Page 80 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

29

DALTON

Isat at my usual spot at the far end of the table, nursing my coffee and trying to focus on the scrambled eggs on my plate instead of the blonde sitting three seats down. Janna was laughing at something Pickle said. The sound made my chest tighten and my cock twitch.

Don’t look. Don’t fucking look.

I took another bite of eggs and forced myself to tune into Wild Bill’s story about some rescue mission from last season. But even as I nodded at the appropriate moments, my peripheral vision kept drifting to her. She’d pulled her hair up in a messy bun. I could see the curve of her neck where I’d kissed her yesterday. Where I’d left a mark that was probably still there under her collar.

“Earth to Dalton,” Gilbert said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You even listening?”

“Yeah,” I lied, taking another sip of coffee. “Rescue mission. Got it.”

Across the table, Janna caught my eye for a split second. The look she gave me was casual like she was looking at any of the other guys at the table. Just like we’d agreed. But I could see the heat underneath, the memory of yesterday afternoon flickering in those blue eyes before she looked away. I knew that look. It was her “fuck me” look. When she wanted me inside her she would look at me just like that.

Fuck. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“So anyway,” Wild Bill continued with the story I was pretty sure I had heard before.

“More coffee, Dalton?” Janna’s voice cut through the story as she stood up with the pot in her hand. She was making rounds, topping off everyone’s cups. Normal. Casual. Nothing to see here. I hadn’t even noticed her get up from her spot at the table. I had been so focused on ignoring her. And it worked. And then she was there, with that citrus scent that had me craving oranges.

“Sure,” I said, pushing my mug toward her. Our fingers brushed as she took it. I felt that familiar jolt of electricity. She felt it too. I could tell by the way her breath caught, just barely. It was foreplay, I decided. The secrecy. Stolen looks. Soft touches. It was all foreplay. I just hoped the next time I got the chance to fuck her, I was able to get my fucking pants off. Yesterday we had been like teenagers.

She filled my cup and moved on to the next person like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been bent over her bed twenty-four hours ago, crying my name into the mattress.

I watched her move around the table, playing the perfect teammate. Smiling at everyone’s jokes, asking Cheryl about her weekend plans, listening to Tyson complain about his ex-wife. She fit in so easily, like she’d been part of this crew for years instead of weeks.

That should have made me happy. Instead, it made something dark and possessive twist in my gut. I wanted to be the one making her laugh. I wanted her attention focused on me, not scattered across the room like fucking sunshine.

Shit, I was losing it. I was the one who pushed her away. It had been the right thing to do, but the rightness of it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“You okay, man?” Pickle asked, leaning closer. “You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

I forced my expression to relax. “Just tired. I never sleep well when I’m here.”

And that was true. But I wasn’t going to tell him that the main reason I couldn’t sleep was because she was a few doors down and I couldn’t have her. I thought about her in her bed. My mind had drifted from ways I could break in and climb into her bed without Laser knowing, to what she was wearing. Did she sleep naked? Or would she wear one of those little thongs I kept tearing off her?

“Yeah, well, get some rest while you can. Weather is supposed to get rough the next couple of days.”

I nodded. “Great.”

“All crew to the briefing room,” Chief said as he strolled in.

I pushed back from the table and carried my mug to the sink. Chairs scraped against the floor as people abandoned whatever they were doing and headed down the hall to the briefing room.

The briefing room filled quickly. I took my usual spot near the back, arms crossed, watching as Chief waited for the last stragglers to file in. Janna slipped in just before he started talking. She found a seat near the front, close to Laser.

“Alright, listen up,” Chief said. “I just got off the phone with dispatch. We’ve got a high-pressure system moving in from the west, and it’s going to collide with the low-pressure system that’s been sitting over the mountains.”

He gestured to the weather map he’d pinned up next to the fire maps. “What that means for us is dry lightning, erratic winds, and probably multiple starts all at once. Could be tonight, could be tomorrow morning. But when it hits, it’s going to hit hard.”

Everyone in the room was quiet. It was the familiar tension. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. I didn’t think anyone was breathing. Dry lightning was a nightmare scenario—all the electrical activity that could spark fires, none of the rain that might put them out. And erratic winds meant unpredictable flight conditions, dangerous drops, and fires that could change direction without warning.

And my first thought was for Janna’s safety. I pushed it away. I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about her. That had been the whole point of cutting off any emotional entanglements with her. It was impossible to do my job well if my only concern was Janna.

“For now, we wait,” Chief continued. “But I want everyone on standby. No one leaves the base. No alcohol. Get some rest if you can but be ready to move at a moment’s notice. When this storm hits, we’re going to be busy.”

Gilbert raised his hand. “What’s the timeline looking like?”