Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,54
a plain black T-shirt, gripping a carry-on bag in one hand and holding a newspaper tucked under one well-formed arm. He lifted an eyebrow at me.
I threw a horrified glance at Adesola and saw her sly, feline grin grow as she greeted Nick.
There was no way he missed what she’d said.
I aimed a warning look at her, but she ignored me. We both knew what she’d done, and that she’d done it on purpose.
She’d somehow gotten it into her head that Nick and I would be perfect together and hadn’t stopped dropping little hints. And now, a bigger one.
“I think you should give him a go, sweetie,” she opined after Nick dropped us at the hotel after dinner. “I don’t know anything about the sheriff you’re dating back home in that sleepy little town. But I never hear you mention him, and this man here seems like he knows what’s what. I think he could be the one to wake you up, Sleeping Beauty.”
I ignored her as we stumbled onto the elevator, both steeped in exhaustion. “There’s ancient history between us. And he screws a different, tight-bodied tax bracket now,” I pronounced, then hastily added, “not that I’m interested anyway.”
Adesola clearly had other ideas. I didn’t miss the light that flared in her eyes when Nick advanced toward me, so close his leg touched mine as he stood in the aisle.
Damn he was tall, especially in a plane this small.
He stared down at me with a small little smile, saying nothing. I looked back, silent, determined not to fill the air with all the nervous energy running through me.
“Hi,” he said finally, his voice gravelly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hey,” I returned, neck craned to take in the darkening stubble on his neck, the deeper shadows under his eyes. His hair had endured a marathon of tugging and raking, I deduced as I took in the wild, unkempt strands. He braced a hand against the compartment above, his shirt rising just enough to allow my eyes to play peek-a-boo with the dark whorls of hair on his tightly muscled stomach. God, when had he gotten that hairy? Was he that hairy everywhere? Did he have one of those delightful happy trails? And why the hell was it turning me on?
I realized I hadn’t done a good job of schooling my wayward eyes when his smile evaporated. Something hot and dangerous entered his expression.
“Heard you missed your flight. This is an unexpected treat.” His gaze took a lazy course down my seated body, flicked back to my chest and stayed. “I like it.”
“Huh?” Dear God, I sound like an idiot.
He gestured to my chest with his head. “Your shirt. I like it.”
I glanced down. I’d never been one to dress up for a flight. My twin loved to harangue me about it, always going on and on about “the least I could do.” Well, today I’d done the absolute least. I wore a pair of dark joggers and athletic shoes. The halves of my cable knit sweater had fallen apart to reveal a pink shirt that said . . . Oh. It said, Nevertheless, She Persisted. Now that I thought about it, it might have taken too many turns in the dryer. Maybe it was a little too snug. Jesus.
Heat stung my cheeks as I met his gaze again. He appeared to be fighting back a smile.
I squared my shoulders. “Yep. I like it too.”
Who knows how much longer we’d have stared at each other, silently, if Adesola hadn’t piped from behind him, her voice overly loud in the cabin of the small plane.
“Hi, Nick!”
He turned, appearing startled. “Dr. Rojas, hi.”
I half-listened as they politely chatted about the previous evening and how she’d slept.
And then he was suddenly back in my space, passing in front of me and settling in the seat next to me.
“Uh. You’re sitting here?”
He busied himself with pulling an iPad and red folder out of his bag. “That okay?”
No. “Sure.”
The flight attendant returned, whisked his bag away and took his drink order.
“So.” Adesola’s smile was full of mischief, and I swallowed back the impulse to club her with my Kindle as I scented trouble on the horizon. “Nick told me a little about his childhood in Green Valley. I learned things I’d never known about you, too.”
I turned and found Nick leaning toward me, his elbow on the armrest between us. “The good old days,” he said, and I wondered what was behind his flat tone.