No Matter What (The Billionaires of Sawgrass #4) - Delaney Cameron Page 0,61
a subject she wasn’t ready to tackle. A chrome-bodied plane with a bright yellow nose and tail was making its approach. Along with its distinctive paint job, its design declared it to be from a bygone era.
“It’s a North American P51 Mustang,” Reece told him. “It belongs to a friend of my dad’s. Scooter performs in air shows. He’s returning from one in Tennessee.”
“His plane is super cool. It kinda looks like a rocket.”
“It feels like one when you’re flying it, too.”
The plane touched down on the runway and taxied to the Diamond Jet hangar.
“Let’s go down and meet Scooter,” Reece suggested.
Owen was all for that.
Sylvie laughed as she and Robin followed the other two at a less frantic pace. “Reece was hoping Scooter would get here before you and Owen left. The P51 has something of a cult following among airplane enthusiasts. Reece has been trying to get his hands on one for years.”
By the time the two women made it to the tarmac, Owen was already sitting in the cockpit. Reece was standing on the wing answering questions. Scooter was checking something on the undercarriage of the plane.
“Hey, Scooter,” Sylvie called out.
The older man looked over his shoulder, a wide grin appearing on his tan, weathered face. “Howdy, darlin’. You’re looking as pretty as ever. Has that young man of yours declared himself yet? If not, I might have to steal you away.”
“Try to behave for once,” Sylvie said, smiling widely. “We’ve got company. I’d like you to meet Robin Parker. She’s Owen’s aunt.”
The man nodded in her direction. “It’s indeed a pleasure to know you, Robin.”
“It’s a pleasure for me as well. Your plane is beautiful.”
“Thank you. Lucky Lady and I have been together for going on twenty years.”
“Have you been doing air shows that long?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He lowered his voice a little. “I’ve tried to get Reece to join me, but he’s too busy flying those fancy modern jets. It’s a waste of talent, if you ask me. There was none better at maneuvering away from enemy fire than him.”
“What are you saying about me, Scooter?” Reece asked.
“Nothing I ain’t said to your face a hundred times.”
Robin reached for her phone. “Do you mind if I take a picture of you with Lucky Lady?”
“Not at all.”
Scooter posed by the nose of the plane. Robin took some pictures of Owen as well. They would be added to the scrapbook she’d started for him.
As Owen climbed down from the wing, he said, “Aunt Robin! You should come up here! It’s awesome!”
Robin smiled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Are you sure?” Reece asked. “How many times in your life will you get a chance to sit in a plane that flew combat missions in World War II?”
Owen jumped up and down. “Do it, Aunt Robin! It’ll be fun.”
She couldn’t refuse him or Reece. “Okay,” she said, pocketing her phone. “You guys talked me into it.”
Reece lifted her up as easily as if she’d been Owen. Not that she needed a demonstration of his strength. He’d already provided that when he carried her from the dock to his father’s house. The part of the wing on which they were standing was neither level nor very wide. This left Robin pressed against him from shoulder to ankle. She imagined the three on the ground would have a hard time determining where Reece ended and she began. The thought sent heat rushing into her cheeks.
If Reece noticed anything, he didn’t show it. “Halfway there,” he said into her ear.
Following the urging of the hands at her waist, she swung first one leg and then the other over the side of the plane. From there, she slid jerkily into the narrow opening of the cockpit.
“There’s not much room in here, is there?” she asked in a voice that fit the definition ‘out of breath’.
“It’s even more claustrophobic when the canopy is down.”
She indicated the instrument panel with its rows of gauges and dials. “How in the world do pilots fly the plane and still pay attention to all this stuff?”
“Because they spend hours in a simulator before they ever leave the ground.”
“I wonder how many pilots have sat in this seat.”
He smiled suddenly. “I don’t know, but none were as beautiful as you.”
The color that had finally begun to recede from her face returned. Her eyes fell from his. “Thank you. Sylvie said you’ve been trying to buy one of these.”
“Trying is right. Flight-worthy P51’s are hard to come by. Out of the