Page 36 of Third Strike Smitten

“What? I’m just making conversation," I say innocently.

He snorts. "Conversation my ass. You're flirting. With the flight attendant. In front of everyone."

I shrug. "So?"

"So, you never flirt with flight attendants. At least, not where people can see you." His eyes narrow. "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. And our last flight attendant was literally pregnant with another man’s baby. Why would I flirt with her? And Padrick is…well, Padrick. I love the guy but I don’t swing that way." I take a sip of my Coke, avoiding his gaze.

“Bishop's right.” Carter’s voice drops even lower. "You've been different since she showed up. More relaxed. And you’re actually smiling."

I shift in my seat. "Maybe I'm just in a good mood."

"Kill, you haven't been in a good mood since the season started,” my brother reminds me.

"Maybe I'm just tired of being miserable," I snap, immediately regretting my tone when Bishop's expression shifts from teasing to concern.

"Hey, I'm not trying to give you shit," he says, his voice softer now. "I'm just... surprised. In a good way."

I nod, taking another sip of my Coke. "Yeah, well. Don't get used to it."

"Too late," he grins, settling back in his seat. "I'm already planning your wedding."

"Fuck off," I mutter, but there's no heat behind it.

As the flight continues, I find myself watching Isla more than I should. There's something magnetic about her, something that makes it impossible for me to look away.

When she comes around with the snack cart, I'm ready for her.

Her eyes narrow the minute she looks at me. "No."

"I didn't even ask anything yet."

"Whatever it is, no."

The guys nearby are openly listening now. "That's hurtful."

"Mr. Haynes, you're exhausting."

"It’s Killian. Mr. Haynes is my dad, and I've been told I'm charming."

"Not by me."

I press my hand dramatically to my chest. "You wound me."

"Yet somehow you keep surviving." By now she's fighting a smile.

The team notices.

I notice.

Everyone notices.

And that's exactly the point.

It’s not enough to make anyone suspicious but just enough that they're paying attention.

When she stops beside my row one last time before she prepares for landing, I glance up at her. "Hey, Isla?"