Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Natasza Waters

  “Honey, you’re gonna have to be quiet for a little bit,” Dane said to Stephanie.

  Her constant tongue wagging sounded ten times louder in their ears.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She reached forward, patting his shoulder quickly. “I’m just so excited, Steven.”

  “Do you have to request clearance to depart from the tower?” Moira asked.

  He just about came in his pants when he heard her voice through the headset. She normally had a sexy voice, but something crazy happened when it flowed through the electronics. She knew just the right pitch to use to make it clear, but each word vibrated with sex. Christ, it was like seven years totally evaporated, and he closed his eyes for a second, remembering her voice on the yacht. When he opened his eyes to see the woman it came from, his heart stopped. Why hadn’t he gone to find her seven years ago? He suddenly realized it was the biggest fucking mistake he’d ever made in his life.

  He tuned the radio to the tower frequency. “You’re on, sweetheart.” He pointed at the chopper’s call sign and nodded toward a small card stuck in the side panel.

  She picked it up and read it quickly. “I know vessel traffic, not air traffic.” He grinned at her and shrugged. She didn’t skip a beat, keying the press to talk when she heard a pause in the radio communications. “Las Vegas Tower, this is helicopter Six-Three-Nine-Mike Lima, Atlantic Aviation, requesting clearance to depart, Sharp Delta for Sedona over.”

  An abnormally long pause silenced the frequency. He figured the controller and about a thousand other men shifted to rearrange the bulge in their pants that had suddenly grown. “Helicopter Six-Three-Nine-Mike Lima, squawk 0400 ident.” The controller’s voice came back with a huskier tone and dripping interest. Steven definitely heard the difference, and he knew Moira must have. She bit her lip and eyed him innocently.

  He activated the transponder to identify their craft. “Nine-Mike-Lima identing,” Moira advised.

  The controller came back, “Nine-Mike-Lima, you’re cleared to depart.” Then he added a traffic advisory and instructions. “Helicopter Nine-Mike-Lima, radar contact. Proceed via Sharp Delta. Remain west of the strip. Have a safe trip, ma’am.”

  “Roger, thanks.”

  “Have a safe trip my ass,” Steven murmured. He took one look around the cockpit. “That’s our clearance.” He engaged the craft, and they lifted into the air. He couldn’t help wondering if the controller was asking for a bathroom break to go jack off.

  He pulled them off the ground in a smooth lift and arced toward the strip. Within seconds, they hovered higher than the peak on the Luxor. He caught Moira looking to the sky for traffic conflict instead of the scenery. What a woman!

  * * * *

  Seeing the strip from the air, like everything else from the air, was very different. Steven took a slow pass, following a route between I-15 and the strip, obeying the tower’s instructions, then headed east toward the Grand Canyon.

  It only took them a few minutes to get to Hoover Dam. Steven flew at 2,500 feet, keeping out of the way of other helicopter traffic in the area. Steven flew the craft with no hesitation, always thinking before making an alteration, and in complete command. It made her insides curl knowing this all-together man saw something in her that he liked—a lot. Liquid heat poured through her body. The feeling reminded her of the excitement before Christmas morning when she was little, nearly unbearable.

  She glanced back at Stephanie, who wore a Joker-like grin plastered on her lips as her tongue flapped on high speed.

  The immensity and inspiring beauty of the Grand Canyon took her breath away as Steven flew them around the southern rim and across its massive ravine. The flat-topped layers grew in plateaus from the earth, dotted with sparse, hearty brush that defied the heat. A narrow winding river sliced through the stone.

  “Is that the Colorado River?” she asked.

  Steven nodded. “It cuts through thousands of acres of Kaibab and Hualapai Limestone. The power of time, sun, and water created the canyon walls. I don’t think anything can challenge its inspiration or its strength.”

  “Steven—” She grasped his hand. “That’s beautiful. Maybe you should write that down.”

  He winked at her. “I think I’ll leave that to you.”

  They banked to starboard. The constant whirl of the blades changed into background noise as Mother Nature stepped up to grab their attention, and the incredible wonder of the canyon swept by below them. “How can people not believe in God when they see something so beautiful?” she murmured. It wasn’t a question, only a statement of fact.

  Steven turned his attention to her with an odd look in his eyes. “I’ve wondered that, too.” He gazed at her with a warm smile. “Especially when I look at you.”

  Her peripheral vision caught a flash. She jerked her head at the same time, calling out, “Steven, two o’clock.”

  Steven’s attention swung from her instantly. “Jesus!”

  They didn’t have time to consider where the hell the other helicopter came from. Steven was on the right traffic pattern, this guy wasn’t, and they were in a crossing situation—closing fast. Both craft veered sharply to starboard, pinning them in their seats.

  Stephanie screamed in their ears. She clutched the door. They came so close the blades barely whispered by each other. She wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a “tink” of metal touching metal. Steven controlled the craft, and dove hard into the canyon. He leveled out as her heart thundered in her chest.

  “Fuck, that was close,” he murmured. His eyes opened wide when she keyed the mic.

  “Helo Nine-Five-Three Kilo Alpha this is Helo Six-Three-Nine-Mike Lima,” she called.

  Steven stared at her. “How the hell—”

  “Nine Mike Lima, Three Kilo Alpha, sorry, ma’am, that was too close. Got a trainee on board, our mistake.”

  “Roger, everyone’s still in the air, Nine-Mike Lima out.” She turned in her seat to look around. “Everyone all right?”

  “I think you just saved our fucking lives,” Dane groaned into his mic. “Nice flying, bro. Hey—Steff, it’s okay.” Dane wrapped an arm around her shoulders trying to comfort her.

  Stephanie burst into tears. Moira released her belt and knelt in her seat. “It’s okay, Steff. We’re fine. Hey, you can’t even pay for a ride like that in Las Vegas. You’ll be okay.” She patted her hand and gave Dane a reassuring grin.

  Dane nodded his thanks. “Fuck, you have nerves of steel, woman,” he said.

  “I’d say,” Steven agreed. “A quick pass like that and you remember the call sign? You just impressed the hell out of me.”

  He reached over to hold one of her hands, no doubt seeing it shake. When she buckled her seatbelt again, her eyes strayed to the air instead of the scenery below.

  “Good eyes, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  She nodded solemnly as Steven altered course, and flew to the east, putting the sun behind them. Another narrow escape, but this time it was Steven’s life at risk. Two more days, and her holiday, if that’s what she could call it, would be over. Steven would be safe, and she would be gone.

  “Where ya taking us, pilot?” Dane asked, his voice a little shaky. The close-quarters situation obviously scared the hell out of him as well.

  “A lodge in Sedona,” Steven replied.

  “Nothing personal, bro, but I think Steff needs to feel the ground under her feet again.”

  Moira twined her hands together in a tight ball.

  “Moira—”

  Maybe Steven wasn’t concerned, but she was. She felt his hand cover hers, giving it a warm squeeze.

  “Coincidence, Moira, trainees make mistakes.”

  Her finger gently brushed his knuckles. “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” she said quietly into her headset.

  Chapter Twelve

  They landed twenty minutes later in a cleared area west of the lodge. Terracotta-colored spirals grew out of the ground, and glowed in the falling light. The geography wa
s breathtaking. The sun, sitting just over the peaks, cast long shards of shadow across the plateau they stood on. He watched her take in the landscape, his heartbeat quickening.

  “We’ll catch up to you,” he said to Dane. In other words, get lost for a second. He pulled Moira into his arms. Every time he looked at her, a new image burned itself into his brain. He asked himself why this woman, out of so many, had taken complete control of his heart, but he couldn’t answer the question.

  “You should see your face right now.” He didn’t give her time to answer. His lips closed over hers. Fire leaped through his body when her arms wrapped around his neck. His hand slid to the hollow in her back, and he pulled her tight to his hips. Maybe their kiss turned into a feverish battle of tongues because they were happy to be alive, but he knew it meant a lot more than that, at least to him.

  She pulled away from him. “It’s amazing,” she said with awe.

  “My kiss or the scenery?” Her pink tongue darted to wet her upper lip, which made his pants even tighter.

  “Both.” She turned her attention to him.

  His fingers brushed the bangs from her eyes. Three days, that’s all it took for Moira to take his life and turn it into something incredible. He suddenly wanted to show her everything, give her everything. “God, Moira, I’m…” The words just about tumbled straight from his heart to his lips.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Shall we?” She stepped away from him and extended her hand.

  In no hurry to reach the lodge, she wrapped her arm around his, leaning into him. “So how many girls have you impressed by coming here?”

  It sounded lighthearted enough to him, but he sensed she really wanted to know—thanks to his idiot brother. “No one,” he said.

  They walked holding hands across the hard-packed ground toward the lodge. “I feel like I’m in my twenties not my forties.” He playfully grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her into the air, whirling her around.

  “Steven, put me down.” She squirmed to get out of his grasp. Swiveling in his arms once he’d planted her on her feet, she skewered him with a look. “You might be in your forties, but buddy—I’ve barely said good-bye to my thirties. Technically I’m thirty-nine now until I can’t lie about it anymore.” She backed up, pulling on his hands. “You never did say how old you are. When’s your birthday, Steven?”

  “I’m fifty-five.” He leaned over and kissed her sweetly.

  “Get real,” she said, cocking her head at him. “You’re not.” She eyed him then shook her head. “No, you’re not.”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to spend the rest of your life with an old guy?” he teased. Holy fuck, what had he just said?

  She bit her lip and nervously looked the other way.

  “I’m forty-five, Moira.” He turned her chin to look at him. So what? he thought. He’d slipped. It wasn’t like he didn’t mean it, and he wasn’t sorry he’d said it. That adorable look she used to warn him off appeared on her face. He grinned at her. “Thirty-nine’s a little old for me, but I’ll make an exception for you, sweetheart.”

  She snapped her head indignantly. “You’re just around the corner from a midlife crisis, Mr. Porter. I’m about all you’re gonna get in a few years,” she said, laughing at him.

  “Ah, so you do want to spend the rest of your life with me. I knew it.”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t need another big shot trying to push me around. Besides, you couldn’t handle me.”

  “Yah, wanna bet?” he purred.

  “You losing one bet is going to be too hard on your sensitive ego as it is.”

  He threw his arms around her so she couldn’t squirm away, kissing her neck and tickling her with his lips. “My little siren, you’re going to be sorry you said that,” he whispered in her ear.

  They caught up with Dane and Stephanie who waited outside the lodge doors. “How old are you, Dane?”

  He turned to look at Moira. “Why, is my brother lying about his age again?”

  “I don’t lie about my age, you asshole.”

  “We’re forty-five.”

  “When’s your birthday?” Moira asked.

  “What? Hasn’t this guy told you anything about himself? Like—admitting he’s a pompous jackass.”

  “There’s only one jackass in the family, and he’s a computer geek, but some idiot let him run a company,” Steven fired back.

  Moira and Stephanie watched them give each other the gears.

  “My birthday’s September eighteenth, Moira. I don’t know where they got Steven. Someone must have left the squalling brat on the doorstep. It’s just a fluke he looks like me.”

  “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He’s still pissed that he’s the younger brother.”

  “Your poor mother,” Moira quipped. It made both of them stop and look at her. “You two must’ve been the biggest pains in the ass this side of the Rockies.”

  “Ah, so she does know you, Steven,” Dane said quickly, beating him to it.

  * * * *

  Stephanie babbled about the scenery as they took their seats at a table on an expansive patio. Her tongue, back in high gear, whirled around like chopper blades, while their hostess, a woman in her late fifties, hovered over them trying to get a word in edgewise. Finally, Steff took a breath, and the woman jumped in.

  “Normally we have a couple choices for dinner, Mr. Porter,” she said, fussing with her skirt, “but whatever you would like we’ll have the chefs prepare.” She handed him two menus, and two more to Dane. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.” After taking their drink orders, she left.

  “See, this is what happens when you hang around with this guy,” Dane proposed, as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

  Moira took the menu Steven offered her.

  “Stifle it, Dane,” he warned, sensing Dane was about to dip into his way of life. He didn’t need him to paint a picture for Moira, a picture that had changed radically as of three days ago.

  “Seriously, Moira,” Dane said, ignoring him. “I hope you like the red carpet and all the trappings that go along with this guy. He’s more popular than some of his stars. Women fall at his feet like he’s the second coming.”

  Steven glared at his brother, hoping it would be enough to turn him into a pile of ashes.

  Moira skimmed over the menu items. Not looking up, she said, “Well, I haven’t seen any paparazzi popping out of a cactus yet, Dane.”

  He chuckled to himself and opened his own menu. Way to go, sweetheart, he thought, giving his brother a satisfied grin. “She got you there, jackass.”

  * * * *

  As he had requested, they were alone. He’d called the resort before they arrived to tell them they were on their way. The woman paused when he introduced himself, her words coming in choppy, excited breaths after that. He’d told her they just wanted a private dinner to watch the sun go down.

  That’s exactly what they got. They had an uninterrupted view of the landscape. Layered hills of orange rock grew into the air with rugged, broken tops surrounded them. Pale green brush and pine trees dotted the dry hillside. With a lush lawn sprawling from the patio to soothe the eye, it couldn’t have been a better setting. Unless his brother could magically disappear into thin air, that might make it better.

  As they settled in, Stephanie blurted to the group, “Hey, how about sushi?”

  Moira couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. He cracked up, too. Dane and Stephanie looked at them as if they were crazy.

  Moira waved her hand. “No thanks, I’ll pass, but I know where you can get some,” she said, then raised the menu to hide her face.

  Steven’s shoulders rose and he started laughing again just because she was. Moira took a quick peek at him. She looked away before she lost it completely. He wrapped his muscled arm around her, drawing her behind the menu, and kissed her deeply.

  “Man, I love it when you laugh,” he rumbled. He kissed her again.

  Her
voice dropped to a low whisper, her eyes warming. “I think I’m…”

  His heart just about leaped from his chest, and stuck in his throat, waiting for her to finish.

  “…hungry,” she finished, and gave him a sweet smile.

  His entire body stiffened. He wanted to hear her say something else, and there was no doubt he wanted those other words. Payback is a bitch, he thought.

  Moira excused herself to visit the ladies’ room before their meals arrived. Just like a tag-along teenager, Steff followed her, tongue rotating like a windmill.

  “I can see why you’re lured to her, but you do realize she has a brain in her head?” Dane asked, taking a sip of his drink.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he shot back angrily.

  “When she smiles it’s like watching the sun go supernova. Everything explodes in a glow of light, doesn’t it?”

  He squared his shoulders. “I know that,” he growled. “But what I don’t know is what the hell you’re doing. Are you trying to shoot me in the foot?”

  “What?”

  “What do you mean—what? Moira is different, all right? I don’t need you to tell her about women falling at my feet for fuck’s sake.”

  “I can see she’s different, Steven. She’s a nice lady. I’m wondering if you know that. At least before you screw her and dump her like all the rest.”

  He gaped at his brother in surprise. “First—no I’m not, and second—since when does it matter to you?”

  “I like her.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You like her, well that’s nice,” he said sharply. He leaned over the table, glaring at his brother. “Dane—”

  Dane gazed back at him, unaffected by his annoyance, and took another sip of his drink.

  “I love her.”

  Dane’s jaw slackened. He blinked, setting his glass on the table. “Jesus, for a second there I actually believed…” Disbelief filled his expression.

  “That’s right, I—love—her. You’re going to see a lot more of Moira, with me—forever if I get my way. Have some respect, and stop mentioning other women and my life as if it’s a sideshow. The women I’ve had until now used me as much as I used them. You know it, and so do I.”