Chasing Carly (Holiday Cove 3) - Page 70

She smiled up at me. “For the record, you’re the only one falling asleep at nine thirty.”

“Hey!”

She giggled again and then rubbed her head on my chest, nuzzling me. “A vacation does sound pretty sweet though. Where would we go?”

“Everywhere,” I said, only half kidding.

“Okay, for starters, then.”

“London?”

“Ooh!” Carly perked at my suggestion. “Did Aaron give you a big raise that I don’t know about?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Naw, but I have some cash saved up for a rainy day.”

Carly lifted her head and stared into my eyes. I wished I could peek inside her pretty head and figure out what she was thinking. “We’ll see…”

I groaned. “Come on, Carly. Don’t do that again.” She stiffened and tried to scoot away but I grabbed her by the hip, stilling her. “Hey, hold on. Talk to me.”

The alarm cut in—right on cue—and I swore under my breath, distracted just long enough for her to pull away from me. She shuffled to the side of the bed, killed the alarm, and then stood up and gathered the clothes I’d stripped off her the night before.

I’d told her she could have a couple of drawers in the dresser but she’d turned me down.

“Baby, come back to bed.”

She snapped her bra in place and shrugged into her black t-shirt. “You know I can’t. You can’t either.”

She was right. The air show was days away and the F-4 still had some last-minute details to make sure everything was perfect. Aaron was taking things in stride, never letting the cracks show in his demeanor. Still, I’d learned to read him pretty well over all the hours we’d spent working together over the past couple of months to know he was stressed. If I had a chance at getting a permanent position at the museum, I needed to make sure the F-4 was primed to perfection.

I shoved out of bed, striding across the room butt-ass naked to the adjoining bathroom. When I came back to the bedroom minutes later, Carly was lacing up her Converse sneakers. “Am I going to see you tonight?” I asked, trying to contain my frustration and keep my tone neutral.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, standing from the edge of the bed. She tossed her blonde and pink hair into a high ponytail and fixed it in place with an elastic band. Her eyes wandered as her fingers worked. She was avoiding me.

“Carly—”

“Gotta go!” She said, stopping to press a kiss to my cheek before running out the door. I didn’t bother chasing after her as her footsteps faded down the hall. Seconds later, I heard the front door close.

Great. Back at square, fuckin’, one.

“What do you think?” I asked, the anxiety pulsing through me as I waited for Aaron to get a little closer. He’d just exited the F-4 after taking it up for the third test flight of the day. His face was grim as he approached and my gut wrung tight, waiting for his list of things that still needed adjusting. I was exhausted after working two fourteen-hour days to get it ready. And if the look on Aaron’s face was any indication, it looked like this day was about to go a helluva lot longer than fourteen.

Aaron stopped in front of me and after a terror-filled beat, a grin broke out across his face. He held out his hand. “We did it! We fucking did it!”

“Yes!” I pumped my fist in the air before accepting his handshake. Aaron tugged me in for a one-armed embrace and when we separated, we were both grinning like idiots. “The throttle didn’t rattle?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Smooth as fuckin’ butter!”

I let out a low whistle. “Thank God!”

Truthfully, I’d run out of ideas on how to fix the damn thing. As he’d gone up for the final work up, I was on the ground mentally going through every last idea and theory to have a suggestion ready for him when he landed. The panic had set in when I realized that I’d exhausted all my ideas. I was a damn good mechanic, but I’d been ready to pronounce the F-4 a lost cause more than once.

“Just in time too,” Aaron said, glancing over his shoulder at the runway where the F-4 sat gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “I gotta get the thing to Santa Cruz tomorrow afternoon.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Shouldn’t be a problem!”

Aaron stared at the plane for another long minute and it dawned on me what he must be thinking about. “Your old man would be proud,” I said.

He gave a firm nod, his jaw set tight. “He would.”

Aaron turned back around and we went into the hangar. He told one of the other pilots to taxi the plane back inside and lock up. I arched a brow at him. The museum would be open for another hour at least. “Adams and I are going out for a drink!”

Tags: K.B. Winters Holiday Cove Romance
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