“Of course the plane. What the hell did you think—” He broke off as a slow grin curved his lips. “You have one dirty little mind.”
“I do not.” That was the truth. Or it had been until a week ago.
He shifted his weight and crossed his arms across his chest.
His grin was worse than anything he could have said.
She felt like a fool, sitting on the ground at his feet. Standing, she kept her eyes off the fly of his Levi’s and off his bare chest.
She ducked her head and took her time brushing off the seat of her white shorts. God, please let him blame her red face on the sun. Unable to face him, she stalled, searched for the flip-flops she’d kicked off when she’d first gotten to the beach. She found them in the sand, right next to where she’d been sitting. Picking them up, she brushed off her right foot and was just about to put her flip-flop on when she lost her balance and wobbled. Jared’s hand instantly closed around her arm, steadying her. Heat that had nothing to do with the sun infused her.
Unnerved by his touch, she turned all thumbs. She fumbled as she tried to put on her shoe . . . tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d felt the strength of a man’s hand on her.
With more force than necessary, she shoved the second flip-flop on. The hard plastic bit the soft skin between her toes.
The minute she had both shoes on, he let go of her arm. “Now, can we talk about the Beaver?”
She finally met his gaze. While her insides were tied up in knots and her arm still tingled from his touch, Jared seemed completely unaffected. She should have been relieved. “Can you stop calling it that?”
“What should I call it?”
“Anything but . . .” She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, say it.
“The Beaver?”
She glared at him. “You needed something?”
“The plane is due for an oil change, and during yesterday’s flight, Zeke noticed the hydraulic flaps seemed a little slow to respond.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Big surprise.”
His comment pissed her off. He had no idea how she and Zeke divided the responsibilities. “Zeke handles the maintenance on the plane. He’s the one you need to speak with.”
“I would, but he’s not here.”
“He has the day off. Not everyone deems it necessary to work seven days a week.”
“Five would be nice. Hell, at this point I’d settle for four.”
She clenched her jaw. “We don’t have any charters scheduled for today—”
“Big surprise,” he said again.
“We don’t have a charter, so there’s no need for Zeke to come in.”
“And we wouldn’t want to be ready in case someone called out of the blue.”
That had never happened before, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Then I would call Zeke.”
“Listen, sweetheart.”
God, she really hated it when he called her that.
“There’s a lot more to this business than just flying the plane. I don’t give a damn what you and your handyman do when I’m gone, but while I’m here, you’ll run a business like a business should be run. The plane will be maintained. And sunbathing”—the look he gave her made her feel like she was wearing the tiniest of bikinis instead of a pair of shorts and a tank top—“is not part of the job description.”
She hadn’t been sunbathing, and he knew it. And more importantly, the plane was impeccably maintained. Immediately following yesterday’s flight, Zeke had consulted with her about the hydraulic flaps. They’d both agreed that tomorrow, during the regularly scheduled oil change, he would also inspect the flaps. “At least I keep my clothes on.”
The moment she said the words, she wished them back.
He rocked back on his heels and rubbed a hand across his bare chest. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Then I’d suggest a hearing test.”
“What?”
“I said you need a hearing test.”
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
He was playing her. The jerk. “No one around here wants your opinions. Believe me.”
“You’d better start, or damn soon there won’t be a business.”
She turned and headed for the house. Why did she bother? Conversing with Jared was like the worst version of a “Who’s on First” Abbott and Costello skit. All they did was talk in circles, but even so, he always seemed to come out ahead.
Just as she reached the front porch, a car pulled into the driveway. Shielding a hand over her eyes, she looked up the hill and saw a silver Volvo. Fan-freakin’-tastic.