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Authors: Kate Stewart

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BOOK: Anything but Minor
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Dutch
never
had company. In the years I’d been playing at Anchor Park, I’d never seen a single person sit next to her. I was used to the noise she made, but when I saw a pint-sized woman with a loud mouth echo next to her, I almost blew my first pitch. That had never happened...until tonight.

I glanced over my shoulder to see she was still there. She looked comfortable but alone. I studied her for a spell. Her blonde hair was a mess under that red hat. Underneath were large doe eyes and suckable, plump lips. I’d watched her chest heave when she’d panicked and saw a perfect quarter sized set of nipples strain against her tank.

I’d spent the first twenty minutes at the bar trying to ignore the image of those nipples and failed.

“You pitch like that this season, there’s no stopping you,” Andy said as he sipped his beer and looked in the same direction I was with a smirk. “She’s out of your league.”

“And you think that because?”

“She has manners. She said crud, not
shit
. She’s reserved and doesn’t have her legs spread. Not your type.”

“Just because you have a hard-on for your help doesn’t make you a saint,” I said with my own smirk as Andy’s face hardened. He glanced over at the bartender, Kristina. Relief covered his features as he realized she hadn’t heard then he gave me his death glare.

“So you changing your mind or what? You still have good years left.”

“Nope, this is it, so you better make it good,” he quipped. “As soon as you get the call, I’m out.”

“You’re just going to brew beer and run this bar for the rest of your life.”

“I’ve played my seasons. It’s time,” he said with conviction.

“You’ll miss it,” I stated with the same certainty.

“Maybe...Fuck, I know I will.” He shook his head in aggravation. “My mind’s made up. Let it go. The focus is on you this season. They’re going to call.”

“Let’s just put it out there,” I said, aggravated. “This is my last—”

Andy cut me off with a look of understanding and his signature “Fuckin’ A.”

I clinked glasses with him and turned back to look at the blonde who made me more curious by the minute.

“Fuck it, I’m going in,” I said as I finished my beer and set it on the bar.

“Too late and it’s a good thing,” Andy said with authority as I looked over my shoulder and caught her walk out the door. “This season, no distractions.”

 

After a week of preflight instructions came the fun part. Locked in the cabin of the simulator, one by one I repetitively guided each pilot through the basic steps of the dashboard, detail by detail. Exhausted by the first few hours, I almost didn’t recognize the mouthwatering hint of cologne and deep blue eyes of the newest pilot who took the seat next to me.

“I read your flight log. Pretty impressive,” he said as his eyes roamed over the controls with familiar confidence before landing on me.

I smiled in welcome. “Thanks.”

“Trey,” he said, extending his hand to me.

“Call me Alice,” I said, giving him a brief but firm shake.

“Al-ice,” he said with appreciation as he gave me a broad smile.

“The first thing you need to know,” I said as I pointed out protocol, “is—”

“I’ve done my homework,” he said as I lifted a brow. “How about I give it a try, and you let me know how I’m doing?”

I looked at him skeptically. “That’s not really the suggestion of—”

“Just give me a shot here,” he whispered while a different kind of suggestion played off his tongue. I finally took the time to appreciate him as we stood and switched seats.

“This is an eighteen million dollar plane, Captain,” I warned.

“I take care of my valuables,” he whispered, now in complete control. I studied his profile as he initiated flight with every step perfectly. His dark blond hair was combed back neatly. He wore a white dress shirt, dark khaki chinos, and tan boots. His flight skills were impressive, his appearance remarkable. I’d always imagined the man of my dreams as another pilot simply because we would have a solid foundation on our one thing in common: the love of flying.

As Trey picked up speed and sent us both into the computer generated clear skies, I briefly wondered if it was a beginning.

I ran through the spring drizzle toward Anchor Park, a far cry from yesterday’s perfect weather, to meet Dutch at the gates. She was covered head to toe in yellow plastic and rubber, her weathered face the only thing protruding from her get up. She looked like a rubber duck, a disgruntled rubber duck.

“They’ll probably tarp the field but here...” She extended a bright red poncho that matched my hat.

“Thanks,” I said as I wrapped myself in the plastic just as the rain picked up.

We made our way to the nearly empty stadium as the teams warmed up. My eyes drifted over the players and landed directly on Rafe, who seemed to be looking our way. Dutch gave him a short wave, and he nodded, his attention directed at me. I felt my cheeks flush slightly as I kept my head down, still a little embarrassed about the previous night.

Within two innings of a downpour, the weather shut the game down as it flooded the stadium, and Dutch and I with it. We said quick goodbyes with a promise to meet the following day, twenty minutes to game time, as I scurried out to the street. The water was already over a foot deep and climbing as I plowed through the street in front of Anchor Park directly across to the parking lot. The rain was cold and unforgiving as it covered both my feet and I attempted to flee. As I approached my Prius, I stood back in shock just as the tires started to be consumed by water.

“OH MY GOD!”

Just as fast as I realized my new car was in danger, a large F350 pulled up next to me and a window let down. “They don’t call this the low country for no reason, doll. Get in.” I looked in the cab of the truck to see Andy looking over my shoulder with concern. “The tides coming in. You aren’t getting out of here in that tin can. You might as well weather the storm and see if she survives.”

“I’m not leaving my brand new car to drown!” I said, exasperated.

“You have about ten minutes until you both do,” he said with a smile. I realized then the water was close to knee high. I’d parked in front of the riverbank, and it was pouring onto the grass next to it.

“Thanks, I’ll just move it.”

“It’s too late to get it to the upper deck. The streets are done. We need to go.” I looked past the gravel behind me and saw the streets were running with at least two feet of water.

“But—”

Before I could get my argument out, the back door of Andy’s cab opened and a shirtless Rafe came toward me with purpose. I was just about to address him when he scooped me into his arms. My body reacted before I had a chance to think it through. I saw his eyes widen as he dropped me to the flooded ground beneath us.

We both began choking, and Andy roared with laughter as both Rafe and I fought for air. I pushed off the ground, spitting water out of my mouth as Rafe placed a hand on his knee and glared at me while he massaged his throat with the other.

“What the fuck, woman!”

“You don’t go barging toward a woman who doesn’t know you and scoop her up, moron!”

“Well, you don’t throat punch a man for trying to keep your stubborn ass from drowning!”

All words left me as the unrelenting water poured over the both of us and we stared each other down. I was completely thrown as I studied his perfect body.

Arms, abs, abs, more abs, abs, abs, abs.

Rafe cursed and made his way to the back of the truck and jumped in. I watched helplessly as the water rose over the tires of my Prius.

“Come have a few beers with us. When the rain slows, we’ll come back,” Andy summoned as Rafe pulled out a fresh t-shirt from a duffle bag in the back of the cab and put it on. I stood there weighing my options and relented when I realized there really was only one.

I pulled myself into the massive blue truck and put on my seatbelt.

Andy looked at Rafe in the rearview and chuckled as Rafe tried to silently clear his throat and then turned his attention to me.

“So...?”

“Alice,” I said as I pulled his passenger mirror down and pushed the plastic wrap off of my head along with my hat. I fisted my hair in a ponytail and pulled it through the elastic on my wrist.

“Alice,” Andy said as if his friend fuming in the back seat made no difference to him at all. “Ignore Rafe. He was already half-cocked because the game was canceled.” He grinned back at Rafe before he took off. His truck plowed easily through the rising water. “So how do you know Dutch?” I caught Rafe’s curious glance and pushed the mirror back up.

“I just met her last night,” I said as the two shared a confused look in the rearview.

“She let you sit in Herb’s chair,” Andy said in slight shock.

“Yes, she told me her husband died, and I could have his seat.”

“That woman has occupied those two chairs since the stadium opened and never sat with anyone, let alone gave away his seat,” Andy remarked.

Still soaked and terrified for my Toyota, I shrugged. “She let me.”

“Huh...” This seemed like a mystery to both men in my company. A brief silence followed before Andy spoke up. “So what do you do?”

“I’m a flight instructor at Boeing.”

Andy winked at Rafe again in the rearview as I rolled my eyes. “So you’re a pilot?”

“Yes, I studied aeronautics and got my masters at Cornell. I just moved here last week.”

“Cornell,” Andy said again with a smug smirk. “Hear that, Rafe?”

“Impressive,” he said in an uninterested tone.

I snapped my head back and faced him head on. “I use my brains instead of my brawn to make a living. How do you see that working out for you?”

Rafe smiled then, and not just any smile, one that said he’d seen me naked. “Brawn’s working out just fine for me.”

I rolled my eyes and faced forward.

I had to fuck her.

It’s all I thought about on the way to the bar. The woman was tiny but had just the right amount of everything from what I’d gathered at the bar last night, including the sexiest brown eyes I’d ever seen. But it was the fire in them that I wanted to feed off of.

Andy made small talk as I studied her profile. She was covered in plastic and still appealed more to me than half the ass I’d bedded in the last few months.

“So you go in and teach a bunch of pilots to fly every day?” Andy asked with interest.

“Yeah, pretty much. There’s a newly built plane, so I’m getting them ready to pilot it.”

“Like Kelly McGillis in Top Gun,” he said with a wink.

She turned to him and gave him a full smile. “And you’re like Sam Malone from Cheers.”

As if on cue, they fist bumped, and she...giggled.

“So, are you single?” Andy said as he looked her over.

Wait. A. Fucking. Minute.

I glared at Andy in the rearview, and he gave me a deviant smile.

“I am,” she said with a nod. “I’ve been flying for the last two years since I graduated. I haven’t had much time for anything else.”

“Well, welcome to Charleston,” Andy said with a hint of pure southern bullshit. I had no idea what angle he was playing, but I knew he wasn’t interested in Alice. He’d been in love with Kristina for two damned years.

BOOK: Anything but Minor
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