A Daring Journey

by Jeanne St. James

  Oh yes.

  Now she completely understood it.

  Of course, it was because it was a man.

  But not just any man.

  A. MAN.

  In uniform.

  Tall. Dark. One with total panty-melting potential.

  And the dark part wasn’t just his hair. While that was black and trimmed neatly and tightly against his head, she was talking about his complexion. He was almost as dark as Gia.

  Almost, but not quite.

  He wore a pilot’s uniform and a friendly smile surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee as he thanked the passengers exiting. Gia was next in line.

  Don’t touch him, girl. Don’t. I don’t want to see you taken down by some air marshal and have to get Gryff to get you out of a jam.

  Hands and feet to yourself. Tongue, too.

  Please don’t lick the pilot.

  Wait. Was she warning Gia or herself?

  Gia stopped in front of the man, doing a very obvious and thorough head-to-toe-and-back check. The pilot grinned, the corner of his dark brown eyes crinkled, and he gave her a deep and delicious, “Thank you for flying with us.”

  Gia actually visibly quivered in her very-inappropriate-for-flying high-heeled boots.

  After a few seconds of Gia remaining in place, the pilot lifted his dark eyebrows and his grin slipped.

  Mac could almost understand the look of fear the man was obviously trying to mask. Gia was probably looking at him like he was a chocolate lava cake and she was on a strict sugar-free diet.

  “Gia,” Mac warned her in a hiss.

  Gia dismissed Mac with a wave of her hand over her shoulder.

  However, Mac saying the woman’s name had drawn the pilot’s attention. Oops.

  “I hope you fly with us again,” the man said in a dismissing tone to Gia as he stared at Mac. His dark, full, very kissable lips widened into an open smile. It was big, seemed genuine and was so bright, Mac almost lifted a hand to shade her eyes.

  Damn.

  “Of course,” Gia grumbled and violently yanked her rolling carry-on out of the plane and onto the ramp with a curse. “It’s those damn freckles.”

  As Mac moved forward with her eyes glued to his, she watched in fascination as words began to spill from those luscious lips. “Thank you for—”

  She gasped as she got slammed in the back and knocked forward. The pilot caught her before she accidently face-planted on him.

  “Come on! I have a flight to catch,” griped the man behind her.

  With a hand to Mac’s elbow and another on the handle of her carry-on, the pilot tugged her to his side so the impatient man could pass. It was so tight in that spot that Mac felt the need to suck in her gut just to squeeze in.

  “You okay?”

  Holy moly, that voice. Deep, rich, smooth as blackstrap molasses. Now that could be compared to Barry White.

  Heat spiraled through her...

  “Want to see my cockpit?”

  ...then exploded from her center.

  “Let’s get out of the way,” he suggested.

  Mac’s mouth gaped open and before she could respond, she and her bag were pulled into the cockpit. There wasn’t much room in there, either. Especially after he closed the door behind her.

  In fact, they were almost chest to chest. Except that wasn’t exactly true since he was much taller than her. Much taller. Chest to stomach was more like it. And he was pretty damn broad shouldered to have to work in such a tight spot.

  He cleared his throat and her gaze rose, landing just above his collar on his pronounced Adam’s apple.

  It bobbed when he said, “Let me introduce myself. I’m Damon Brooks.”

  Mac closed her mouth, swallowed, then told his sexy throat, “Mac.”

  “Mac?”

  She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head, trying to knock some sense back into it. “MacKenzie Donovan.”

  She finally lifted her eyes, to see not only his grin, but amusement making his dark brown eyes twinkle.

  “The name fits you,” he murmured.

  She tilted her head and grinned back. “So does yours.”

  His lips twitched. “Touché.” He studied her for a long moment, then his brows pinned together. “You look familiar.”

  It didn’t seem to be a pick-up line, he seemed serious.

  “Maybe I have a doppelganger out there somewhere. You probably see thousands of people every year with your jet-setting ways.” Though, she only hoped her doppelganger had much better hair.

  “Hmm. No,” he said slowly, concentrating even harder on her face which made her want to squirm. “No, I’ve seen you somewhere before. Not as a passenger. Do you live in Boston?”

  Should she answer that? How many pilots were serial killers? She should ask Google, just to be safe. “In the area, yes. Do you?”

  “I do. Maybe I’ve seen you in the city.”

  “I try to avoid the city.” Which was true.

  “Me, too. I prefer quiet when I’m not working.” He put his hand on his jaw and tapped his finger against his enticing, broad, very suckable lips. Especially that bottom one.

  Damn, she’d like to tug on that one with her teeth. After sucking on it, of course.

  His head snapped up and his eyes widened. “Now I remember! I messaged you and never got a response back.”

  “Umm... You messaged me?” What was he talking about?

  “You aren’t on the Boston Singles app?”

  Oh shit. Should she deny it? “I... umm...”

  His delicious lips flattened out as he pulled something from his back pocket. Crap. His cell phone.

  Mac’s heart raced as she watched as his long, neatly manicured fingers tapped at the screen. A few swipes up, a few swipes right and voila! her own face was looking back at her. She was staring at her own profile pic on Boston Singles.

  Busted.

  At least that pic was taken on a good hair day. Though, every freckle across her face beamed like a melanin beacon.

  “Umm...”

  “That’s you.” His tone held a tinge of accusation.

  “Umm...” Shit. “I didn’t want to be on the app,” she said quickly. “My best friend forced me to. Don’t take it personally, I haven’t messaged anyone back, not just you.”

  “So, you remember my message.”

  Crap. She didn’t. She hadn’t wanted to join a singles app. Gia had forced her to over a year ago. After the last alpha-hole she was dating dumped her.

  She had only joined to shut her up. While she had skimmed some of the messages—most were unbelievably inappropriate—she never responded to any of them. Even the hot guys who had a decent profile. She just didn’t believe they were real. Otherwise, why would they need to be on a singles app? If their profile wasn’t fake, wouldn’t they have been snapped up by a woman already?

  Of course, they would. Or so she told herself to push aside the guilt of ignoring all three hundred of her private messages. Or it had been three hundred the last she checked. Which was months ago.

  A couple more swipes later, he held out his phone to her. She reluctantly took it and read his message.

  It was well-written, polite and a dick pic wasn’t attached to it. A rarity.

  The grammar and spelling were on point. Another rarity.

  Without looking at him, she clicked on his profile and scanned it quickly. Oh yeah. Another profile she felt was too good to be true.

  I mean, c’mon, a hot pilot who was single? Pfsst.

  She lifted her head and handed his phone back to him. His long fingers brushed against hers, causing a shiver to slide down her spine. “If it’s any comfort, I did notice you. There are so many fake profiles...” Lame. “Then I noticed on your profile you were bi and open about it.” She did remember that part. That had definitely stood out in his description.

  He arched a brow. “You’re against a man being open sexually?”

  “No, but there are enough women out there I need to liv
e up to, I don’t need to add in the rest of the population. I’d go into any date with a bisexual man at a disadvantage, since you’d be comparing me to both sexes.”

  His mouth dropped open for a second, then he tipped his head back and laughed.

  Mac licked her lips as she watched his throat arch and his wide shoulders shake with each deep, sexy chuckle. When he was done, he asked, “That’s what you think?”

  She shrugged and gave him a small smile. “That’s what my neurosis thinks. Since I never dated someone who is bi, I can’t confirm that notion.”

  “You never dated anyone who is bi that you know of.”

  Good point. “True. You got me on that.” She quickly took inventory of the men she had dated all the way back to junior high. Had any of them been bi? Hmm.

  He glanced at his cell phone again. “Sorry to cut this enlightening conversation short, but I have another flight I need to prepare for soon.” He tucked his phone back into his back pocket of his well-fitted uniform slacks. The ones that hugged what looked like very powerful thighs.

  Thighs she’d never see, or feel, or ride. Damn it.

  She went to turn but he grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place.

  His fingers squeezed slightly. “I’d like to finish this conversation at a later time.”

  Not a question, but it sounded more like a demand. Even so, what was there to continue?

  “Possibly over coffee.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Or a dirty martini.”

  How had he known?

  “When it comes to martinis, I normally prefer lemon drops. It’s Gia who likes them dirty.” Mac cringed on how that came out.

  He dipped his head, still amused. “Lemon drops, then.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “I need your number.”

  Again, not a request, but a demand. However, she wanted to ask, why? Why was he interested in her? She was boring. And not nearly as gorgeous or exotic looking as Gia. Why had he focused his attention on her instead? Gia was the one always on the search for a man. Or men, to be truthful, since she was determined to find not only one, but two.

  “You can send me a message on the app,” she suggested.

  “The app you don’t respond to messages on,” he said flatly.

  Yes, that was the one. “I’ll turn on the push notifications for your profile so I don’t miss yours.”

  He clearly didn’t believe her, which was confirmed when he asked, “Promise?”

  No. “Yes, I promise.”

  His eyes slid to the closed door. “Your friend is probably worried about you.”

  Not worried, but waiting impatiently. Probably with her phone glued to her ear as she tapped the toe of her high-heeled leather boot with annoyance. Or Gia could be flirting with any handsome guy in her vicinity.

  It could go either way with her.

  Damon—it was nice to think of him as something other than “the pilot”—reached past her and unlatched the cockpit door, swinging it open.

  The pull of his uniform shirt over what seemed to be some well-developed muscles caught her attention. Especially with the way the crisp white fabric emphasized the deep color of his skin. She lost her train of thought.

  Until he smiled in amusement once again.

  Damn.

  She shook herself mentally. “It was nice meeting you. And thank you for landing the plane safely.”

  His lips twitched. “Anytime.” He lifted a hand.

  Mac stared at it stupidly as it hung there between them. What... Oh.

  Good lord, she was losing it. She clasped his hand and his fingers curled warmly around hers. Those long, strong fingers. Instead of shaking hers, he gave her hand a firm squeeze.

  Something deep inside her squeezed, too.

  Then he went through his spiel, his deep voice washing over her, “Thank you for flying the friendly skies with us. It’s been a pleasure to serve you and I hope to service you in the future,” making her squeeze her thighs together and her nipples bead painfully.

  Wait. “What?”

  “I said I hope you fly with us again.”

  Before she melted in an embarrassing puddle at his feet, he released her hand and then raised it in invitation for her to exit the cockpit.

  She unstuck her feet and moved forward after grabbing her carry-on’s handle. As she yanked her bag with her, he called out, “Hey, MacKenzie...”

  The plane was now empty except for some cleaning staff who were collecting garbage and putting away blankets and pillows. She twisted her head to glance back at him.

  “I really want to get to know you.”

  While that sounded sincere, she still wondered why. She could only nod in answer.

  “And I want you to get to know me,” he added.

  Wasn’t that how it worked?

  “To facilitate that, I’ll give you this little tidbit that isn’t in my profile.”

  Oh, here it comes. He was going to tell her how many inches was packed into his pants. That’s what most of the app’s messages she had received included. Some of the men even held a ruler next to their erections in the photos they sent to prove they weren’t lying.

  “My favorite color is red.”

  Her hand automatically went up to her hair, but she dropped it quickly when she realized what she was doing. A wave of heat burst into her cheeks.

  Damn.

  She took one last look at him to add him to her memory bank for later.

  Grae and Gryff, move the hell over.

  Chapter 2

  Mac closed her gaping mouth as she followed Gia into a very, very large house. A mansion, one might call it. On a lake. With a pool. And it was decorated in steampunk-style, which was unexpected, but really interesting and different.

  As they wandered through the expansive house, they began to hear voices. One very deep and enchanting and one not so deep. Female.

  The first one sounded like Grae. The other the new mom. Grae’s wife or partner or whatever she was.

  Mac had left her car in long-term parking at Boston Logan Airport while she had visited Gia in Arizona. So she offered to drop Gia off at Grae’s house and pop in to say hello to Gia’s brother since she hadn’t seen him in ages. And to refresh her fantasies for future use.

  Once again Gia stopped short just like she had on the plane and Mac barely avoided crashing into her. Before she could complain, Gia knifed a hand up in a silent command to hush.

  Mac’s ears perked as she tried to hear what Gia did.

  “Gia’s coming to help.” Yes, that sounded like Grae, though Mac hadn’t heard his voice in a long time.

  “Gia. Your youngest sister Gia? Are you sure that’s who you mean?” The female, who she could only assume was Paige, sounded not only exhausted but exasperated.

  “Yes, Paige, Gia.”

  She was right. The female voice belonged to the new mommy.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You trust your newborns with her?”

  Mac cringed on Gia’s behalf, even though the question was a valid one. She wasn’t sure if she’d trust Gia with twin babies, either. Though, the woman had matured a lot in the last couple years. But it had been a long-time coming.

  With a determined stride, Gia continued to the open-arched entryway of the room where the voices were coming from.

  Mac noticed more steampunk décor and a lot of bodies. Six in fact.

  Gia cleared her throat and all eyes turned toward her.

  Grae cocked a brow at his youngest sister and said, “I guess you heard that.”

  “What do you think?” Gia snapped. “I came to help and this is the thanks I get.”

  “We appreciate your help, Gia,” a man Mac never met said. He was holding an infant in his arms and bouncing it up and down.

  “Well, at least someone does,” Gia grumbled.

  Mac was totally confused as her eyes slid over the two men flanking the woman in a chair with a second baby in her arms.

  Okay, ye
s, Gia said Grae had twins. So that equaled two babies. Right?

  Right.

  But...

  Something was off. She blinked to clear her vision.

  But as her mouth opened to ask questions, Grae moved forward and enveloped Gia in his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. “We’re happy you’re here, sis.” He lowered his voice just enough so Gia and Mac could hear him. “She’s overwhelmed. We’re overwhelmed. Any help is appreciated.”

  Gia hmm’d but gave her big brother a return hug.

  “Hey, Big Mac, it’s been years,” Grae greeted her and moved in for a hug.

  Oh. Yesss. She tried not to let her eyes flutter and make it too obvious she was sniffing his scent when he gave her a friendly squeeze.

  Grae kept a broad hand on her shoulder as he turned and pointed toward Connor. “That’s Connor and our wife, Paige. Connor’s holding our son Reed. Paige is holding our daughter Rylie. Con, Paige, this is Gia’s former college roommate and long-time friend, MacKenzie. Lovingly known as Big Mac.”

  Mac winced. “Only by your family. No one else calls me that,” she quickly corrected.

  Paige gave her a little wave since she was busy nursing Rylie, while Connor approached with Reed in his arms, bouncing the fussy baby.

  “I thought Gia said you had twins?”

  A snort came from across the room and she recognized the source. Trey Holloway. Or now Trey Holloway-Ward from what had been announced awhile back in the news when there was a big to-do about the famous quarterback’s legal name change. Uber conservative football fans of the Boston Bulldogs not only were turned on their ears, but they turned their back on Trey himself, burning his jerseys and worse. Even after he had a major hand in bringing home the World Championship back to Boston. All that was quickly forgotten by those so-called fans.

  Connor gave her a big, welcoming smile and extended one hand. Mac shook it as he said, “Yes, they’re twins.”

  Mac’s eyebrows knitted together. “But...” Should she point out the obvious?

  Surely the others in the room noticed what she did, and she wasn’t imagining things?

  Gryff pushed off the wall he was leaning against, gave Gia a hug and a kiss before also giving Mac a hug. Damn, she was scoring more today than she had in months!