Come Fly With Me

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

“Well.” Katya reached over the table and threaded her fingers through his, flashing him a sympathetic smile. “If you puke on the back of my head while I’m flying, I will flip the plane and dump you in the loch.”

  “And there’s the caring, understanding girl I fell in love with.”

  Katya grinned.

  30

  “This is a bad idea,” Brodie said as Katya strapped him into the rear cockpit. “This plane didn’t even have wings a week ago.”

  “It did have wings.” She grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “They just weren’t attached.”

  “I don’t like the idea that the wings come off. What if they aren’t secure? What if they fall off mid-flight?” Damn it, his palms were clammy, and it felt like his heart wanted to break out through the wall of his chest.

  “They won’t fall off. I know what I’m doing. Here, you need goggles.” She thrust a pair at him. “Put them on, Brodie. It’s an open cockpit, and without them, your eyes will water. Besides, if you get hit by a bug, you want to be able to wipe its mashed body off the goggles instead of your eyeball.”

  “You’re enjoying this far too much,” he complained as he hastily put them on.

  “Yes, I am. Now, put this on too.” She shoved a headset at him.

  Brodie stared at it as if it were alien technology. “I thought we were supposed to shout through tubes on these planes.”

  “Welcome to the modern era, Brodie. The plane’s now fitted with up-to-date communication equipment.”

  “Does that mean we’ll be easier to find if we crash?” He pulled on his headset as Katya did the same with hers.

  “No. It means I’ll be able to hear you scream like a baby when we take off.”

  The plane looked different from his new position. It didn’t seem as big as it had before he climbed in. The drab olive canvas that made up the body had some rust-colored paint on it, where a logo of some kind had once been. Brodie thought it a bad choice of color for a warplane seeing as it looked like blood.

  Unless it was blood?

  He shook his head and tried to focus on something else. The wooden struts holding the wings apart obstructed their view around the plane, making Brodie wonder how Katya’s great-gran had coped with blind spots on those night flights of hers.

  Great. Now he was thinking about random crap in an attempt to forget he was strapped to a decades-old machine made of wood and canvas. And fitted with dials that didn’t look anywhere near as reliable as a computer screen. Not to mention the levers that moved metal bars running the length of the plane.

  Hi-tech, it was not.

  It belonged in a museum. Not in the air. Especially not with people in it.

  Brodie shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. There was hardly any space to move, and for some reason, the designers had thought positioning a lever between his legs was a great idea.

  “I can’t move. This plane’s too small. It must have been built for short Russian guys.”

  “Stop whining,” Katya said through the headset as she jumped down off the wing and disappeared around the front of the plane. “I told you, you’re going to love this. It isn’t anything like going up in a commercial aircraft with hundreds of other people. For a start, you don’t have a tiny oval window. On this plane, you can look in every direction as you breathe in fresh air.”

  “Which is only another way of saying there’s nothing between my head and the sky…or the ground.”

  Katya climbed up onto the wing and into the front cockpit. “I remember you being a whole lot braver than this.”

  “I remember when you made me help you take your bed apart because you wanted the mattress to sit on the floor, so the monster couldn’t hide under it anymore.” Brodie could still hear Fraser shouting when he’d found out what they’d done. Because not only had they taken the wooden frame apart, they’d also hidden it in the garden, to ensure Katya’s dad couldn’t put it back together again.

  “I was seven, and I got over my irrational fear.” She fastened her over-the-shoulder harness. “Exactly the same way you’ll get over yours.”

  “By dismantling the plane and hiding it where no one can find it?”

  “By trusting I’ll give you a good experience up there.”

  “Why does that sound dirty?”

  “Because you’re a MacGregor?”

  She appeared to pull some levers to her left then press various buttons. The dials attached to the back of Katya’s seat moved, and Brodie gripped the rim of the cockpit until his knuckles turned white. “The dials back here are doing stuff. What does that mean? Do I have to do something?”

  “No.” Katya sounded amused over his headset. “They mirror what’s happening up here. They were used by the navigator to keep them apprised of the plane’s progress. Or so they could take over and fly from the back seat if the pilot became incapacitated.”

  Brodie was overcome with dizziness. “That’s not funny, Kat. Not even a little.”

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry, she sounded entertained. “Nothing will happen to me. I’m starting the engine. Don’t freak out, okay?”

  Why did she have to say that? Now all he wanted to do was freak out.

  Katya flicked a switch, and the engine sputtered then chugged as smoke billowed from the rotating blades on the nose of the craft.

  “We’re on fire,” he whispered. “We’re on fire!” he shouted.

  “Bloody hell, Brodie! You nearly took out my eardrums. We’re not on fire. That’s just the engine burning off some fuel because I haven’t primed her enough. I thought you’d rather see a little smoke than sit here while the engine turned over for ages.”

  “Kat,” Brodie said in all seriousness, “you need to let me out. I’m not going to make it.”

  She twisted around in her seat. “Brodie, I promise you, this will be fun, and you will be fine.”

  “You keep saying that, but I feel like I’m having a heart attack here.” He rubbed at his chest.

  “Okay, if you really, seriously don’t think you can do this, then we won’t. But if you think you can, then once we’re back on the ground, I’ll give you a treat.”

  “I’m not going up there for a chocolate bar. This is serious. I wish it wasn’t, but I’m genuinely freaking here.”

  “Tell you what, if you try one very short flight, when we’re back on land, I’ll let you kiss me…anywhere you like.” Her lips curled with pure seduction.

  “As in, I can kiss you in the car, or by the loch, or…?”

  “No, Brodie, as in, I will strip naked and let you kiss me anywhere you’d like to—on my body.”

  His head fell forward as he let out a stream of curses. “You are an evil, evil woman.”

  “It’s your choice,” she said, her voice intimate in his ear over the headset. “I want you to come fly with me, what do you want?”

  Brodie wrapped both hands around the rim of the cockpit again and held on tight. “I’m trusting you,” he gritted out.

  With a knowing smile, Katya turned back toward the front. “It’ll be worth it.”

  Then the plane moved forward.

  Okay, okay, I can do this. It’s exactly like being in a car…in a field…with wings…

  “The engine sounds weird,” he said.

  “Like a sewing machine?”

  “Aye.”

  “That’s just the sound it makes. Some people find it soothing.”

  They bumped along the short grass. Short? Brodie studied the ground. “Did you mow?”

  “Had Stephen tidy up a strip, although this baby can take off on pretty much any terrain.”

  “Great,” he muttered.

  He probably should have objected to her taking liberties with their land, but he had more important things to focus on. Like the fact they weren’t going very fast at all. It didn’t feel like the last, and only, flight he’d taken. There, they’d suddenly sped up, pushing him back into the seat. “Are we going to take off? Or ride around the
paddocks?”

  “Eager. I like it.” There was a grin in Katya’s voice. “This plane takes off at a much lower speed than the one you flew on.” There was a gentle bump, and the ground wasn’t beneath their wheels anymore. “See? Smooth and easy.”

  Okay, Brodie, you can do this. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

  His fingers held on tight as they gained altitude, although, it wasn’t too high. Nothing like the flight to Spain, where he’d seen only clouds. This time, the ground was close by, and he could see every detail of the town below.

  Despite everything he’d feared about the flight, Brodie found his panic receding a tiny bit at a time.

  “It’s nice to be able to see all around you, isn’t it? You really feel like you’re in the air.” Her love for the experience was in her tone as she practically purred the words. “How are you doing back there?”

  He licked his lips. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

  All he did know was that he didn’t have the same sense of desperation he’d felt the last time he flew. In fact, he found himself distracted by the scenery beneath them and realized that Katya was keeping the plane as steady as possible.

  “Look over there.” Katya stretched out an arm to point, and a spike of terror shot through him that her hands weren’t on the controls. Then he remembered this wasn’t like driving a car. They weren’t about to make any sharp turns, and no one else was in the sky with them, which meant no collisions.

  Dragging his eyes from the horizon, he looked to where she pointed. “Is that…?”

  “Half the town? Yeah.” Her laughter was bubbles of joy against his skin.

  A crowd of people stood on the lochside, filling the road in front of the pub. All of them staring up and waving at the plane.

  “Do you want to go lower and wave back?” Katya asked.

  To his surprise, Brodie found himself considering it. “No acrobatics?”

  “No, I promise, only a lower pass.”

  “Okay then,” he said, shocking himself with his answer.

  “Okay then,” she repeated with approval.

  The plane moved out over the water, turning in a wide, slow loop, and Brodie reveled in the sensation of wind on his face. “In the other plane, I couldn’t see who was flying or where we were going. Then there were all the people and those teeny wee windows.”

  Katya snorted. “That isn’t flying. That’s being cargo. This”—she threw her arms in the air—“this is flying.”

  He was grinning at her behavior before he realized it. Then, tentatively, he uncurled his fingers from the frame in front of him and raised his hands too. They shook as he stretched them into the sky. Air streamed through his fingers, and a rush of pure adrenaline hit his system.

  “We’re flying!” he shouted.

  As Katya brought the plane in on a low swoop over the loch, in front of the crowd, everyone cheered and waved. Even though they were going slow, they were still too fast for him to pick out his brothers’ faces. Which was a shame because he’d bet their jaws had hit the ground when they saw him.

  “Want to do a flyby of Baxter Farm?” Katya asked, sounding mischievous.

  “There aren’t any bombs attached to this, are there?” he joked.

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Can we pass over the loch again before we head for the hills?”

  “Absolutely.” Her voice curled around him.

  Brodie craned his neck to see past the bars holding the two sets of wings apart. “Do people really walk out on the wings of these things?”

  “I’ve done it.” She sounded so blasé that he knew she must be winding him up.

  Then again, it was Katya. “Seriously?”

  She grinned at him over her shoulder. “I have the photos to prove it.”

  Damn, but she was gorgeous. Her eyes sparkling behind her goggles, the wind trying to tug her hair free from its braid, her cheeks flushed pink from the fresh air. It was more, though—she was brimming over with life, with excitement. It was contagious, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

  When her attention returned to her instruments, Brodie felt a strange peace settle over him. “I never knew it could be like this,” he whispered.

  When the plane turned toward the hills beyond town and Kitty Baxter’s farm, Brodie closed his eyes and raised his face to the sun. “Next time, we need to bring flour. I could have easily opened a bag over my brothers.”

  “You think you can cope with a sharp turn or two?” Katya asked with pure devilment. “We could put on a show and scare the crap out of them instead.”

  “Hell, yes.” Brodie laughed. “Just no turning upside down. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  “Yet,” she said. “Not ready yet.”

  And then she headed back toward town.

  31

  Brodie seemed to have gotten over his fear of flying by the time they came in to land, although Katya still thought it best not to tell him the plane didn’t actually have any brakes. Instead, it had a steerable tail skid that dragged along the ground to slow them.

  While other aircraft won their pilots over with looks and fancy gadgets, the Polikarpov Po-2 did it through sheer flexibility. The plane could take off and land almost anywhere, easily fly under the radar, and dance around in the sky as if on strings. Plus, it was virtually impossible to stall and resisted going into a spin. It was a pilot’s dream, which was why Katya loved it, and why she hoped Brodie’s flight had shown him how awesome it could be.

  After climbing down and placing the chucks under the two front wheels, she turned to ask Brodie how he felt about her plane now. As soon as she saw his face, all words died on her lips as a rush of pure, unadulterated lust slammed into her body.

  He strode toward her, keeping her captured with his dark gaze. Intent written all over his face, he was a hurricane of need, and there was no stopping him—even if she’d wanted to. Hands grasped hold of her waist, and she was off her feet.

  In one smooth move, he lifted and pinned her to the aircraft, his lips already on hers. It was a devouring. A desperate, needy kiss. The kind of kiss that stole your breath, your sense, and left you soaring.

  Just as abruptly as the kiss had started, Brodie ripped his mouth from hers. “Am I hurting it?” he growled.

  His question made no sense. “You’re not hurting me.” Her legs had drifted around his hips as she gripped him tightly to her, and her arms clung to his shoulders.

  “Not you. The plane. Never mind.”

  She was flying again. This time, as Brodie took them both to the ground. Her shirt disappeared. Then his. Their mouths devoured as their hands fought to get at their jeans. Katya kicked off her shoes as they rolled until Brodie was beneath her.

  “Argh,” he snapped.

  “What?” she sat up, straddling him, wearing only her jeans and bra.

  “I think I’m lying on nettles.” He held her tight while he sat up, pressing their chests together, turning her brain to mush all over again.

  She nuzzled at his neck, kissing her way up to his ear where she tugged his earlobe into her mouth and purred when he moaned.

  “Kat, check my back.”

  “Hmm?”

  “My back. Something’s sticking into me.”

  Reluctantly, she knelt up and peered over Brodie’s shoulder. Sure enough, there was a clump of nettles attached to his lower back.

  “Nettles.” She cast about for her shirt, grabbed it from near Brodie’s feet, and used it to protect her hand while she yanked them out.

  He groaned. And not in a good way.

  “We need to get off the ground. Stand up,” he ordered.

  Honestly, in the hope he’d quit stalling, she’d have hopped on one leg if he’d demanded it. She stood, took a step back, glanced up, and shouted a warning.

  It was too late. Brodie’s head struck the underside of the wing, and he sat back down with a thud—on the nettles. Loud cursing was closely followed by Katya picking yet more spik
y leaves out of his backside.

  “Do you have a concussion?” She felt Brodie’s head as he leaned against the side of plane.

  “No. What I have is a serious case of frustration.” He pushed away from the plane and pointed at her. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Then he stalked over to his SUV, managing to step on something painful as he went. Katya stood, feeling helpless as she watched him cradle his foot and hop.

  “I’m okay,” he called back to her before opening the car.

  For a second, she wondered if he might drive to town without her, instead he pulled some stuff out of the car and strode back—carefully—determination in every step.

  “Get naked,” he ordered while shaking out a blue tarpaulin and laying it on the ground underneath the wing.

  “Don’t you want me to put some antiseptic cream on your boo-boos first?”

  “I swear, Kat, if you laugh, I will strangle you.”

  “Brodie”—she struggled to keep a straight face—“your foot’s bleeding. There’s a nettle rash starting on your back, and probably your bum. You still have a bruised nose and black eyes from football. And there’s a lump the size of an egg on the top of your head… How can you possibly still have a hard-on?” There was no stopping it. She dissolved into laughter.

  Brodie smoothed out a blue tartan blanket on top of the tarp before testing the whole area gingerly. When he was done, he nodded, then strode toward her with a look of maniacal determination. “You’re still dressed.”

  “Brodie, I hate to say it, but the mood has passed.” She wasn’t lying either. For a second there, she’d been about to experience Nirvana and now, she mainly felt sorry for him.

  “Is that right?” One hand clasped her nape, the other the small of her back, as his mouth covered hers.

  And just like that, the mood returned.

  With a vengeance.

  If there was one quality that defined Brodie, it was tenacity. A fact he was more than grateful for, considering how damn hard it was to get anywhere with the woman in his arms. It was as though the universe was out to sabotage him. Well, the universe didn’t know who it was dealing with because nothing short of unconsciousness, or Katya herself, would get in his way this time.