Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,50
good day, very busy,” Stormy replied as she took her first bite. Yep. Delicious.
“Really? What did you do?”
Stormy played with the food more than she ate it as she tried to form words on her seemingly swollen tongue. When his foot touched hers beneath the table, she visibly jumped before locking her feet to the floor. She didn’t look up at him this time, knowing she would see that same confident smirk on his face. She chose not to react to his blatant touches.
“I got a job today,” she said.
“Really? That’s great.” He didn’t seem to be anything less than genuine, which made her continue.
“Yes, at a diner here in town,” she told him. “The Devoted Kiss Café.”
“I’ve eaten there a lot. They serve a great panino,” he told her.
“I will have to try a few of them so I can let the customers know what’s good,” she said. “I know it’s just a waitressing job, but it’s a paycheck,” she added.
“A job’s a job,” he said, already halfway through his steak. She’d only had a few bites of hers.
His foot swept across hers again, this time drifting over her ankle. She looked at her steak like she was expecting it to come alive and begin mooing at any moment. She pushed herself back a little bit so it wouldn’t be so easy for him to keep touching her.
“Well, there are certainly some better than others. I used to want to design jewelry,” she admitted.
He didn’t say anything and she was curious enough to glance across the table at him. The interest in his eyes made her glow inside whether she wanted to or not.
“Really? That’s fantastic,” he said. She was shocked by his reaction.
“Most people I’ve ever said that to sort of roll their eyes,” she said with a laugh, like it didn’t really matter.
“Why? You obviously have talent,” he told her.
“How would you know that?” She didn’t share her designs.
“I’ve seen your sketches in the garbage can,” he said with a wink.
She gasped. “You’ve dug through the garbage?”
“I’ve been trying to figure you out. You’re very secretive.”
“It’s just a dream. A silly one.”
“I think we all start with a dream. It’s those who are brave enough to make their dreams realities who change the world.”
She sat there considering his words, and then she smiled. Wouldn’t it be amazing for her dreams to actually come true? Suddenly embarrassed to be the center of attention, she decided to change it back to him.
“I’m sure flying jets is pretty exciting.”
He paused as if knowing exactly what she was doing. But thankfully, he allowed her to get away with it.
“Yes, I’ve loved to fly since I was young. I’d go with my uncle Sherman a lot and I got the bug. My brothers and I all did.”
“You have brothers who fly, too?” she said. “Dang, you must break quite a few hearts.”
“Nah. We don’t have a lot of time for women, not more than a night. There’s a difference between being in a committed relationship and having a woman for a night. You either choose to fly or you choose a life,” he said.
“There are lots of pilots with families,” she told him.
“Yeah, and there’s a lot of cheating pilots, too,” he said. “I wouldn’t ever want to live that way.”
“You don’t have to cheat if you don’t want to,” she scolded him.
“I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t not be able to cheat,” he told her, setting down his fork. “I’m just saying I’ve seen a lot who do. I’ve never had a desire to commit myself.”
“Sounds like a lot of guys I know,” she grumbled.
There was a moment of silence between them and then he laughed, surprising her again.
“How many men have you been with, Stormy?”
The question made her choke on the bite of potatoes. After a moment, she was able to get them down and then took a nice long swallow of wine.
“That’s really none of your business,” she finally said.
“Why not? I think we would be great together,” he said, leaning a little closer to her. “Imagine the two of us on a nice firm bed . . . or a really hot shower . . .”
He trailed off and then went back to eating as if he hadn’t just turned her knees to jelly. She looked at her plate as she tried to figure out if he was messing with her. The chances were that no, he wasn’t. Showers and beds were obviously his MO. Crap. Staying with this