Page 20 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

I took another drink before I nodded. “Yep. They are kind of desperate for pilots up there. I thought it would be a great way to log hours. And it’s really pretty country up there.”

“You flew charter up there?” Laser asked.

“Yeah. Floatplanes, ski planes, bush charters, the whole circus. Mostly tourists. Guys with fishing rods and beer guts trying to look rugged. Sometimes I would fly people that needed to get to a hospital.”

“That’s hardcore,” she said, raising her bottle. “Respect.”

“I loved the flying,” I said, leaning back. “But I wanted more than just carting people around to hunt and fish. I wanted to do something that mattered. This job is exactly the kind of flying I always dreamed of. I’ve always wanted to do something that would help people. And I’m not going to lie; I like the danger. I’m kind of an adrenaline junkie.”

Laser nodded slowly. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I never would have taken you for a serious pilot. When I first saw you, I thought you were a little…”

“Girly?” I asked. “Prissy?”

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “No offense.”

“No worries,” I said. “It’s my thing. I like people to underestimate me.”

The server returned with a tray piled high with food. The smell of fried goodness hit me like a delicious wave. My stomach growled in anticipation as she set down the plates. I did try and eat clean, but I had a feeling ordering a kale salad in this group would be a disaster. Not that they would serve something like that here.

I ogled the chicken wings glistening with sauce, a mountain of nachos dripping with cheese and jalapeños, and a basket of onion rings that looked like they’d been fried to perfection. My mouth watered instantly.

“Dig in,” Laser said, already reaching for a wing. “You’ve earned it.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed a wing, the sauce sticky on my fingers, and took a bite. The flavor exploded in my mouth. It was spicy, tangy, and just the right amount of heat. I groaned around the bite, nodding at Laser. “Oh my God, these are amazing.”

She laughed, wiping sauce from her lips with a napkin. “Told you. Best wings in town.”

I reached for an onion ring next, the batter light and crispy. I dipped it into the special sauce. It was basically just mayo and ketchup, but it was amazing. “Okay, this sauce is dangerous,” I said between bites. “I could drink this stuff.”

“Careful,” Laser teased. “You’ll ruin your appetite for the nachos.”

As if that was going to happen. I grabbed a chip loaded with cheese, guacamole, and sour cream, shoving it into my mouth with zero shame.

“Why do I think this is not your normal fare?” Laser asked.

“It’s not that I don’t like this stuff, but no. I do on occasion, but I try to stay healthy.”

“Me too.” Laser shrugged.

Someone cracked the break at a nearby pool table. The cue ball clacked sharply.

I swallowed the bite of nacho. “So what’s Dalton’s deal?”

She smirked. “Ah. We’ve reached that part of the conversation.”

I raised my brows. “What part?”

“The part where you pretend you’re asking about him professionally, but really, you want to know if the broody fire god is single.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “Come on. I just want to know who I’m working with. He’s a hothead. And it’s pretty clear he doesn’t like me.”