Page 48 of Saber Stalked


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We both look at the clue.

“Are we allowed to use the internet?” I frown.

Rand shrugs. “No need. I know where this is.”

“You do?”

He taps the side of his head. “I retain a lot of helpful and not-so-helpful facts in my head. Photographic memory. But, makes it a bitch to find anyone to play Trivial Pursuit with.”

I laugh. “I highly doubt the ladies are turning you down.”

The mirth falls from his face. “Yeah, well. Things aren’t always what they seem. Now, it’s going to take us about twenty minutes to get to our location, which means you now have 45 minutes to get ready for the day.”

I have this burning desire to apologize to him, but I’m not quite sure for what. As I glance at the resignation on his face, I decide to leave it be. There are things in my past I don’t want to talk about. And it seems the good-natured Rand doesn’t want to talk about things either.

“Don’t you want me to help you clean up first?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “If you mean clean up in the shower together, thenabso-freaking-lutely. If you mean the kitchen? I got this. Get ready and pack for the day. I have a feeling we’re not going to be back at the hotel anytime soon.”

The thought of Rand pressing me against the walk-in shower walls kicks up my blushing into overdrive. He swats my butt and pushes me toward the stairs before I can get too much more embarrassed about it.

For shit’s sake. Maybe I needed to get The Sex out of my system, and this embarrassment would quit being so close to the surface.

Yeah. That’s probably it. Just like ripping off a bandaid. Before the bandaid or bodice-ripping, we have some things to do today.

Item one: Win scavenger hunt.

Item two: Have The Sex.

Rand’s already helping me with item one on my agenda. Wonder how he’d feel about item two?

Chapter 25

“It’s all about the Benjamins.”

-Rand

“I’m not getting on that tiny deathtrap,” Carolina backs away from the plane’s stairs.

I put my arm around her waist and drag her toward the Cessna. “Look, our pilot is well-trained, and the flight is short. We’re just headed to Tampa.”

“Across the water!”

I sigh. We are at the St. Pete-Clearwater International Airport. Tony Jannus, the first commercial airline pilot, flew a “flying boat” from St. Petersburg to Tampa. We’re not taking a water plane. But, the news didn’t sit very well with my I.F.

“You’ve traveled around the world! Across the water before!”

Her eyes widen. “No shit, Sherlock. But I didn’t travel to another country in a tin can plane that had to be wound up with a key.”

I roll my shoulders, then turn to the pilot who’s enjoying the shit show. “Listen, man. How about this? We go up in the plane, circle the St. Petersburg Pier, which is in the water, by the way, and if she feels alright with it, we’ll head to Tampa.”

The pilot scrunches up his face. “I don’t know about that. My flight plan is pretty specific.”

“See? We can’t do it,” Carolina turns back toward the parking lot.

I snag her around the waist. “Not so fast, puffin. I’m about to make it worth the pilot’s while to modify his flight plan and get us in the air.”

She shakes her head.