Page 53 of Wood Riddance
Her breath caught, and she searched my face. “What kind of girl am I?”
My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to pick up the desk and throw it out a window. Anything to take away the barrier between us.
I held eye contact, letting the crackle of tension build between us. God, I wanted to grab her face and kiss her. But she was vulnerable, and I had promised to stop.
So I dropped my head.
“You’re not a girl, Adele. You’re a fucking goddess.”
With that, I forced myself to spin on my heel and leave her office. If I stayed for a moment longer, I’d do something I’d regret. And she didn’t deserve that.
As I stepped over the threshold, I turned back. She had dropped back into her chair, and she was watching me with wide eyes and her mouth agape.
“Thursday,” I said. “Meet me at the runway. I’ll be the tall, handsome pilot ready to show you the time of your life.”
Chapter16
Adele
Ishould not have been so nervous. Finn was a competent pilot, and I’d flown with him before. But the dread swirled in my stomach before I had even put my car in park. This was not how I wanted to spend my Thursday.
Taking a sip from my travel coffee mug, I steeled myself for this day. I was a professional. This was my family’s business. We were headed to check out the new land and the viability of a potential second camp for our team. That was it. Easy peasy.
I would take photos, make notes, and consider what kind of equipment could be stored and maintained out there. Then we’d fly home. Alice had already texted to say she was making lasagna for girls’ night, and Parker had sent a photo of three bottles of rosé she had picked up. Somewhat surprisingly, I was looking forward to spending time with my girls. Keeping the whole strip axe-throwing thing to myself had been killing me. They were trustworthy and would keep the information from my brothers if I asked. And I would ask. Because I needed other perspectives in order to fully process that interaction.
It had been one of the sexiest experiences of my entire life, and yet we had never so much as touched. Was that why my brain was going haywire? Because I’d gotten a look at Finn’s naked ass and would never be the same?
Or was it because I hated him a little less every day? Because, try as I might, I couldn’t muster up the anger I used to hold on to so tightly. The blinding rage had subsided and transformed into more of a strong dislike.
The cooling of my rage, combined with the endless reminders of how beautiful he was, was confusing me. And the prospect of hours in a confined space with the man was enough to make me consider running into the woods and taking my chances with Clive.
“She-Ra. You made it.” I heard his voice before I saw those long, thick legs striding toward me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuckers. He was wearing sunglasses. Aviators. His hair was tied back. Damn, he looked hotter than usual, and that was a feat, because the man was gorgeous on a bad day.
Did he do this on purpose? Jackass.
“Ready to fly? We’re all gassed up.”
He held an arm out, pointing at the small runway that fit precisely between buildings and a storage yard that was far larger than anything we had at Gagnon. I’d always wanted to snoop around and see what sort of equipment they housed here. Hebert Timber had been much larger and far more successful than my family’s business. They had a flashy office building and all sorts of toys, including a runway on the property. These days, we all realized the luxuries were products of crime instead of old-fashioned hard work, but that didn’t make me want to scope out their tools any less.
“Let me guess. You wanna see the shop?” He tilted those sunglasses down a few inches to eye me, and I swear I broke out in goose bumps.
I shook my head, hefting my backpack over my shoulder. “No. Let’s get this over with.”
With a nod, he turned and led me to the plane. It was white, with dark-blue stripes that flowed from the nose to the tail.
He ran his large hand along the body of it in reverence. “She’s a Cessna 206.”
It was a decent-sized plane. It had six seats and some cargo space, and I could hear the pride in his voice when he talked about it.
“I’ve already completed the run-up checklist. I’ll get the door for you.”
I watched with fascination as he removed the chocks from the wheels and helped me inside. In the cargo area he loaded his camera equipment and some surveying tools.
He handed me a headset as he turned on the engine, flipping lots of switches and adjusting instruments and looking completely at ease.
“So we’ve got a nice long runway here,” he explained. “And we taxi for a bit while I adjust and gain speed. We need sixty miles per hour to rotate and eighty-five to climb out.”
