Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(15)

Four other pilots had joined the group. I recognized them only vaguely. They were part of the younger generation of pilots, and I knew they were friends with Damien and Murphy, but I couldn’t recall any of their names.

“He calls her the one that got away every time he gets really trashed,” Damien said in an amused voice, making me start. He was just behind me.

I turned to give him a slight smile.

His voice was pitched loud enough for the large group to hear, but he seemed to be speaking to me. “He doesn’t even remember her, but he says he trusts even his drunk judgement enough that, if she inspired a tattoo in one night, she must have been ‘the one.’ Every time he goes on a rant about how he hates being single, he blames Lola’s damned temper.”

I looked at Murphy, laughing. He had a sheepish, good natured-grin on his face. It sounded like something he’d say, and he didn’t deny it.

“Where was this?” I asked him.

“Melbourne, Australia. I bet she had a sexy accent,” Murphy said in a dejected tone.

“We all know how much you love sexy Australian accents,” one of the pilots added, sending everyone into new peals of laughter.

“Hey, now.” Damien said, raising his hands. “Don’t drag me into this. I’ve been with Murphy for years, and he has yet to get a tattoo for me on any part of his body, sexy accent or no.”

“Now we know for sure he’s never slept with you,” Marnie interjected. “If he had, there would be a Damien tattoo somewhere on his body, I can attest. One night, and I had to check the urge not to brand you on my ass.”

Loud hoots and hollers followed her brazen announcement, Murphy laughing the loudest. His laugh was particularly infectious.

I had to give Damien a second look. I’d have sworn he was blushing.

“Don’t think I haven’t tried,” Murphy gasped out, still laughing. “He’s just about the prettiest man I know. Prettier than at least half the women I’ve been with. But I can’t even get a cuddle when he’s drunk.”

Our laughter was loud enough that even in the boisterous bar, most of the people were staring our way.

That was about the time James strode back inside.

I was standing closest to Damien, though we were still a good two feet apart. And I couldn’t stop laughing, even seeing the storm that immediately overtook his lovely features at the sight of us standing near each other again.

I knew that he had a problem with Damien. He seemed to think there was something between us. I just didn’t understand why. I’d known Damien for years before I’d met James. If we had shared a real interest in each other, obviously something would have happened by now. I understood Damien’s appeal, but he just didn’t do it for me. I had more…exotic tastes. I thought that all should have been very obvious to James, so it was hard to humor his strange dislike for one of my good friends.

James strode to me, looking much too fine even in a pique.

I marveled, as I did much too often, at how beautiful he was. His longish, sandy brown hair fell artfully out of his face as he walked. The chiseled muscles of his arms and upper body were clearly defined by his thin shirt. His clenched jawline was perfection. His mouth was almost bow shaped but held too firm of an edge to be pouty, though it sure was pretty. His arched eyebrows and thick lashes were a shade darker than his hair, drawing attention to his vivid turquoise eyes. His nose was straight and flared appealingly at the tip, sitting just right in his unrivaled face. He was simply beautiful. He was in no way feminine, but the word handsome just couldn’t do those refined looks justice. He was long and lean, but in tight fitting clothing, it was clear that he was well muscled, rather than thin. He’s perfection, I thought absently. What is he doing with me? Was always my follow up question.

He moved in close beside me, but didn’t touch me.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” he said quietly to me, his voice strangely empty.

My smile began to fade.

“The arrangements have been made,” he said shortly. “You’re all mine, whenever we finish up here.”

“What about you two? You look like you’re hot enough about each other to break out the ink. When are you going to tattoo your names on each other?” Marnie called out to James and I, smiling and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I sent him a sidelong smile.

He gave me the tiniest smile in return. “It would be a waste to mar her perfect skin just for a little ink,” James said. “But I would happily get a Bianca tattoo, if that’s what she wants.”

I arched a brow at him as the crowd erupted, shouting encouragement for the folly. I’d seen James’s body. He didn’t have one tattoo, so he was just messing with them, of course.

“You wouldn’t return the favor, Bianca?” Judith called out, sounding aghast.

I shrugged, giving James a narrow-eyed glare. “I guess if he got a tattoo for me, I’d let him pierce my ni**les,” I said more to him than the crowd. But the crowd absolutely roared at the joke.

He ran his tongue over his teeth in that mouthwatering way of his. He held out a hand to me, as though to shake. “You have a deal, Love. Please, shake on it. Nothing would please me more.”

Someone sounded like they choked on their drink just behind me. I heard Stephan shouting something along the lines of, “What the f**k, Buttercup?”