch through the side of the airplane if given the chance. I stared back at him, and he eventually gave up. With a look of disappointment, he turned around.

  Every head in coach was stretched up to watch the big guy walk away.

  “Axel,” Lenix called.

  He turned back to face us.

  “You know I love you.” She blew him a kiss. Laughter rolled through the cabin. The bodyguard’s barrel chest rose and fell with a frustrated sigh. Then he turned around and disappeared behind the secret curtain. The curtain was just like the railroad tracks in Bluefield that separated the haves from the have-nots. Only today, I was sitting on the have-not side, and it was fucking awesome.

  Lenix turned to me. “He gets his feelings hurt easily.”

  “Is that before or after he chews a bowl of glass chunks for breakfast?”

  Lenix’s laugh sounded like music. “You are funny, my coal mining friend. Let me see what else I can guess about you.” She lifted the seat arm between us, and without another thought, she toss
ed her smooth, bare legs across my lap.

  “Do you mind?” she asked pointing to her legs. “I’m getting a cramp in my calves and need to stretch them.”

  “The day I mind having a hot pair of silky legs draped across my lap is the day they need to dig me a six foot hole.” I slid one hand under her calf and started to massage it. “Do you mind?” I asked about me touching her.

  “The day I say no to a guy with an impressive set of muscles and tattoos touching me—well, you get where I’m going with this. And, by the way, that feels great.” She tapped her chin. “O.K., I’m going to tell you things about yourself, and you tell me if I’m right or wrong or something in between.”

  “Interesting game. Go ahead.”

  “I already know you’re ridiculously brave and completely reckless since you risk your life down in middle earth every day.”

  “Don’t know about brave but the reckless thing is pretty spot on.”

  “Ooh, that’s nice.” She moved her leg so my hand would slide a little lower. “Right there. Perfect. I just want to point out that they do not offer this particular service in first class. I think I might write it down and shove it in their suggestion box. If there is such a thing.”

  She reached up and brushed her fingers lightly over the curved scar I had above my eye. It was one of many marks, lasting impressions, from my reckless life. Her touch coupled with her beautiful legs on my lap was making my cock stand up and take notice. I shifted back some in my seat, not wanting it to become too obvious.

  “This scar and the few others I see tell me that you have seen more than your share of barroom brawls.” She peered up at me from beneath her long, dark red bangs. “Over a certain lady, perhaps?”

  “Haven’t earned too many that way. Although, I have ended up on the other end of a pissed off boyfriend’s fist. There’s a bar near my house with a backroom fight club. It’s a nice way to blow off steam and win some extra cash.”