Читать книгу SOS Marry Me! - Melissa McClone, Melissa Mcclone - Страница 12

THE next afternoon, Kane eyed the altocumulus clouds to the west. No immediate danger there. The weather service had issued an icing advisory at high altitudes, but they’d be flying below the problem. His plane was only certified to forty-five thousand feet. Still he wanted to get in the air.

As soon as his passenger got off her damn pink cell phone.

“Yes, Belle,” Serena said. “Both the local paper and the magazine took photos.”

“Hang up,” Kane ordered. “Time to go.”

Serena held up a single, slim finger in response: One minute.

He’d already given up more than a minute.

Back at the convention center, photographers had swarmed The Wedding Belles’ booth, snapping pictures and jotting down quotes from Serena. She really was some kind of hotshot in the wedding world.

Kane had suffered the commotion as well and as long as he could. He could see success was important to her. Anyway, his dad was paying for his time. Complaining wasn’t going to get him anything but a headache.

But after the Suit had shown up, eager to shower Serena with congratulations and kisses and who knew what else, Kane’s patience had evaporated. He wasn’t a clocks-and-schedules kind of guy, but the weather system pushing down from Canada wasn’t waiting while Serena played kissy-face with her designer buddy.

Now Kane was waiting again. The plane had been fueled. He had loaded their food and luggage, filed his flight plan and completed his walk-around. It was time—past time—to go.

“Get in the plane.”

She raised her index finger again, like a dog trainer hushing a barking pooch.

Kane bit back a growl and grabbed her phone.

“She’s got to go,” he said into the tiny receiver. “She’ll call you later.”

He switched off the phone and tossed it into the plane, onto her seat.

“What did you do that for?” Lines creased Serena’s forehead. “I was only on the phone for a couple of minutes.”

“Try twenty,” he corrected.

Serena opened her mouth then pressed her lips together. She entered the plane. He followed her.

“A couple storms are brewing with a low pressure system off the Pacific.” Kane locked the door. “There’s weather in Canada that’s moving south.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“You were on the phone.”

Serena removed her coat. Took her a pad out of her bag. Sat down.

Kane recognized the silent treatment. The way her eyes avoided his. Amber used to do that. So did a lot of other women. He wouldn’t let Serena make him feel guilty. Not when she should be apologizing to him.

“The weather shouldn’t affect us,” he said. “But keep your seat belt fastened in case we hit any turbulence.”

She buckled herself up. “Not a problem.”

“There’s food in the galley, but be quick about it because of the—”

“Turbulence,” she finished for him. “I will, and, Kane…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for taking so long.” Her gaze captured his, her big blue eyes apologetic. Appealing. Not like Amber at all. Not like any other of the women in his life. “I know you delayed our departure back at the convention center, and I really appreciate that, but I was excited. I wanted to share the news of all the good publicity and photo ops with my friends.”

He grunted. “No worries.”

Kane lied.

He was worried plenty. Not about the weather. He was a good pilot. Surface wind speeds were acceptably low, and the system coming in was moving slowly enough that it shouldn’t be a problem.

His reaction to her, however, was a whole other story.

Kane was upset at her. Serena stared out the small window at the overcast sky.

Even though he’d accepted her apology, she could tell he didn’t like being made to wait. She didn’t like waiting, either. Time to make it up to him?

Not necessary, a voice in her head whispered.

He’d been a jerk.

He’d grabbed her phone.

He’d hung up on Belle.

Kane had explained all that. She could forgive his impatience to get in the air. She wasn’t quite as ready to let go of his brusque rejection last night.

Then it’s a good thing I’m not your girl, isn’t it?

A damn good thing.

Serena bit her lip. Kane hadn’t even let her buy him a beer. He’d wanted a “rain check.”

Not that she cared. Not much anyway.

Unless his wanting a “rain check” was his way of seeing her in Boston. Maybe it was time to find out.

They hadn’t hit any turbulence. Now that they were at cruising altitude, Serena unfastened her seat belt and went to the galley that reminded her more of a refreshment center than an actual kitchen. Still the efficiently designed space made it easy to pour a cup of coffee, find two freshly baked cookies and put them on a napkin. She carried everything to the cockpit.

Payback? Or peace offering?

Either way, she didn’t want to owe Kane anything.

“I brought you a snack,” she said.

He glanced back. “What?”

“Coffee and chocolate-chip cookies.” He liked chocolate, she remembered. “I, um, owe you a drink, remember? There wasn’t any cream—”

“Black is fine.” He took the food from her. “Thanks.”

Okay, she was done now. “I’ll be going back.”

“Come on up,” he said at the same time.

Kane motioned to the other seat. “Sit up here for a while.”

Serena stared at the high-tech-looking instrument panel with a small computerlike device between the two pilot seats. Not a lot of space up here.

She glanced at the cabin. Safer, back there.

“Plenty of room,” Kane said. “This baby’s simple enough for one pilot, but it can be flown by two.”

“I can’t fly.”

His attractive mouth curved. “But you can sit, right?”

She crawled into the seat and peered out the window. The one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view took her breath away. Clouds blanketed the sky as far as she could see. She couldn’t tell where the ground was or where the sky ended. Forget about locating the horizon. “Wow.”

The word described how she felt inside. Every nerve ending tingled. Her insides buzzed.

Being up here, cocooned in the small cockpit with Kane and cut off from the earth below, made all her problems seem a world away. A world she wasn’t in any hurry to return to.

“Fasten your seat belt,” he said.

The harness-style seat belt went over her shoulders and around her waist. She had trouble buckling it. Kane reached over to help her. The warm skin of his hands brushed hers, sending tiny shocks down to the tips of her fingers.

Nothing. It meant nothing. “I’ve got it.”

“Sure?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure about anything. Still she nodded and clipped the buckle in.

“Most of the weather is behind us,” he said. “It should be smooth flying. We might even make up some time.”

“Good.”

But it wasn’t. Not really.

Serena wasn’t ready to return to Boston. She wanted this time, a time with no lies, no expectations to uphold and no responsibility a little while longer. The bridal show in Seattle had been stressful, but also successful. Coming off that high, she was still literally flying, and she’d never felt such freedom as she did now.

Was that what Kane liked? The freedom? The ability to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted? She could definitely understand that appeal now.

She glanced his way. “So…do you like to fly?”

He gave her a look.

Okay, dumb question.

Serena would try again. “How long have you been flying?”

“Since I was sixteen. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“Why did you choose to be a charter pilot and not an airline pilot?”

“I thought about doing the corporate gig, but it’s too much like working for a bus company. My grandfather bought a business jet. When he offered me a job as his personal pilot, I jumped at it. I flew for him for six years, until he got sick.” Kane’s mouth tightened. “He doesn’t travel anymore.”

Her chest tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? I got my hands on this plane for next to nothing and my grandfather’s instructions were to make my own way in the wild blue yonder. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

Serena envied his go-where-the-wind-carried-him attitude. She’d planned out her entire life. Rarely did she go out to eat without reservations.

“How often do you fly?” she asked, wanting to learn more about him. Something about Kane Wiley intrigued her in a way she’d never felt before.

“All the time.” He patted the yoke. “This baby isn’t only how I make my living. It’s where I call home.”

“Home.” She thought about her painstakingly decorated flat in Boston. “You and me. We’re very different.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Serena nodded.

He was rootless, a wanderer, free. She was tied down by her business, responsibility, expectations.

But at this moment, for as long as it could last, Serena wanted to enjoy the flight and this time with Kane, in spite of their differences and because of them. She wanted a taste—a nibble really—of what his life was like.

“You’re such a free spirit,” she said.

“I like to go where I want to go.”

“And Boston?”

“A layover,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“Isn’t your family there?”

“My dad.” Kane pushed a couple of buttons. “We don’t always see eye to eye on things.”

“My sister is like that with my mom and dad. That’s made things…difficult.”

For all of them.

“What about you and your parents?” he asked.

“I get along fine with my folks.”

She’d made sure of that.

“Lucky.”

Serena nodded. But feeling lucky had nothing to do with her parents and everything to do with the sexy man sitting next to her. She held back a sigh.

A button lit up on the instrument panel. Kane immediately noticed it. Sat straighter. Furrowed his brow.

Her heart jolted. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope, but I need to take care of that light.” He studied the instrument panel. “Would you mind going back to the cabin and fastening your seat belt?”

“Sure.” She unbuckled the harness and squeezed out of the seat. “I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, pulling out some kind of manual.

Serena returned to her seat and buckled her seat belt. Leaning back, she blew out a puff of air.

What had she been thinking? Doing up there?

That warning light had been a sign, a reminder that she was better off earthbound. She needed to get her head out of the clouds. Being up in the air was a dangerous place. And being with Kane…

She didn’t want any turbulence in her well-planned life.

Why was engine number two’s damn fuel filter light on?

Kane stared on the instrument panel. He reset the circuit. The light remained on.

Interesting.

He had dealt with this before and knew what to do, but with Serena on board, he glanced at the flight procedure’s manual to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

Okay. Just as he remembered. One fuel filter light. No problem. He would wait and see what happened next.

The usual chatter filled the radio airwaves. Nothing to worry about.

Kane focused his attention on the instrument panel. Everything was looking good.

The other fuel filter light popped on.

His stomach knotted in about a hundred different ways.

Two fuel filter lights meant fuel contamination. Damn. The plane had been filled with bad gas.