Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(39)
Kevin: XOXO all over
Margie: Waiting up for u w cold beer
Kevin: nice! send photo Margie: Of coors light?
Kevin: of u naked Margie: No, use your imagination Kevin: roger. gotta check in now, babe. Kisses Margie: Luv u
Kevin: u 2 ;-) Kevin smiled, pocketed his phone, and headed over towards the gate that had “Flight 2262 LAX–HNL: On Time” illuminated above the check-in counter. He looked around at the near-empty terminal and checked the time: 6:47 p.m. He had arrived early for his 9:15 p.m. flight and looked forward to putting on his headphones and relaxing to some classical music for the first time in a while.
Kevin recognized the slim brunette ticket agent at his gate as soon as he spotted her. Tess. Her dark skin and long, slightly wavy black hair that reached down to the middle of her back were a perfect complement to her bright smile and pretty features. Close to thirty, she still showed off the athletic remnants of being a collegiate swimmer in the form of a tight body, something every man within fifty feet took notice of.
“Hi, Tess,” he said.
Tess stopped what she was doing, looked up at him, and greeted him with a smile. “Well, hello, Captain.” She looked him up and down, and a look of snarkiness overtook her as she noticed his unusual attire: sneakers, jeans, and a button-down Hawaiian-style shirt along with an LA Dodgers baseball cap. “Wow, someone’s letting their hair down,” she said in reference to his normally streamlined and stoic captainly appearance. “Will you be joining us to Hawaii tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, I will.” Kevin smiled back at her, leaned on the counter, and handed her his buddy pass, the airline employee equivalent of a general admission ticket. Even if his flight was sold out, the buddy pass allowed him to sit on the fold-down jump seat in the cockpit. The jump seat was small, and the two-person cockpit was overly snug when a third person rode along, but it got the job done.
“Damn,” Tess said. An exaggerated pout appeared on her otherwise perfect face. “Wish I was going to Hawaii. I did my friend a favor and traded flights with her.” Her almond-shaped green eyes looked right at him. “Now I’m sorry I did that. Your flight crew has a three-day layover in Hawaii, and a three-day layover with you would have been fun.”
Gulp. Kevin’s heart skipped a beat. When she turned on the charm, she had the ability to make him feel like a nervous freshman, and despite his allegiance to Margie, his brain shut down and Margie was but a faint thought. Excitement churned in his stomach like a runaway freight train, and his mind was consumed for the moment by Tess.
“Yeah, that would have been fun.” Kevin felt guilty about his enticement and tried to be nonchalant. “But don’t worry, I have a feeling I’ll be passing through these parts again soon.”
“How long are you staying in Hawaii?”
“Seven days.”
“Wow, nice.” She smiled at him and leaned over the counter to get closer to him, her face just inches from his. “Hey, I’m on break in about twenty. Can I buy you a Coke before you leave on your little holiday vacay? Your flight’s not leaving for a while.”
“Uhm, not tonight. I, uh, have some work to do before we board,” he lied, and stepped back slightly to create some distance between them. He was on the verge of caving in and needed some space. “But I’ll take a rain check.” He followed up his rejection with a thousand-watt smile.
She leaned in closer. Some of her hair brushed against his face and feathered his nose as he inhaled. He closed his eyes and savored the moment. He thought of Margie. Guilt came, he inhaled, and the guilt disappeared. God, she smelled so good.
“You know,” she whispered in his ear, her breath warm and perfect, “we can go to the pilots’ lounge. I’ll show you my tattoos.”
Tattoos were a common thread between them, and they discussed them often. “All of them?” he replied, his nonexistent impulse control once again rearing its ugly head and sabotaging his potential relationship with a member of the opposite sex. What was he doing?
“Every. Single. One.” She punctuated each word, and Kevin felt his composure wavering.
Thinking of Margie, he sputtered, “Oh, man. I’d love to, but it’s just not a good time. Sorry.” And with a meek shoulder shrug, he waited and looked at her with a sheepish smile.
With a deep sigh, she looked down at the papers in front of her and finished her work. It was clear to Kevin that she wasn’t used to being rejected by the opposite sex and that she didn’t take it well. After a few seconds, she regained her happy demeanor and smiled at him as she handed him back his buddy pass with his seat assignment. “Have a great flight, sir.”
“Thanks.” He took his buddy pass, grabbed his bag, and rolled it away. He fought the urge to look at his seat assignment to see if she’d stuck him in the ass of the airliner, next to the bathroom.
After finding a seat far enough away from Tess so that he could focus on his work, he broke out his laptop. Since FAA regs mandated that airline pilots could only fly one hundred hours per month, they didn’t really work that much. Most wound up flying eighty-five to ninety hours per month. That left them with plenty of free time for a pilot’s two favorite pastimes—getting drunk, and chasing women. Plural.
Kevin had decided early in his career that it was in his best long-term financial interest to have just one wife rather than supporting a handful of women who would eventually collect alimony from him. So to keep himself busy, and out of trouble, he’d opened an Internet store that sold pilots’ supplies: sunglasses, watches, and other miscellaneous items that pilots found appealing. That had worked out well up until a few months ago—the one wife part, anyway.