Читать книгу Flying - Меган Харт - Страница 17

CHAPTER NINE

Not all pilots fool around when they’re away from home, but this one is clearly DTF. That’s what the cool kids call it—Stella learned it from the Connex account she’s basically abandoned. Down To Fuck. Actually, the cool kids have probably moved on from that phrase now, on to something else she’ll have to look up on urbandictionary.com to understand. It doesn’t matter how it’s said, the man in front of her is clearly down for something.

This isn’t the first time she’s flown with Captain Truax, and it’s not the first time he’s checked her out when she’s boarded and unboarded. He has a wide, nice smile for everyone, but his eyes linger on hers when she gets on the plane. There’s recognition there, even though today Stella wears a blond wig in a chin-length bob. He’s seen her in all shades of blond before. Also brunette. She wonders which he likes better. Maybe he prefers redheads.

“Welcome aboard,” the captain says, and Stella smiles.

In the few minutes before they ask everyone to turn off their phones, Stella shares a few texts with Craig. She’d tried earlier to catch him in a call, as she’d promised, but missed him. Then he’d called back while she was in the shower, and then it had been time for her to get to the airport. She’s not sure how she feels about this new development in an old situation.

But she doesn’t have to think about it now.

Today’s flight is short enough that Stella barely has time to get through a few chapters of her book. She’s among the last off the plane. She pauses to pull up the handle on her wheeled bag, and while she does, Captain Truax passes her with his own carry-on. He stops when he sees her struggling.

“Need a hand?”

“The handle’s stuck, that’s all.” Stella steps aside to let him help her. “Don’t you have another flight to catch or something?”

Captain Truax, who stands at least six foot three, straightens. His teeth are very white. Very straight. “Nope. I’m off duty. This last little jump was my final flight for a few days.”

“Oh. Nice. So you’re going home?” They fall companionably into step along the corridor. “You live in Philly?”

“Oh. No. Just taking a little layover, do some sightseeing. Spending some time with my daughter. She goes to Temple. I live in Atlanta.” He gives her another grin. “How about you? You make this flight pretty frequently, don’t you? Travel a lot for...business?”

And there’s the problem with doing what she does. Being noticed. Recognized. She doesn’t want to talk to Captain Truax about why she’s in the standby seat every other Friday and Sunday. She doesn’t like anybody asking her questions.

“Yes.” Stella smiles but says no more, and Captain Truax doesn’t ask what it is, exactly, that she does.

“Have a great weekend,” he says. “Maybe I’ll see you on Sunday.”

But it doesn’t take that long for her to see him again. Stella has also decided to do some sightseeing, mostly because there are sights to see in Philadelphia, and she always means to take Tristan for the day but they never end up doing it. It’s only a couple hours from home, but it took a plane to get her here. She’s picked Philly because it’s convenient and because one of her favorite bands is doing a show Saturday night at a bar downtown.

She sees Captain Truax at the Liberty Bell. He’s with his daughter, both of them standing far enough apart from each other to highlight the tension between them, but there’s no mistaking the resemblance. Stella, dressed casually, her hair in a ponytail, stands right next to him without him noticing her at all. She watches him try to woo his daughter into a smile, but it’s obvious that she’s not ready to let go of whatever traumas his parenting has given her.

The night before, Stella had found a much younger man who’d been totally amenable to taking her back to his apartment, if only she didn’t mind the fact that he had roommates. That wasn’t what bothered her as much as the dilation of his pupils and the too-firm grip of his fingers on her upper arm when he tried to convince her it would be the time of her life.

“I have a nine-inch cock,” he’d promised. “And a six-inch tongue.”

Stella as a blonde could sometimes be more easily convinced than as a brunette or with her natural hair, but something in the dent of his fingers on her flesh didn’t feel right. She put him off with a smile, then watched him move immediately down the bar to another girl, already wasted, who seemed far more inclined to take him up on his offer.

Watching Captain Truax flounder with his kid, Stella feels a pang of sympathy that echoes somewhere in the vicinity of her ovaries. It’s so obvious how much he wants her to smile. Or at least take the fucking look of doom off her face. Stella shakes her head as she follows them discreetly past the row of giant plaques giving the history of the Liberty Bell. The bell itself hangs inside a special building. Stella looks at it and waits to feel patriotic, but all she feels is hungry, thirsty and tired from getting up too early. She wanted to take advantage of the whole day.

“Let me take you to dinner,” Captain Truax says as he and his frowning daughter leave the Liberty Bell pavilion. “I’m only in town until tomorrow....”

“Sorry, Dad.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I have plans.”

“Maggie...”

The girl shrugs, not looking at him. Stella’s heart goes out to him, even though she feels the tiniest bit creepy listening in on the conversation. She keeps herself busy looking at the historical information while she eavesdrops.