She loved Trask.
Yes, she admitted it to herself daily…and to her dogs, who listened avidly and thoroughly agreed.
Right.The boys missed the jerk, too.
His grumpy ass personality and his closed mouth hadn’t swayedanyof them from adoring him.
Because he was so freaking special.
Jett had to admire that.
Despite his reticence to include her in any meaningful part of his life, she knew exactly who Trask was. He was a man who loved andwasloved, unconditionally, by his family. He was an individual who would give a stranger the shirt off his back, and not expect anything in return. He worked hard every day to make the business his brothers had started, a success. He was even the type of man who, after she’d ended their physical encounters, was still nice to her, and continued deferring to her expertise with both planes and parachute jumping; leaning on her career strengths instead of marginalizing her.
Why did he have to be such a good guy,andso screwed up in the head at the same time?
Jett might never have the answer to those questions, but amongst her not-so-patient attributes, there was something more about her that Trask had missed. She’d been known, from an early age, to dig her heels in. To remain entrenched when something was worth waiting for; watching for any kind of opening in lines that had been drawn.
That’s exactly what she’d been doing with Trask; waiting out his reservations, hoping he’d wake up to what she knew they could have between them.
She just wasn’t going to hold her breath for too long.
Which is why she found herself flirting with one of the locals while Sheila, Tabbi, Spence, and Buck were a few doors down, eating a late breakfast at the local diner.
Dustin, who’d previously stopped into Diver Downeast a few times, had made the excuse that he was toying with whether or not to sign up for diving lessons, but he’d also made clear his interest in her.
“Seriously, Dustin. There aregrouplessons available starting next month, and any one of the owners here are more than qualified to get you up and running.”
“But I wantyou,” he returned, giving her a wide smile that should have been—but wasn’t—a panty melter. “I’ll gladly pay the price for private lessons, but only if you’re the one teaching me.”
Trask walked through the door right in the middle of that conversation, heard what Dustin said, and instantly looked like he was sucking pickles.
The dogs, of course, not sensing any tension, immediately got up from where they’d been lounging behind the counter, ran to the door, and danced around Trask as if he was the king of all canines.
The traitors.
Before she could let Dustin down easily for the dozenth time, Trask spoke up, slamming the portal behind him.
“We’re not staffed for individual lessons yet,” he interjected sourly. “We’re straight out with what we’ve got on our schedules. So unless you want to wait until we take on more help to get private instruction, you’ll have to go with the group.”
Jett had just as easily told Dustin that any number of times, but the man had been persistent. He obviously liked flirting with her, and it stroked her aching ego, so she hadn’t been too persuasive.
Even though she wasn’t attracted to the man, his attention had felt damned good.
Her womanly confidence had taken a heavy beating lately.
Dustin shrugged and kept his eyes on Jett as if Trask hadn’t just placed himself into the middle of their conversation.
“Then maybe I’ll bide my time on that, and ask you out for lunch today, instead,” he offered with a wink.
Jett opened her mouth to let him down gently, when Trask walked forward, interrupting again.
“She already has lunch plans. With me,” he clipped.
“She does?” Dustin asked.
I do? Jett mimicked in her head as she blinked.
“Yeah,” Trask stated. “We’re headed to Bangor to check out?—”
