“So, what do we have, sir?” he asked examiner Newell, knowing full well the answer. Nick thought he saw a smile in the man’s eyes, but he could hardly tell.
“We have an IFR-rated pilot.”
One of the old guys on the bench snorted. “Not bad, for a woman.”
Nick shot him a look, narrowing his eyes. “For awoman? We’ve moved way past the 1950s, sir. I’ll have you know she’s also a—”
“Nick.” Jannie squeezed his arm, an amused smile on her sweet face. “It’s OK.”
“No, it’s not,” he muttered but shut his mouth. He didn’t want to cause a scene and cloud her day, so he didn’t inform the sexist old-timers that she also happened to be a doctor, even though he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
“She passed with flying colors,” Newell said.
Nick nodded. “Not surprised in the least.”
The second man’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “You’re not?”
“Nope. She’s a Larssen, and as good a pilot as any of them. Maybe even better.”
“Larssen?” The first man frowned. His watery eyes widened, and he raised a gnarled finger. “LarsAir!”
“That’s right,” Jannie said.
Recognition sparked in the second man’s eyes. “The private jetcompany?” he asked Nick.
Nick nodded. “The very one.”
“We watch them take off and land all the time at the big airport,” the first man said to Jannie. “Sweet fleet of planes. That’s your family?”
“Yes.”
Newell finally cracked a semblance of a smile. “I have some paperwork to do. I’ll meet you in the pilot lounge.” With that, he turned and headed for the FBO.
The second man raised his beer. “Well. Congratulations, little lady.”
Jannie gave the men a dazzling grin. “Thank you.” She turned to Nick. “Shall we?”
He took her hand, and together, they walked to the large white building.
“This is nice,” Jannie said, looking up at the covered walkway as they approached the entrance.
He went to push the button to ask to be buzzed in through the double glass doors, but Jannie grabbed his sleeve. She reached up to let her blonde hair down from a sleek ponytail to cascade over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with exhilaration. And then, she hooked a hand behind his neck and crashed her lips to his.
The blood pounded hot through his veins as her tongue thrust into his mouth. How was it that every kiss from her kept getting better? He gripped the back of her head, his other hand gently wrapping around her throat, his thumb over her pulse point. He felt the throb there, and his own heart raced faster. God, how he wanted her.
She broke the kiss, brushing her lips across his cheek. “I owe it all to you.”
“You had a lot more to do with it.”
“I want to thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Teaching you was my pleasure.”
“That isn’t what I meant. I want to get you something. I had a few ideas, but I want it to be something you like. So, I’ll just ask: what do you want?”
You, beside me every morning, with me every day, beneath me every night.
He shook his head. “Just seeing you happy and getting your rating is enough. You really don’t have to get me anything.”
