Ignite (Speed Series Book 1)(20)

Anything.





AS I SAT ON THE tan leather seat, I glanced out the window and took in a deep breath.

Holy shit. I can’t believe I’m flying on a private jet. Is this my life?

“Miss Morgan, would you like a glass of champaign before we take off?”

“No thank you. I will however take a beer if you have one?”

Giving me a perfect smile, she said, “Bud Light okay with you?”

“Perfect,” I said.

Less than two minutes later, the flight attendant returned with a bottle of Bud Light and a chilled glass. Taking the bottle, I said, “I’m a simple girl. I’ll go with the bottle.”

She let out a chuckle and said, “We’ll be taking off in about ten minutes.”

My knee bounced as I glanced around the private plane that was owned by Jack Elliot. There were three drivers on the Elliot Racing Team and from what I could tell, this plane was at their disposal any time they wanted it.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the seat as I rubbed my sweaty hands over my jeans.

“Are you are a nervous flier?”

The flight attendant had a soothing voice. I was half tempted to ask her to tell me a story while we flew from Austin to Tennessee. Opening my eyes, I gave a somewhat pouty face. “Yes. I’ve always been afraid to fly and being in this small plane is not helping any.”

Reaching her hand out, the flight attendant sat across from me. “My name is Tara.”

Instantly, I felt better. I wasn’t sure why, maybe it was her smile. Or her calming voice. Whatever it was, I knew I would be forever grateful for her.

A ping sounded across the plane. Tara gave me a wink and said, “Let me double check the flight crew doesn’t need anything and I’ll be right back. We are taxing and will be taking off here in a minute.”

My hands grabbed onto the arms rests as I nodded my head and said, “M’kay.”

Think something positive, Adaline.

Emmit’s smile when he saw me.

Emmit’s dimples.

Emmit’s gray eyes.

Emmit’s soft lips.

Emmit’s hands on my body.

Emmit’s perfect brown hair.

“Holy shit. What in the hell?” I whispered as I shook my head. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Emmit since he dropped me off at the hotel last weekend. Of course, it didn’t help that we had been texting non-stop since that night.

“Did you say something?” Tara asked as she sat and buckled up.

“No. Talking to myself.”

Tara smiled and began talking. “There are two guys on Mr. Elliot’s race team that are a bit nervous to fly. It’s pretty funny trying to calm them down.”

With a nervous chuckle, I glanced out the window as I watched everything fly past faster and faster. “Oh yeah? Which drivers?”

“Doug Adams and Emmit Lewis.”

My head quickly snapped back to look at Tara. She was looking out the window with a slight smile on her face.

“Emmit Lewis?”

Without looking at me, she nodded. “Yeah, he needs to be preoccupied when we take off.”

My heart dropped as I looked Tara over. Blonde hair pulled up neatly in a bun. Killer legs that went on forever. Blue eyes that sparkled when she looked at you. I quickly looked around the plane.

What if Emmit had screwed her on this plane?

In a chair?

Slapping my hands over my mouth, I looked down at the chair I was sitting in.

“Miss Morgan, are you feeling sick?”

I dropped my hands and shook my head as I said, “So what do you think of Emmit?”

Tara tilted her head and gave me a curious look. “Um, well he’s a nice guy. I don’t really know him all that well. If he travels by air, he is usually in his own plane.”

My mouth dropped open. “Emmit owns a plane?”

Tara laughed. “Yes! He’s like the second-highest paid driver in NASCAR. I mean with all of his other gigs he has. You know commercials and all that kind of stuff.”

“Oh,” I barely said. “So, um, when he does fly, what do you do to calm him down?”

Tara didn’t blink an eye when she said, “Texas Hold ’em.”

“Excuse me?” I said as my mouth dropped open . . . again. I wasn’t sure why I reacted that way. I knew it was a poker game, but in my mind all I heard Tara say was . . . I screw him until we both scream out each other’s names.

Shit. I need to snap out of this jealousy thing.

Tara’s eyes widened. “The card game! It’s just a card game. Oh, my . . . no it’s not what you’re thinking. Mr. Lewis has always been a gentleman. He likes to play poker when he’s nervous, that’s all.”

I waved my hand and played it off like I knew what she meant. “Oh, I knew that. I think I’m just unnerved right now.”

Giving me a sweat smile, Tara said, “Well, we took off and are flying. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” I said as I gave her a thumbs-up. “Doing great! No worries here. I am flying high.”

Tara narrowed her eyes at me and gave me a look of worry. Holding my hands up, I said, “No no no, that’s not what I meant. No drugs here. I am not flying high on drugs; I’m flying high in the air. On life. Happy as a clam. Doing wonderful.”