like a ritual at the bar.
I’d been doing it my whole life...watching crowds that belonged together congregate before my eyes and feeling like I didn’t belong. I’d left the bitterness behind with my schoolgirl age. It was a whole new world for me. As an adult, I realized I had a choice to mingle and try to find my own people or blend, and due to my bitter beer and peanut explosion, I decided that night to blend.
Dutch never had company. In the years I’d been playing at Anchor Park, I’d never seen a single person sit next to her. I was used to the noise she made, but when I saw a pint-sized woman with a loud mouth echo next to her, I almost blew my first pitch. That had never happened...until tonight.
I glanced over my shoulder to see she was still there. She looked comfortable but alone. I studied her for a spell. Her blonde hair was a mess under that red hat. Underneath were large doe eyes and suckable, plump lips. I’d watched her chest heave when she’d panicked and saw a perfect quarter sized set of nipples strain against her tank.
I’d spent the first twenty minutes at the bar trying to ignore the image of those nipples and failed.
“You pitch like that this season, there’s no stopping you,” Andy said as he sipped his beer and looked in the same direction I was with a smirk. “She’s out of your league.”
“And you think that because?”
“She has manners. She said crud, not shit. She’s reserved and doesn’t have her legs spread. Not your type.”
“Just because you have a hard-on for your help doesn’t make you a saint,” I said with my own smirk as Andy’s face hardened. He glanced over at the bartender, Kristina. Relief covered his features as he realized she hadn’t heard then he gave me his death glare.
“So you changing your mind or what? You still have good years left.”
“Nope, this is it, so you better make it good,” he quipped. “As soon as you get the call, I’m out.”
“You’re just going to brew beer and run this bar for the rest of your life.”
“I’ve played my seasons. It’s time,” he said with conviction.
“You’ll miss it,” I stated with the same certainty.
“Maybe...Fuck, I know I will.” He shook his head in aggravation. “My mind’s made up. Let it go. The focus is on you this season. They’re going to call.”
“Let’s just put it out there,” I said, aggravated. “This is my last—”
Andy cut me off with a look of understanding and his signature “Fuckin’ A.”
I clinked glasses with him and turned back to look at the blonde who made me more curious by the minute.
“Fuck it, I’m going in,” I said as I finished my beer and set it on the bar.
“Too late and it’s a good thing,” Andy said with authority as I looked over my shoulder and caught her walk out the door. “This season, no distractions.”
After a week of preflight instructions came the fun part. Locked in the cabin of the simulator, one by one I repetitively guided each pilot through the basic steps of the dashboard, detail by detail. Exhausted by the first few hours, I almost didn’t recognize the mouthwatering hint of cologne and deep blue eyes of the newest pilot who took the seat next to me.
“I read your flight log. Pretty impressive,” he said as his eyes roamed over the controls with familiar confidence before landing on me.
I smiled in welcome. “Thanks.”
“Trey,” he said, extending his hand to me.
“Call me Alice,” I said, giving him a brief but firm shake.
“Al-ice,” he said with appreciation as he gave me a broad smile.
“The first thing you need to know,” I said as I pointed out protocol, “is—”
“I’ve done my homework,” he said as I lifted a brow. “How about I give it a try, and you let me know how I’m doing?”
I looked at him skeptically. “That’s not really the suggestion of—”
“Just give me a shot here,” he whispered while a different kind of suggestion played off his tongue. I finally took the time to appreciate him as we stood and switched seats.
“This is an eighteen million dollar plane, Captain,” I warned.
“I take care of my valuables,” he whispered, now in complete control. I studied his profile as he initiated flight with every step perfectly. His dark blond hair was combed back neatly. He wore a white dress shirt, dark khaki chinos, and tan boots. His flight skills were