Landing the Air Marshal (Snowpocalypse) (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Gage was officially the biggest prick on the planet.

Abby lay on the luxurious four-poster bed, a sheet wrapped haphazardly along her tasty curves.

Just get up and don’t look back.

Yes, this was for the best. For both of them. They’d both realize how stupid this weekend was once they left the confines of the penthouse.

He took in one last drink of her. The waves of dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders. The pout in her plump lips. Even without makeup, her lips were blood red, like she’d just eaten cherries.

He ran a finger along her cheek, and she stirred slightly. He mashed his lips together and fought the urge to wake her up. What the hell was wrong with him? This was supposed to be a one-night stand. It shouldn’t be so hard. And yet, here he was,
again—
second time in two days—limbs feeling heavy as cement as he tried to drag himself out of bed. But he was doing this for her. Didn’t want to make her deal with the inevitable awkward good-bye. No need to drag this out. It’d be much easier for her to move on from the weekend this way, even though the thought of Abby with another guy ripped at him, more than he’d like to admit.

He pulled out his phone and opened up a text to his sister, looking for anything to stall for another minute or so. Because no matter how much he knew he had to do this, he was pulled to Abby like a fucking magnet. Luckily, in exactly three hours, he’d create enough space between them that there’d no longer be a pull.

He typed out a quick text and hit send.

Gage:
Got called into work. I’ll be home in a couple days.

Jill:
Bummed but we understand. We love you.

That was his sister’s only response. But his family was just that—family. They had to understand. Someone that didn’t have to put up with his bullshit schedule would be out of there faster than a plane jetting off a runway. For once, he knew he was making the right decision. He scribbled a quick note and left before he could change his mind.

…

Gage’s side of the bed was cold when Abby woke up. The hope in her chest deflated as she realized this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He had a flight to catch, and so did she, in five hours.

A note lay on the pillow next to her. His pillow. Dammit, it still smelled like his shampoo, that intoxicating woodsy smell that would be imprinted on her mind now.

Had a great weekend with you, sweetheart. Wish it could have been longer.

-Gage

Oh, the nerve of this guy. How dare he give her the best goddamn sex of her life and then bail? He didn’t even have the decency to say good-bye in person. Left it for a note. What was this, middle school? Hell, he didn’t even leave a phone number. Whether that was intentional or not, her guess was as good as any. Oh, she was feeling ranty. Maybe this was the side effect of too much sex. Maybe her body was already going through withdrawal.

Yes, she knew the deal going into this. Two nights, no attachments, but tell that to her protesting nether region.

Chewing out the source of the problem wasn’t an option, so she did the next best thing—she reached for her phone and dialed her sister’s number. Ella picked up on the second ring.

“Please tell me you have more details about Mr. Mile High.”

“He’s gone.” She swallowed past the unexpected lump in her throat and continued. No, she would not be sad about this. Two nights couldn’t possibly breed such a deep attachment. “He had an emergency job to fill. Something about a shortage.”

“Did you at least exchange digits?”

She paused and shifted her eyes to the nightstand, where she’d dropped his crummy excuse for a good-bye. “No.”

“What!” Ella shrieked. “This guy must be mental.”

“I know.” She wanted to change the subject. She hated to think that a guy she barely knew was able to get under her skin and unsettle her like this. She had other more important things to focus on—like her next account. How could she be so stupid to offer to see him again? And then have him just shrug it off like a jerk. Then again,
he
stuck to the plan, something she always did. Now look where deviating from the rules got her: horny and in need of Mr. Asshole Air Marshal Gandy Dick. She groaned and shifted in bed, trying to ignore the ache between her thighs. Dammit, she was so fucked. And not in the sense that she wanted to be.

She stared at the note again. Really, he’d done her a huge favor. Now she didn’t have to ever wonder about him again. In fact, she didn’t even want to vent about him to Ella. Before her sister could needle her for any more details, she quickly changed the subject. “Tell me about your elevator snafu.”

“Don’t even get me started. I was stuck in there for five hours with Sam.”

Abby could practically hear her sister’s eyes rolling.

She went on to tell Abby every delicious detail about her five hours with her archenemy from her rival attorney office.

Sounded like she had just as eventful of a weekend as Abby did. Maybe even more so.

By the time she finished, she had almost completely blanked out thoughts of Gage. Almost. She had a feeling it would be a long time before she forgot his smile. And his laugh. And the way he’d say something so unspeakably dirty it was just so right. Ugh. Why did someone so absolutely perfect for her have to live so far away…and not have an interest in seeing her again. Yeah, she’d need some ice for that burn.

She managed to get herself out of bed, and walked out to the living room to take one last look at the skyline. Her fingers ran down the window, the space right next to the sliding door. She leaned in toward the glass and gave a short puff of breath.

Gage and Abby were here
appeared along the glass, and Abby’s throat tightened. How long until the hotel staff washed it off? A day? A week? They’d be erased from the place like they’d never been here to begin with.

But that’s what this whole weekend was. A fantasy. She couldn’t live in this world full time because reality called, and come tomorrow, it would plow into her like a friggin’ semi truck. She had bigger fish to fry. Namely getting that damn promotion. She’d put every ounce of her newfound sexual frustration into her work, one case of blue balls—err, blue clit—at a time.

She moved over to the spot where he’d made her write a promise last night. Her breath hovered over the glass and
I, Abby Winters, promise to be true to my wishes
appeared.

She sighed. This was exactly why she hadn’t put herself out there to begin with. Somehow he’d ensnared her heart, taking a piece of it with him.

Screw it. Wishes didn’t come true. She earned stuff through hard work. Her fingers swiped over the message, smearing it into an unintelligible smudge.

Chapter Fifteen

“Final boarding call for Flight 351.”

Gage let out a deep breath and cussed under his breath. He shouldered his bag, walked up the jetway, and boarded the plane. This time he was on duty, so he had to alert the flight attendants of his presence ahead of time and then take his seat in first class.

Yep. Back to the grind.

He took a seat next to an elderly lady reading a book. Not watching porn. Didn’t even have a hint of anxiety. Just a quiet, boring passenger. Not Abby.

Fuck, he’d rather be in bed with her right now, her leg thrown over his waist as she curled up against his chest. Best damn feeling ever.

He scrubbed his hand over his face. Nope. Not going there. He’d left this morning without saying good-bye for a reason—so that she would have a clean break. But, hell, he wasn’t supposed to be all bent out of shape about it.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then let it out. Then took another breath. Okay, he could do this. As soon as the plane took off, he wouldn’t give her another thought.

The lady next to him bristled in her seat. Gage glanced out of the corner of his eye and noticed the book she was reading. No. Dammit. Of course, it had to be the book version of the porno Abby had watched on their flight together. Fuck. It. All. To. Hell.

This was karma biting him in the ass. Everything was going to remind him of Abby on this flight. Was that such a bad thing? She was one hell of a woman. More of a woman than his cowardly ass deserved.

He was so sure this morning that he was doing the right thing by leaving without a trace. And he knew the second his ass hit the airline seat he’d fucked up, royally. He hadn’t even gotten her number. He had no way of reaching her. She might as well be a ghost because now there was no way to make it right.

The thought of not seeing her again sent a hot jolt of panic and anger down his spine. He let this happen. He fucked up.

Think.

There had to be something that he could do.

Maybe by some stroke of luck she was still at the penthouse. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed the number to the hotel before the flight attendants made the final call before departure and made him put away his phone.

“The Winchester Hotel,” said a woman with a thick New York accent.

“I need to reach the person in room 4011.” Yes, he’d call her, set everything right. Give her his damn number. Maybe apologize profusely. Hell, if she
did
pick up, he wasn’t past a little groveling.

“Hold please.”

Gage’s heart pounded fiercely against his ribs as he waited to be put through. Each ring amped his frayed nerves.
C’mon sweetheart, pick up.

He
needed
her to pick up so he could apologize, beg for mercy, anything to get the chance to see her again.

The captain announced something through the speakers, but he wasn’t paying any attention to the flight. All he cared about was Abby picking up the phone.

A blonde flight attendant appeared in the entryway to the drink station in the front of first class and narrowed her eyes.

Not now, Blondie. All I need is one minute.

The phone was still ringing. Dammit, why was it still ringing? She should have picked up by now, but hell if he was going to hang up this phone, for any reason.

She smoothed her skirt and squared her shoulders, sauntering over to Gage. “Sir, you need to put your phone away.”

“Yes. Hold on.” He held a finger up to her to let her know he’d be done momentarily.

The flight attendant raised a perfectly arched brow and pursed her lips. She didn’t say anything, but the look alone was intimidating enough that he knew he had to wrap up the call fast or else she was going to send him dagger glares all throughout the flight.

Hell, she knew who he was. He’d tell her he was on call with the damn Pentagon if it meant completing this call.

Come on. Pick up. Please.

He could feel himself getting more frantic on each ring. He knew that the odds of her being in the penthouse were slim, but this was the only hope he had. If this didn’t work, he didn’t know where else to look.

The phone kept ringing, until finally it hit the voicemail. This was it. She was gone. He had no clue how to reach her, and it was all his fault. He could have easily left his phone number in the note, but he’d been a dumbass. He slid the phone back into his pocket and knocked his head against the seat.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. And then realized he needed to get his shit together, when the lady next to him tsked and gave him a dirty look. Right. How could he have forgotten he was working? There were people to profile, possible crises to avert. He didn’t have room right now to think about how bad he’d screwed up. There was time for that when he was in Atlanta waiting for his next flight.

He sank back in his seat and scrubbed his palms over his eyes. It took a few seconds to focus on the present, but when he opened his eyes, he blocked out the constant need to be back in that penthouse. He scanned the cabin, nothing seeming out of the ordinary. Most people were playing on their tablets or scanning magazines. And then there was granny next to him reading
that book.

That book that sparked everything.

The weekend had seemed to last only a handful of breaths, but Gage would spend the rest of his days reliving them and missing his brunette vixen.

…

Abby returned to the office the next morning feeling about as refreshed as the recycled air on the plane. Even though she’d showered, she could still feel that airline film plastered on her face. Her eyes were practically crusted shut—it was a miracle she could even keep them open to look at all the paperwork that had piled up on her desk over the long weekend.

She blew out a breath and tapped her pen against her desk. The real world blew now that she had a taste of fantasy. It was proving hard to focus on the contract she was working up with the Winchester to use their penthouse for filming. Her little oasis was going to be in a blockbuster hit, and she definitely wouldn’t be thinking about Gage when she went to the premier.

Rob knocked on the doorframe, steam from his mug of coffee swirling in the air. “Abby. I just saw the pictures you sent. Absolutely amazing. Great work.” He saluted her with his mug. “Not that I’d expect anything less.”

She smiled. But something didn’t feel right. A compliment from Rob used to mean everything. It was her whole point in life. Sad. But true. Now, she didn’t feel nearly as satisfied.

Oh, that jerk. He had to go and ruin her at work, too. Nothing seemed as important now. Maybe he’d done her a favor, putting things into perspective. Work really wasn’t the end-all-be-all, she was quickly realizing. It just would have been nice to find that out without putting her feelings on the line. It was much easier to be closed off to any type of relationship.

Now? Well, now her browser history was filled with the quest to find the perfect silicone companion. And Tumblr. Jesus, that place was a dirty, dirty rabbit hole of smexiness. She’d been home for less than twenty-four hours, and she’d turned into a completely different person. Hell, she’d take those naughty GIFs and her newly ordered pocket rocket and go down in a blaze of lusty glory.

What she wouldn’t do? Miss Gage one bit. Nope, not him being ten kinds of wonderful. Definitely not how he’d shown her what it was like to truly be taken care of in the bedroom, and how romance and chivalry weren’t dead. Okay, so she’d chew on those lies for at least a few weeks while she nursed her wounded pride. But really, romance ended. It was only real in novels and chick flicks, and news flash, last time she checked, she wasn’t in one. He’d done her a favor, really, because now that she knew what it was like to be all consumed by a weekend fling, she wouldn’t let her guard down again. It wasn’t worth the potential heartbreak.

She looked up and found her boss still standing there, sipping at his coffee. How long had she zoned out? Obviously not too long, if he hadn’t cleared his throat or given her funny looks.

Rob smiled at her again. “It’s the perfect location for Blurred Lines.”

“I think so, too.” Although, deep down, she felt a protective need to keep that penthouse to herself. A secret that only she and Gage kept. Which was ridiculous. It was a hotel penthouse suite. People used it. She wasn’t the first, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. She had no claim on it. And yet, she felt like she was being sucker punched in the gut. This was exactly why she kept to her planner. It was safe, sterile, and didn’t make her heart go into palpitations. Whatever. She needed to forget Gage as quickly as he’d been able to kick her to the curb.

“Keep this up and you’re looking good for taking over my position when I retire in a few months.”

“Thanks, Rob.” She sighed.
Dammit, muster up some enthusiasm, girl. You’ve been busting your tail for years for this.

“I’d like to send you to Dublin to scout out a new set for the Irish film that we just bought rights to. Would you be up for that next Thursday?”

“Sure thing.” Anything to keep her mind off this. So what if, for the second time this month, she’d be strapped into a hunk of metal that could plummet into the ground? At least her mind would be focused on something productive—like staying alive.

Jeremy would be so pissed. This should have given her a little thrill, because the man really needed to be taken down a few pegs, but a dull ache pulsed in her chest, and she didn’t know if she was exhibiting heart attack symptoms, or just the fact that she felt friggin’ empty for the first time in her life. She didn’t like this feeling. Not one bit. Damn Gage Michaels and his stupid magic dick with mind altering powers.

She wished she could go back to a couple weeks ago, when she was pleasantly numb to any form of human contact. That would be much preferable to this…she didn’t even know what
this
was.

The to-go coffee cup in her hand had turned cold, and she’d barely even taken two sips from it. Those two sips sent her back to the penthouse when Gage had brought her coffee in bed. Was that what nice guys did? Then again, nice guys didn’t slip out in the middle of the night—even if it was easier to deal with.