Him.
“Me?” he asked.
She said nothing. Sometimes it was the best choice.
“I decided somethin’,” he said. Well, mostly, he drawled. “What’s that?”
“You’re going to be my copilot.” Travis nudged her arm with his own.
Not freaking likely. That was a no from her.
She stared at the plane—a metal flying box of anxiety made only of sheet metal, bolts, and jet fuel.
Travis stared at it with that caressing gaze, like it was to be cared for and revered. Cherished. Polished.
“No,” she said. “And please tell me you have a copilot with the appropriate credentials.”
He didn’t respond. He just asked, instead, “Can I tell you the best thing about you being my copilot?”
She didn’t really think he was asking, though. More like he was going to do what he wanted.
“We both know you’re going to say it, so you might as well get it over with,” she mumbled. He was like his mother that way.
“If you’re my copilot, then I’ll be your copilot,” he said, turning that gaze back on her, letting it lightly graze over her skin, the fine hairs along her arm seeming to stand right up and take notice. Sheesh, it was like her body thought he’d brought her margaritas again.
Maybe Molly was right. Maybe Rachel needed to get laid. Good God, not by Travis and his caressy-caress looks, because that would apparently rip the seam of the family structure irrevocably, but there had to be a male in the Twin Lakes region of Colorado who might be interested in a booty call.
She’d figure out a strategy if they landed. Once. Once they landed.
Like a good pilot, a one-night stand should be someone you didn’t know outside of the situation.
Although…in rolling that thought around her brain… the last time she’d done that she’d ended up with a set of twins and a man who had a penchant for disappearing from his fatherly duties more often than not.
“Let’s just let the licensed pilot fly the plane.” Forcing her feet one in front of the other, she stepped up the staircase and into the cabin.
Two balls of fur barreled into her.
“Crates,” she said, the word shrill. “They have to stay in their crates on the flight.”
“They don’t like their crates.” Kellan caught Pete around his neck and lifted him against his chest. “Meemaw said it’s fine.”
Rachel chanced a glance at their grandmother. Evelyn raised a thin, penciled eyebrow at her. It didn’t raise very much because of the filler she used in her forehead creases.
Rachel didn’t judge; she had every intention of Botoxing the shit out of her face once her wrinkles got deep enough. Though, Kaiya’s products were helping to delay the process.
“The dogs won’t hurt anything,” Evelyn assured.
Except, they’d probably defecate on the pristine leather chairs, chew the armrests, run into the cockpit and force the plane into an emergency landing. An emergency landing of the hard variety that might even involve flames. Which meant…
“They need to go in their crates, please and thank you.” Rachel leveled Kellan with her don’t-mess-with-me-about-it stare. He took note, working with his brother to get the dogs back in their cages.
Dane secured the cabin as Travis made his way to the cockpit, a small metal clipboard in his hand, aviator sunglasses wrecking his otherwise perfect blond hair. Even though the guy was definitely not a superhero, he had a bit of the Clark Kent vibe right then.
“What do you think, boys? I’m trying to convince your mom to copilot.” He focused on her boys, doing an abbreviated round of roughhousing with them that did nothing to allay her worry over the flight. She closed her eyes and mentally checked the list of items she’d needed to pack, ticking each off one by one in her head.
If this didn’t work, she’d grab her phone and earbuds for the meditation app April recommended. Rachel used it sometimes when she got really nervous. Fine. She used it once. There wasn’t a lot of time for meditation apps lately, what with the full-time parenting, impromptu family vacation for the summer, and a full client load.
“Mom, you have to do it.” Kellan pulled her eyelids open with his thumbs and absolutely no regard for her personal space or mental stability.
