“He doesn’t care what I wear or whether I put on makeup.”
“You got me there.” Pitbull’s lips twitched for a second. He stared at Marly’s fresh, clean face and sparkling blue-gray eyes. “But seriously, you don’t need makeup.”
Marly’s cheeks filled with a soft pink color, giving her a more feminine look. “Thanks. And for that, you win the prize.”
Pitbull’s lips curled into a wry grin. “What prize?”
Marly smiled. “Copilot’s seat.” Before Pitbull could protest, she clapped her hands sharply and faced the men standing around the plane. “If you’re ready, we can get this show on the road.”
“But—” Pitbull started.
Buck pounded Pitbull’s back. “Congratulations, you lucky dog. You’ll have the best seat on the bus.”
“If you like it so much, you take it.” Pitbull waved a hand toward the plane.
“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of such a prime location.” Buck winked at Marly. “I’m sure the pilot will take very good care of you.”
“You know damn good and well how I feel about this plane,” Pitbull grumbled low enough for Buck to hear without clueing Marly in on their earlier discussion.
Buck cupped the back of his ear. “What’s that you say?” His brows rose high, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “You were going to tell Marly how you felt about her pride and joy?” He whacked Pitbull in the back hard enough to send him staggering forward. “Go ahead. Tell her how much you love flying in fixed-wing aircraft.” The bastard crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Marly stared at Pitbull, another smile tugging at her lips.
Caught between Buck’s taunts and Marly’s expectant stare, he did the only thing he could. He lied. “I can’t wait to ride shotgun.”
Marly’s eyes narrowed briefly. If he hadn’t been watching so closely, he would have missed it. But then her face cleared and she grinned. “Great. I’ll brief you on how to land this baby in case something happens to me.”
Pitbull shot a horrified glance her direction. He ran his gaze from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. “Holy shit, Marly. You aren’t expecting to croak while flying, are you?”
She laughed, a throaty, surprisingly sexy sound that caught and held Pitbull’s attention, despite her random threat of dying while in flight. His heartbeat ratcheted up and his groin tightened. What the hell? Marly wasn’t the kind of woman he usually found attractive. He went for dark-haired, curvy women who knew how to flirt and didn’t expect anything past a one-night stand.
Marly’s face lit and her eyes shone. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m as healthy as a horse.”
His heart hammering against his ribs, Pitbull forgot to be angry or disconcerted about having to ride in the cockpit of the aircraft. For that moment, he was lost in Marly’s laughter and smile.
Damn. This couldn’t be good.
He tore his gaze from her fresh face and happy smile to watch, without really “seeing,” as his teammates climbed aboard the aircraft and settled into their seats.
“If you’re ready,” Marly said beside him and touched his arm. “I’ll close the door behind us. Really, I’m fine. I won’t pass out and die during our flight.” She held up her hand. “Scout’s honor.”
He frowned. “I’m holding you to that promise. And I doubt seriously you were ever a Scout.” Then he ascended the steps into the tiny plane. Hunkering low to keep from bumping his head, he passed down the aisle and settled into the copilot’s place on the right.
Taking full responsibility for the aircraft, Marly secured the door behind her and joined him, resting a hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself into her seat.
Where her hand had been remained warm long after she removed it. If he were honest with himself, he’d own up to the tingling sensation sizzling through his body at her touch. Obviously he’d been too long without a woman in his bed. But now was not the time to be thinking of such a thing.
Marly was the pilot, nothing more.
“Buckle up, buttercup,” Marly said, fastening her safety straps. Over her shoulder, she told the others, “As you all well know, this isn’t your usual jetliner flight. I’ll be your pilot, or rather, copilot—with Pitbull’s assistance—and flight attendant. Please fasten your seat belts and keep them fastened until we land. There will be no beverages served on this flight, and there is no lavatory.” She gave the guys in the back a wicked grin. “If you should need to relieve yourself...hold it until we make our refueling stop halfway there.”
“Well, damn,” Buck complained. “I wanted a beer.”
T-Mac followed with, “And I was really looking forward to the peanuts.”
Big Jake waved a dismissive hand. “Ignore the whiners. We’re all set. Let ’er rip.”
“And by ‘let ’er rip,’ he means make a smooth takeoff and an even smoother landing,” Pitbull mumbled.
“I heard that.” Marly’s pretty pink lips twisted. She slapped a headset against his chest. “Wear these so you know what’s going on.”
He slipped the headset over his ears and plugged the wires into the communications ports. “Do I want to know what’s going on?”
She leaned back and gave him an assessing stare. “Pitbull, are you telling me you’re afraid of a little ol’ plane ride?” Her brows rose into the hair swooping down over her brow.
Buck leaned forward. “Bingo! Give the lady a prize.”
Marly shook her head. “You have nothing to worry about. I have over three thousand hours flying this plane alone, and more in other types of aircraft. I started flying at thirteen, over fifteen years ago. I think I can handle it.” She checked the instrument panel, flicked several switches and started the engine.
As the propeller spun into action, Pitbull’s gut clenched.
“Relax. We’ll be there before you know it,” Marly said into the mic.
Her voice filled the earphones of his headset, reassuring Pitbull when he needed it most.
Marly spoke to the nearby air traffic controller, got her instructions and started the plane taxiing toward the runway. “With all you go through as a navy SEAL, I can’t believe you’re afraid of flying.”
“I’m not afraid of flying,” Pitbull said through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the armrest at his side. “I’m afraid of crashing.”
“But you fly in helicopters all the time,” Marly reasoned, pushing the throttle forward. The aircraft gained speed as it barreled down the runway.
“I do it as part of the job.” Pitbull tensed, praying the runway was long enough. “And helicopters don’t eat up thousands of feet of runway to take off.”
Still grinning, Marly kept her gaze on the runway ahead. “Yeah, but when the propeller stops, helicopters drop like a rock to the earth. Airplanes, on the other hand, can glide for miles.” Just as they neared the end of the runway, the plane left the ground, the wings seesawing slightly as they lifted the craft into the air.
Pitbull leaned back, willing the plane to continue its climb. “Planes can glide for miles, but they still need thousands of feet of runway to land. Helicopters don’t. Besides, I’m used to flying in helicopters, not planes.”
Her hands steady on the yoke, Marly handled the aircraft like the expert she was. “Stick with me and I’ll have you singing a different tune.”
Pitbull