Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(29)
“We got in that new bathing suit line we ordered. The striped bikinis? They’re cute, right? I grabbed one.”
They were cute. A little preppier than what I normally wore, but definitely Sophia’s style. I trended toward kitsch and she was more elegant, but it gave the store an eclectic feel.
“Anything else?”
“I think we might need to hire some extra help before the summer if things keep going the way they are. At least for Saturdays.”
We’d kept our staff pretty small in the first couple years to minimize expenses. Sophia and I were both single so it hadn’t been that difficult for us to work all the time. Little by little, we’d grown the business to include a manager and five part-timers.
“I’ll put out some feelers and see if anyone is looking.”
Sophia grinned. “Okay, enough business talk. Let’s get to the good stuff. How was Vegas?”
I’d always been that girl. The one who bitched about guys with her friends over drinks. The one who sent frantic texts from the bathroom on dates with messages like, He invited me back to his place, but it’s only our second date, HELP. Sophia knew every single detail of my dating life; nothing was off-limits. So I was shocked when I heard myself respond with—
“It was good.”
“That’s it? Good?”
Good didn’t even begin to cover it, but I didn’t know where to start—although I was going to have to say something soon because I definitely needed her to cover me this weekend.
“It was a little better than good,” I hedged.
I didn’t know why I was being so weird about this. I could have just said: I met this really hot guy, and he was amazing in bed, and I think I like him. Like really like him. But I didn’t. I wasn’t ready for the questions; for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to dissect our every conversation or the meaning behind whether he held my hand or not. I just wanted to enjoy it.
I cleared my throat, ready to come up with some excuse for why I needed the weekend off, when two-dozen pink roses did it for me.
Our gazes whipped to the front door and the man walking into the store in a delivery uniform, holding a stunning bouquet in a vase. My heart clenched, unable to look away. I didn’t need to read the card to know who they were from.
Definite Chupacabra.
The deliveryman stopped in front of us. “Is there a Jordan Callahan here?”
I could feel my cheeks flaming, my stomach fluttering like a flock of geese had permanently taken up residence in my gut.
“I’m Jordan,” I squeaked, Sophia’s stare burning a hole through me.
I took the flowers and set them on the counter next to the register, my fingers itching to open the little white card in between all that pink and green.
“Good, huh?” Sophia’s brow rose. “I think you left a few things out.”
“Maybe a few.”
I couldn’t wait any longer; impulse control had never been one of my strengths. I snatched the card out of the bouquet, tearing open the little white envelope with the impatience of a child opening gifts on Christmas morning. I stared down at the writing, my heartbeat kicking up another notch.
I miss you.
It wasn’t poetry. It wasn’t even the most romantic thing a guy had ever said to me. And still, somehow, those three words did feel like the most romantic thing ever. Maybe it wasn’t about the words; maybe all that mattered was who gave them to you.
I turned toward Sophia, a smile on my face. “Can you cover for me this weekend?”
NOAH
She’d only spent one night in my hotel room at Nellis and yet she’d left her mark. When I walked in the door, I felt a pang of disappointment to not see Jordan sitting on the bed smiling at me. Housekeeping hadn’t changed the sheets since she left and I could still smell her shampoo on the pillow, her perfume surrounding me. Maybe it was those taunting scents that had made me send her that card with the flowers.
I’d debated whether it was too much to tell her I missed her this soon; it had only been a day, after all. But I did miss her. And while I’d spent plenty of years keeping my distance in relationships, not wanting to lead a girl on or create the impression that I was ready to give more than I could, it felt different with Jordan. Maybe it was getting older and being a little tired of dating, but I didn’t want to play games anymore. I wanted her, wanted to see where this was going, and I didn’t want to f*ck around.
I sat on the edge of the bed, unlacing my boots, pulling them off, another wave of exhaustion hitting me. My socks came next, and then I unzipped my flight suit to the waist, shrugging out of the top half, the familiar pull of the zipper conjuring images of Jordan kneeling in front of me in bed, the curve of her ass barely visible beneath the hem of my shirt.
I figured it would be a while before I could put on or take off my flight suit without thinking of f*cking her in it. I might have been tired, but other parts of my body decidedly were not.
I pulled my cell out of my flight suit pocket. It was late in Florida, but I’d promised to call Jordan when I got back from my sortie. I pulled her number up in my contacts and hit Call, hoping it wasn’t too late.
She answered right away.
“Hi.”
My chest tightened a bit at the sound of her voice—sleepy and adorable. We’d only spent two nights together, but I could still imagine her curled up in bed, her hair fanned out over her pillow.