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“It’s all right, Mama,” Graham murmurs when Maxwell steps aside to make his call. “Like Max said, it’s probably just traffic. Or maybe she overslept. It doesn’t mean she’s in any trouble.”
“I know.” And I do feel a little ridiculous worrying over this woman I’ve never even met, but that’s what Mommies do, right? “But what if she’s hurt? She’s all alone in some hotel room, Graham, what if she—”
“I’m here, I’m here!”
Turning as one with my husband, I stare at the door to the plane as the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen stumbles inside.
And promptly trips on the stairs to faceplant right at my feet.
“Oh, honey.” Crouching down, I reach for her, my Mommy heart already breaking at the thought of her coming to any harm. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine,” she snaps, irritation and embarrassment all but pouring off her in waves as she scrambles to her feet and brushes at her wrinkled skirt.
And that’s not all that’s wrinkled. Her white dress shirt is a mess, covered in stains and only half tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The jacket that is meant to be part of her uniform is nowhere in sight and her hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in three days.
She is, to put it bluntly, a fucking disaster.
An adorable disaster.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Moving purely on the instinct of a Mommy needing to teach a naughty Little girl a lesson I step forward, taking hold of Kerry’s arm and spinning her to the side. Her shocked yelps pepper the air as I swat at her bottom over and over.
“Little girls do not use that kind of language, Kerry Addison. I should take you to the bathroom and wash your mouth out with soap.”
Dancing in place, little Kerry tries to evade my palm, but I have had plenty of practice giving Little girls exactly what they need and I don’t miss a single swat.
“Owie, owie, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
Satisfied, at least for the time being, I stop spanking but don’t release my hold on her arm. “Apologize to Mr. Stone for using those naughty words in the workplace.”
Hiccupping softly, she reaches behind her to rub at her bottom. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stone.”
Maxwell’s lips twitch slightly with obvious amusement. “It’s quite all right, little one. Clearly you’re having a… morning.”
Pink floods Kerry’s face. “Yes, Sir. I, ah, overslept.”
One brow raising, Maxwell runs his gaze over her unkempt form. “Where is your suitcase?”
The color in her cheeks darkens. “Can I please just go to the bathroom and freshen up? I won’t be long.”
It’s Graham who speaks next, his voice dropping to a low tone I’ve only ever heard him use when we have a naughty Little girl or boy at our mercy. “Answer the question, little girl.”
Huffing out an annoyed breath, she stomps her foot, and I have to swallow a laugh at how adorably Little she looks in that moment. From everything Maxwell has told us, Kerry is an absolute professional on the clock, but so far she’s been the exact opposite.
And it’s delightful.
“I don’t have to listen to you! I don’t even know you!”
“Well, I have a feeling that’s about to change,” Maxwell says, doing nothing to hide his own amusement with the situation. “Kerry, meet Graham and Celeste Sterling. Our new pilot and copilot team.”
Every ounce of color drains from Kerry’s face.
“Fuck.”
Kerry
As soon as the word slips free, I try to take it back. Stomach churning with a mixture of humiliation and fear, I slap a hand over my mouth and stare at my new coworkers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words somewhat muffled by my hand.
