“I live in Minneapolis,” she says.
“Great city.” I nod. “I grew up in St. Paul, and my family are all in Minnesota. I’m making the move back myself, hopefully in the next six months…sooner if possible.”
“You live in California?”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, Malibu. I do love it there. I’ll miss the water…the waves.”
“California is beautiful. You surf, I take it?”
“I do. How about you?”
She shakes her head. “You saw me go down. Me and a surfboard would not be a good idea.”
“I was sorry to see you going down like that, but happy to see you going down on me.” I wince and clear my throat. “That might’ve come out wrong. Not that it isn’t true, but…I will just…”
Her mouth drops. If her eyes weren’t sparkling back at me, I’d cut back on the flirting, but she seems to be enjoying this as much as I am.
“It’s the best thing that’s happened in my lap for quite some time.” I smile, trying to save myself.
She covers her mouth and giggles, a flush spreading across her cheeks.
That only serves to inspire me. I lean in a little closer. “You’re welcome to land here anytime. If you ever feel like you’re going down again, just let me know.”
“You are too much.”
“Or just right.” I smirk. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. That’s never happened before. It’s been a…stressful couple of days. I’m sure that the lack of sleep and food is all it was.”
“Do you think you should see a doctor when we land? I’d be happy to go with you.”
She smiles. “No, I really do feel fine now.”
“Can I take you to dinner then? I’d like to make sure you’re properly fed. My duties as a rescue hero, you know.”
“You’re really taking these hero duties seriously, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, and my eyes flit over her face, everywhere they land finding something spectacular. I could drown in her eyes. She has the cutest nose, and what my mom would’ve called a model’s cheekbones, and I think I’ve mentioned her mouth. God, it’s sinful howbeautiful her lips are. How beautiful I’m positive every inch of her is.
For the rest of the flight, we talk nonstop. At first I think it’s because I want to make sure she’s okay, but it ends up being because she’s smart and funny and so damn engaging. We mostly talk about California and the beaches and the traffic and how much faster-paced it feels than Minnesota.
As we get closer to landing, dread builds because I really don’t want this to end.
“Please have dinner with me,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“I’m not…” She waves her hand over her body. “These aren’t my clothes. I’m not normally dressed like a beach bum in the middle of winter. And honestly, besides being weather-inappropriate, this outfit probably gives you a very different impression of what I’m really like. I’m much more…subdued.”
“Dahlia?”
Her eyebrows lift, and she looks at me earnestly.
I lean closer. “You couldn’t look subdued if you tried.”
Her cheeks flush, and again, she looks like she wants to laugh, but she doesn’t. She presses her lips together, and I watch in fascination as they plump back up again.
When there’s been a long silence because we’re staring at each other, I realize I should probably speak.
