Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  “I’m going to close my eyes and try to quell the panic that you’ll hate it.”

  “I’m going to watch it and love it.” Parker hoped it was true, and a moment later, she felt a rush of delight that she wouldn’t have to feign enthusiasm for his work. His gift for framing shots from unique angles told stories in a single image and evoked powerful emotions. This was a quality of work movie producers hoped for, far beyond anything she’d seen in the reality show and soap opera camera operatives.

  “Guy, you shouldn’t be hiding talent like this on an island no one’s ever heard of.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  “I’m not being kind. I’m being truthful. Do you have more?” She could talk shop with him. They could be two professionals in conference, and she wouldn’t be bored and alone, and maybe …

  He rose to his feet. “I’d better get Booster home and take him for a walk. I’ve taken too much of your time already.”

  Parker’s heart sank. “Oh. Right. All right.” So much for the idea of a pleasant evening sharing a common interest together. “I need a good nap,” said Parker with an exaggerated yawn. Her stretch awakened the tight skin on her arm and hip, and she grimaced. “I’d ask you to stay longer, but—”

  “No, no. It’s late.”

  “Please tell me you’re not busy all day tomorrow.” The desperation in her own voice startled her, and she bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to impose. Why had she let that slip out?

  Guy tugged Booster from the bed, and then turned to her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I’ll reschedule my appointments if you let me take you flying.”

  “Oh, please don’t make me,” she whimpered. The pleading look in his eyes caused her to relent. “Who’s flying? You?”

  “I can, if you want, but my dad is more experienced.”

  “Right. You’re born and raised here. Have you got a bunch of family around?”

  “Just Dad and my Uncle Bob. Mom left us when I was a little kid.”

  Parker nodded as if intrigued by the family dynamics, but inside she wrestled with fear. She knew she should be more adventurous, and a plane ride could be fun. If his dad was there, she wouldn’t have to worry about another kiss. “Hold my hand if I get scared?” Why had she said that?

  Guy chuckled. “I’ll tell him to cut the engine every ten minutes.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “A little fear, you can handle. I know all about that.” He winked. “You’d never kissed a man with beard before, either. You’ll survive this.”

  Parker bristled. Was he patronizing her? “Says the man who was afraid to greet your adoring fans.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’re all afraid of something.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Parker stiffened and backed away. “What? What do you mean? I’m not governed by any fears.”

  “Sure, you are. You’re afraid you won’t succeed.”

  She blinked slowly. “Well, duh. Isn’t everyone?”

  “Yes, but you are the one who should be defining your success. Somewhere along the line, you gave that power to someone else, and it scares you every day.”

  Parker narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not playing into my parents’ little fairy princess fantasy. I’m my own woman.” Maybe he saw her as a fluffy pink princess, too. Hadn’t he called her Cinderella and a few other tiara names?

  “You’re a woman, yes. But are you defining your own success?”

  “How do you define success?” she challenged.

  He hesitated and met her eyes. Drawing a breath, he seemed to search her soul. “I would say … using my talents in ways that make me and others happy and earning enough in the process to keep me and my loved ones well-provided for. Granted, right now, that just means me and Booster, but I could afford to take on a few more.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you want?”

  Guy did not answer with words, but his eyes spoke volumes, challenging her to step out of her comfort zone and try romance.

  Parker’s breath hitched. Her attraction to him terrified her, and she blurted out, “Well, I’m not afraid of flying. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  His cheeks reddened. “Excellent. Hangar 14 just down the road.”

  She lifted her chin. “No fear.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He stood and patted her knee gently. Then he left her, closing the door with a quiet, “Goodnight, Daisy.”

  Disaster #10 ~ The Clay Pigeon

  Guy bolted into the hangar. “Dad! Dad, I got her to take a flight!” He stopped, scanning around for his father. “Dad?”

  “Turbulence ahead!” screeched Tilly.

  “Dad!”

  Clay poked his head in through the metal door on the opposite side. “What’s all the ruckus?”

  “Dad, she said she’d try flying.”

  “Wait, is this the same girl?”

  “Of course! Who else would it be?” Guy strode forward. “I managed to talk her into it.” He hesitated, remembering how she had accepted. More like conquering a challenge than seeking time with him.

  “Uh-huh. Are you planning on taking her up?” Clay punched Guy’s arm. “No necking in the back seat with the plane on auto-pilot.”

  Guy rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I don’t think that’ll happen.”

  “He’s only crashed twice!” confirmed Tilly with a squawk.

  “Dad, you’ve got to shut Tilly up when she gets here. If that bird says—”

  “Beeeeeeeeep! Beeeeeeeeeep!”

  Guy stared at Tilly as blaring fire alarm noises emanated from her beak. If a bird could look smug, she had mastered the expression. “She’s censoring my comments now?” With a flourish, he swept the quilt over the cage. “Hush up, Tilly.”

  “Does this ‘she’ of yours have an actual name? I don’t remember you telling me.” Clay wiped his hands clean on a corner of his shirt and reached for a water bottle from the mini-fridge that doubled as a stand for the copy machine.

  “Daisy Parker, Dad. Will you please be on your best behavior?”

  “You sound like a teenager.”

  “I feel like a teenager.” Guy clapped his hands to his head, surprised he’d admitted it aloud. “I’m probably coming across as a total dork. The Music Geek trying to impress the girl voted Most Likely to Succeed, but Dad, she makes me want to step out of my comfort zone and try harder.”

  Clay smirked and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, she managed to get you to give a recital. She must be pretty special. I repeat: are you taking her up?”

  “I was kind of hoping you could, Dad. I mean, I’d be with you, in the back. I want to watch her reaction, you know?”

  Chuckling, Clay took a swig of water. “Keep an eye on the scenery, huh?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “You owe me some help around here if I do.”

  “I’ll clean Tilly’s cage. I’ll organize your desk,” offered Guy.

  “No deal. Tilly will shred you, and I won’t be able to find anything. Don’t worry, I’ve got some mechanical things to do.”

  “Not on the plane, though, right?” Guy’s expression changed to one of concern. “It’s in top flying shape, right?”

  Clay shrugged. “Eh, nothing I can’t handle mid-flight.”

  “Dad.”

  His father gave him a long, appraising look. “Are we checking this lady out while she checks out the islands?”

  Guy swallowed, understanding the code. “Let’s see how she handles the regular flight. I don’t want to scare her away.”

  “We all have to put our fears on the table sometimes,” said Clay.

  Guy gave an exasperated sigh. “I know, Dad.”

  “Have you?”

  “Sort of. I’ve dropped very heavy hints.” He knew how his dad felt about being cryptic, so he spoke in unison with Clay. “It’s better to be direct.” Guy bobbed his head. “I know. She’s very di
rect.” He thought about how candidly she’d shot down the idea of romance, and deflated a little. Maybe the beauty of the islands from an aerial view would lure her to stay a little longer.

  Or maybe no amount of fantastic scenery could make up for his inadequacies.

  Clay studied him a little longer and then cleared his throat. “What time is she getting here?”

  “We didn’t actually …” Guy swiveled to point out onto the tarmac. “Wait, I think that’s her coming now.”

  Parker pulled up to the smallest hangar at the Orcas Island Airport, a tiny air strip designed for Cessnas and historic bi-planes. Guy was already waiting inside with Booster, who sported a pair of puppy goggles. She smiled at this despite the residual frustration from the night before. Was he trying to say that even a dog was braver than she was?

  “Booster’s flying with us?”

  Guy laughed nervously. “No, no. Not this time.” He turned and gestured to a man standing in the doorway. “Dad, meet my new friend, Daisy Parker.”

  She smiled at the near-carbon copy of Guy with longer, steely-gray hair and shorter whiskers.

  “Daisy. Pleased to meet you.” The man took her hand in a calloused, firm grip. “Call me Clay. It’s nice to meet any friend of Guy’s.”

  “It’s nice to be a friend of Guy’s,” she replied, pouring on her Hollywood-shmoozer charm. “And now I see where he gets his bristly good looks.”

  “Oh, that old line!” He waved away the compliment. “Ready for an air tour?”

  “That’ll be fifty bucks an hour! Cheap, cheap, cheap!” cried a voice from behind.

  Parker arched a brow but reached for her wallet. Was Guy just drumming up business for his dad, then?

  “Hush up, Tilly!” grouched Guy.

  “Beeeeeeeeeep Beeeeeeeep!”

  Booster broke into a barking fit.

  Pinching her ears shut, Parker searched the walls for the fire alarm. Instead she saw Guy rush over to a large bird cage sitting on the corner of an old metal desk. He knuckled the wires and the sound stopped abruptly.

  “Enough, Tilly!”

  The large parrot inside harrumphed like an old woman and squawked, “That’ll be fifty bucks an hour!”

  Parker burst out laughing. “That was a bird?!”

  Guy gave a thin-lipped grimace. “She learned to make her new sound effect last Christmas. She’s been a total pain in the neck ever since.”

  “Let’s get out of here before she sets off her sirens again,” said Clay, slapping Parker on her left arm.

  She managed to turn a gasping wince into a strained smile. “Yes, let’s!” Following him through the hangar, she tried hard not to admire Guy’s casual air. In a dark green hoodie, boots, and jeans, he could pass for any anonymous millennial going for a hike, not a man with myriad creative and practical talents.

  “You going to be all right?” he asked, placing his hand in the small of her back as they passed through a door to the tarmac on the other side.

  Was he mocking her fear? She opened her mouth to spout something cocky but stopped short, staring at the tiny craft in front of them. Its beige paint job had thinned in several places, and she counted at least three large dents on the driver’s side wing. The words Clay Pigeon splayed in curly, brown letters across the main body of the craft. She pointed. “I see evidence of a few close encounters.”

  Guy ran his fingers over one of the dents. “Oh, those.” He chuckled dismissively. “Yeah, no worries.”

  Parker tapped her foot in a don’t-lie-to-your-mother stance. “You going to enlighten me?”

  “Probably better not. Come on. In you go.” He opened the passenger side and slid the front seat forward. “Actually, I need to climb in back.”

  Parker resisted the urge to smack his behind. Irritation and fear mixed uncomfortably in her stomach.

  Once in place, Guy pulled her seat into place. Clay boarded next to her, pointing across at her door. “Fasten the bar down tight. Barf bags are right there in the compartment.”

  Parker turned to face Guy with flared nostrils. This is not helping, she mouthed.

  “You won’t need it,” assured Guy.

  Parker gave an involuntary shudder and bolted the bar as tightly as she could. After wrangling with the safety harness, she snatched the barf bag and opened it with a flourish. “Just in case.”

  Clay winked and busied himself with checking the instruments. He pulled on a headset and began speaking in flight jargon with a control tower somewhere. Parker figured it must either be up in a cloud, or imaginary because she had seen no such edifice anywhere.

  Guy tapped her shoulder. “The headset is right there. Put it on.” He demonstrated. “It gets really loud. With the headset, we can speak normally.”

  Parker put it on just as Clay engaged the engine and began rolling forward. Banter from the flight crew in the invisible tower gave instructions and clearance. She removed the headset and leaned back to Guy, yelling over the rumble. “Is there a channel I need to switch it to? I’m hearing all the tech stuff.”

  Guy shook his head. “We can hear the tower and incoming talk, but they can’t hear us. Only Dad’s microphone goes out. Ours is an internal intercom.” He gestured with his fingers. “Put it on.”

  She sighed and tugged the headset back on.

  “You’re kind of cute when you’re nervous.” She heard Guy’s whisper in her ear, and turned around again and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Yes, I like that, too.” His penetrating smile and the flirtatious gleam in his eyes made her giddy until she remembered that he was just trying to make her feel stupid for being afraid of flying.

  Drawing her finger across her neck, she hissed, “Don’t make me kill you and toss your body in the Sound.”

  Guy feigned deafness. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  Parker threw up her hands and faced the front. “Oh, for the love of peanut butter.”

  “Ready, Miss Daisy?” Clay nudged her arm with his elbow.

  “Ow!” Parker grimaced in pain. “Yes, sir.”

  Clay chuckled. “Oh, it won’t be bad. I’ve been flying these islands for years. Used to do special courier services and whatnot.” He spoke over his shoulder at Guy, even though the headset carried the sound. “She afraid of flying?”

  Parker straightened. “Not in commercial flights. I’ve just never gone up in anything this small.”

  “Piece of cake. Same movements. They only feel bigger because we’re smaller.”

  Nodding, Parker closed her eyes and focused on breathing slowly and tuning out the voices on the headset. She felt the plane make a few slow turns, and then gradually gather speed. Her stomach lurched as the rattling noises changed abruptly. Every little bump seemed to bring back a memory of one more stupid disaster relating to this getaway.

  Clay’s words rolled around in her brain like untethered cargo in a fast-moving truck. The turbulence only felt big because the plane was small. Maybe the problems and emotions of the week only felt big because the time spent was so small. A microcosm of drama.

  She exhaled with relief. Yes, that had to be it. That’s why she’d been such a mess. She could dismiss the attraction and the hurt now that she realized they were only magnified because of the getaway’s short span.

  It was time to be brave and gain some bragging stories to share with … She shrugged that thought away. No one came to mind.

  Opening her eyes, she saw pale blue rising above her as they climbed into the sky. Clay banked the plane right, and she caught a glimpse of the ground falling away rapidly. “Wow! It’s like being in the world’s biggest carnival ride!”

  “Good way of describing it,” agreed Guy. “Are you doing all right up there?”

  “I’ll be all right,” she snapped. The plane leveled out, and Parker positioned herself better to see. “There’re so many islands! It looks like a giant hand shook green paint from a brush, and the drops splattered down to make them.” From the ferry, she had seen only simple mo
unds of rock and trees, but from above, she could admire the unusual shapes of each island.

  “There sure are a lot of little inlets on the islands,” she observed.

  “Yes, those are great for kayaking. Loads of wildlife.”

  “Don’t push it, Guy.” Even as she resisted the idea of being in a tiny boat, the pristine coves called to her. Maybe she would try a kayak trip. But not in this weather. And not with her sore arm and hip. That would mean coming back in the spring or summer. Would Guy be willing to take her then? His reassuring presence made such feats seem possible.

  She instantly scolded herself. Daisy Parker didn’t need anyone. She could take on new challenges by herself, without someone tagging along, holding her back, and distracting her with kisses that … With a shudder, she tried to shake the memory of his touch away.

  “I know!” grunted Clay, as if she had been reacting to something spoken through the headset. “Can you believe the nerve of that guy, making fun of my paint job?”

  “No comment, Dad.”

  Parker stared out the window. “So where is the whale watching? I heard you can see real killer whales up here.”

  “Yes, three pods hang out in the Sound locally, though they may have moved on for the season,” said Guy. “We get some transient pods wandering through year-round, though. And some humpbacks.”

  “The local ones are pretty cool,” added Clay. “They come by a lookout point on San Juan Island like clockwork every day between about three-thirty and four. I used to take Guy out there to watch them when he was a kid. When he got bigger, he’d even kayak out there with them.”

  Parker turned and stared at Guy. “You get stage fright at a little recital, but you kayak with killer whales.”

  Guy shrugged. “I can’t help what I’m afraid of.”

  “Weird.”

  An awkward silence followed, and Parker feared she had offended Guy. Before she could apologize, though, Clay began his tour. “That little one is Clark Island State Park, only reachable by boat. And the long, skinny one is Lummi.”

  Guy helped with details. “It’s got some more nature reserves and a marine center.”

  “No airstrip, though,” complained Clay. He continued pointing. “Sinclair, Mendovi, Samish coming up on the left. Cypress and Guernes on the right.” He haggled further with the command stations to get permission to fly a little lower than usual. When he dropped altitude, he explained. “I want you to get a really good look at the neighborhood.”