Weakly, she slipped her hand into the side pocket and pulled out a sick sack. She just held it, like that was the last thing she wanted to think about. And Dylan turned back toward the airport.
He didn’t make it far before she was holding the bag up to her face, retching.
“That a girl,” he said approvingly. “You’ll be fine when we’re on the ground. Ten minutes, tops.”
And she retched again.
Poor kid, he thought. She liked speed and tight turns, but apparently her inner ear wasn’t crazy about turbulence. Now that he considered it, that probably was a little more than she’d have been used to. Certainly not the first candidate for Dramamine....
“Ew,” she said again. “Oh, God.” Then she reached into her purse with a trembling hand for a tissue. While she wiped her mouth, he was on final approach.
He landed smoothly, taxied in and checked his passenger frequently, noting that her color was slowly coming back. He parked the little plane, jumped out and went around to her side to help her.
She held on to that sack protectively, embarrassed. Her head was down, her hair falling in a canopy, hiding her face.
“It’ll be okay, babe,” he said gently. “Happens sometimes. Even to big tough guys.”
Finally she looked up at him, her eyes watering, her face pale. “Now that,” she said, “was a date.”
After a little time in the restroom, splashing her face, braiding her hair and generally putting herself back together, Katie made a miraculous recovery. When she walked outside, she found Dylan leaning against his bike.
“You look a lot better,” he said with a smile.
“It seems to have left me as fast as it arrived. Whew, that was perfectly awful. I’m so sorry. Probably not what you were expecting, huh?”
“It happens,” he said. “Jump on.”
And away they went. He took a side trip through Arcata and stopped first at a drugstore. He left her on the bike and promised to return quickly. When he came back he handed her a small bag. Inside was a toothbrush, paste, mouthwash, disposable wipes and antiseptic hand wash. “I couldn’t think of another thing you might need,” he said. “I’m taking you to a restaurant—we’ll get you some tea and something mild, like mac and cheese.”
“You act like a man who has had a lot of experience with this,” she said.
“You’re my first,” he said. “Not the first passenger or student to get sick, but the first time a girl I was trying to impress… Well, I wanted it to be memorable.”
“It was,” she said. “A lot like morning sickness. One minute you’re going to die, then it’s over and you feel like you could eat a side of beef.”
“Tea and noodles,” he said. “And if it was morning sickness, it had nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, stop complaining.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “At least you pronounced it a date.”
Dylan took her to a quaint bar; they had to walk up a flight of stairs to the second floor and, given it was still afternoon, they were among just a few diners. The view was of the marshy headlands; the birds were flying low over the tall grasses, the Pacific shining beyond. It was beautiful and so serene. “It looks so harmless out there, doesn’t it?” Katie said. “Some of us know it can really pack a punch. What got you into flying?”
“My grandmother moved us to Montana, where I had no friends or connections and, long story short, out of boredom I was hanging out at the nearest small airport. I started driving my little truck out there and did my homework while watching planes take off and land. Pretty soon I got the courage to wander into the building and asked them how much a ride would cost and they said, ‘Ride in what?’ I wanted to go up in their Lear, but I could afford thirty minutes in a little Cherokee.” He gave a shrug. “I fell in love.”
“I guess you didn’t get sick…”
He shook his head. “Never. I love to do loops and spins and all kinds of crazy stuff. I think I could rock as a test pilot. I was about sixteen when I told my grandmother I wanted to take lessons, get my pilot license, and she said she’d be on board with that if I brought home straight A’s. And did my chores—a lot of which were really crappy chores, pun intended. She bought a place on a lot of land with a barn, a couple of horses, a chicken coop, a couple of cows. Most of my chores involved a shovel and a lot of shit. By the time I was seventeen, I had my license and was instrument qualified. And then I went to Embry-Riddle and majored in aviation.”
“And started a company?” she asked,
“Does that seem ambitious?” he asked her. “It wasn’t. We couldn’t get hired by the major airlines—not enough hours in the cockpit and no hours in a heavy jet. We couldn’t even get on at the smaller regionals. Lots of training in all things aviation, but without the hours…”
“We?”
“My friend Lang and I. He was with me when we rode through Virgin River. We went to college together and he came back to Montana with me. We started real small and grew, but now…” He shook his head.
“Now?”
“The economy is kicking our ass.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “What will you do?”
“We’ll make changes, probably drastic changes. One of the things I’m supposed to be doing while I’m taking this break in the action is having meetings with airport managers, picking their brains about survival skills. And if possible, picking up charter work. Meanwhile, Lang is running things, beginning to downsize the operation, scheduling and probably operating any charters that come our way. We have to think out of the box now—might be time to consider other work options.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I have other ways of earning money, but—”
“Other ways?” she asked.
“We have a snowplow,” he said with a grin. “To keep the runway clear. Maybe we can start plowing roads and driveways in Payne. There are flying jobs all over the place…not always convenient ones, but they’re out there. Contract labor—all over the world. That would be hard on Lang—he’s married and has five kids and usually international jobs take you away for a month or more at a time, at least. He’s pretty committed to Montana—sees it as a good place to bring up the kids. Last year one of our pilots left for Nigeria—it was a one-year contract and it was good money. But it was a long way from home. And we like that little airport. We built it.”
She leaned her chin on her hand. “This must be very tough for you.”
“It’s a challenge, that’s for sure. Pretty soon we’re going to have to let people go. I hate to do that. They’re all good, loyal people. In most cases, my neighbors.”
She smiled at him. “There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye,” she said.
He also leaned his chin on his hand. “And what meets the eye, Katie Malone?”
“Hoodlum,” she said. “Biker bum. Ne’er do well. Notorious flirt. Opportunist…”
“Hey! I’m only an opportunist in the best possible way—the kind who will start a company that puts a few people to work.”
Her expression softened and grew serious. “I do know how it is to have your own company and to have it mean the world. I had a hardware store with my brother, remember. It was doing well when some jackass burned it down and sent us into hiding. Conner talks about maybe rebuilding. Maybe around Virgin River. But…”
“But…?” he prompted.
“But it took the store burning down for him to see that he needed a little more balance in his life, that he’d been working too hard and wanted more time to relax, more time with the boys and with his woman.” She shook her head. “I’ve never really seen Conner like this. He’s mellowed out a lot.”
“Couldn’t prove it by me,” Dylan said. “He pretty much snarls when he sees me, which fortunately isn’t too often.”
She giggled. “I told you—he’d like to pick my boyfriends.”
“Am I your boyfriend now? After the plane ride, even considering…?”
She ignored him and asked, “Tell me m
ore about your company. Your airplanes, your barn, your best friend, your town, your grandmother…”
Dylan tried to remember how many times he’d been asked questions like these by lovely young women. The answer was never. Oh, he’d been asked about his famous grandmother, about his days in Hollywood, about how big his company was and how many planes he had and they stopped just short of asking what his bank balance was. But about his best friend? His barn? His town? Was it like this just because Katie Malone didn’t really know a thing about him?
He found himself talking and talking. He loved telling about how his grandmother took charge and found a place off the grid for them to live while he struggled to enter adulthood; about Lang and Sue Ann; about going to high school in Payne, college in the Prescott mountains. He told her about the girl he took to the senior prom, and had her laughing when he told the story of Lang falling for Mrs. Lang and how Sue Ann pinned his ears back and just wouldn’t take any of his big-city, playboy crap.
Then he asked her all about growing up in a hardware store, asked what kind of high school experience she had. “I’d like to teach while my kids are in school. It would be perfect for me. I’m sorry about the store, of course, but teaching and coaching girls’ athletics—that’s more me.” Then she grinned and said, “As long as I stay on the ground, I guess.”
Even though they lingered a long time over their dinner, it was still early evening when they headed for Virgin River. He took her off the road just long enough to view the sunset over the Pacific, then on to the little town, to her cabin.
He’d never felt closer to a woman in his adult life.
And then they were standing there, in front of that little cabin. All around them in the darkness were the noises of the forest, the crickets and squawks and occasional rustling sounds, but Katie just stood on the first step of the porch, looking into his burning blue eyes. He gently touched her cheek and the line of her jaw. He kissed the left corner of her mouth, then the right.
“This is going to be goodbye, I guess,” she said.
“That would probably be for the best,” he said. “You don’t want to get mixed up with me. You don’t want to put your boys through that…”
“Dylan, understand something—I will always take care of my kids first. Always. If I thought being around you was bad for them in any way… They’re first, that’s all. I could love you more than life itself and they would still be first. It’s a commitment a mother makes when she has children. And besides, I’m not so sure you’re bad for them. You’re a very nice guy.”
“But I should probably get out of here…” And he touched her lips again, more seriously. He covered her mouth in a hot, demanding kiss that robbed her of breath. “Unless…” And he kissed her some more.
“Unless…?” she asked weakly.
“Unless you want me to stay for a couple of hours…and make sure you never forget me.”
“Hmm,” she said, leaning toward him for more of his mouth. “Tempting. But unnecessary. I’ll never forget you, Dylan. I’ve had a very fun couple of weeks. Thank you.”
“Katie, Katie…I hate to leave you…”
“I understand, Dylan. You have things to take care of. And besides, I don’t want to have the best sex of my life with a guy who’s on his way out of town… Just kiss me some more and then tonight I’ll imagine it.”
“When you imagine it, multiply it times ten…” He went after her lips again. He pulled her hard against him and slid a hand up her side to briefly cover her breast. He feasted on her neck, jaw, ear, temple, mouth, then just held her still and close.
“Times a hundred,” she whispered.
They were locked on each other for another five minutes and she was the one to pull back. “I could do this forever, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself and cry. If you’re going, you should go while I still have some dignity.”
Dignity he understood. He backed off a bit and gave a nod. “I’ll think of you as the best part of my summer, Katie,” he said.
“I hope you can save the company,” she said. “And thank you for making me feel so special.”
He gave her waist a squeeze. “You are special. Don’t you ever forget that.”
And he turned from her, going to his bike.
Eight
She hurried into the cabin because her breath had started coming in little gasps and in a second she knew she was going to fall apart. Inside, she paced in the small space, plunging her hand into her hair and making small whimpering sounds. Why, why, why couldn’t things be different? she asked herself.
Oh, she was going to cry all night, she knew it. She was flat-ass bonkers over him and did not feel better off this way. But he was probably right—if it was only going to end suddenly, leaving her grasping for something that just wasn’t there, it was better that he was gone.
Better? she asked herself. Wouldn’t it be easier to adjust to his leaving after a couple of drop-dead orgasms than never knowing? Why was she always so careful? What did she have to lose, really?
Screw it, she thought. She might have sent him off but she knew where that little Riordan cabin was and could still have her unforgettable couple of hours. After all, the boys were tucked in at Uncle Conner’s house and Leslie, so optimistic, would never let them come home before morning.
She grabbed her purse and shot out the door.
And there he was, sitting on the motorcycle.
She skidded to a stop on the porch. “Ah…before you leave…”
“Yeah?” he said, sitting up straighter.
“I’ve been thinking…about a couple of hours…”
“Yeah?”
She shook her head. “Don’t go yet, Dylan.”
His leg came over the bike and he vaulted off, eating up the space between them in three long strides, leaping up the porch steps and pulling her into his arms, covering her mouth in a searing kiss that demanded every emotion she had. His hands were all over her, running up and down her back and pulling her against him, up her sides and covering her breasts, tangled in her hair, pulling her face onto his. He was murmuring her name and she was clutching him close so he wouldn’t fly away.
Dylan walked her backward into the cabin and kicked the door closed when they were inside, but they didn’t get far. Standing there, just inside the door, he pulled her shirt over her head, pulled his over his head, and he began kissing her breasts through the lace of her skimpy bra. Before she could see what happened, that undergarment was gone and he was attending to her erect nipples—a lick, a kiss, a suck. It brought the deepest of sounds from her, her fingers in his hair.
He began kissing his way down her belly while his fingers deftly worked the button on her jeans and kissed his way below her waist just as he slid them over her hips and down, down, down. With the jeans went the tiniest thong. He fell to one knee before her and pulled off her right shoe, then the right leg of her jeans, and his lips were teasing her lower belly, upper thigh, his fingers moving deeper. With his hands on her hips, he drew her toward him. As she cried out, he lifted that bare leg and pulled it over his shoulder and all of a sudden, he had his mouth on her softest parts. “Dylan!” she cried out, knotting her hands in his hair. He devoured her hungrily, like a starving man, licking the deepest part of her. A minute inside the door and she was exploding!
“God,” he cried, going in for more. “Sweet heaven…”
Her knees gave out with pleasure so electrifying she could no longer stand, but he caught her and gently lowered her to the floor. His fingers replaced his mouth and he found her lips with his. “You are the best thing I’ve ever…” He kissed her deeply. “Katie, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get enough....” But while he murmured against her lips, he freed her from the left shoe and the rest of her jeans. His belt came open and disappeared and she reached down to open his jeans.
And she had him in her hand. He groaned in beautiful agony. He instinctively moved toward her, probing gently, wanting all of her. He was slipping
inside and he wasn’t going to last long. He was so right, the sensation of being inside her was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever felt. He went into a trance at once.
“Please,” she whispered. “Dylan. Please find that condom so we can…”
“Condom,” he said. “On it.” And he sat back just long enough to get rid of the rest of his clothing and get that protection from his back pocket.
And then he went still for a second. He lowered himself over her gently, touching her lips. “I know this is going too fast, baby, but we’ll take our time a little later. I know I sound like a madman, but I need to be inside you.”