A Flying Affair by Carla Stewart Read Free Book Online Page A

sister’s wedding and she would have a grand time if it killed her. The best man, who told her his name was Bernard, trampled on her feet and attempted conversation, but Mittie only nodded and pretended the music was too loud for her to hear. When the dance was over, she handed him off to Caroline, who had decided she wanted to dance after all if Mittie would find her dancing partners. Maybe Bernard would be gentler with a child who scarcely came to his chest. Mittie didn’t lack for ready partners herself as she twirled and danced with all of the groomsmen, her daddy, the secretary of the Saddlebred Association, and a courteous gentleman who told her he was the governor of Alabama.
    Iris floated by in Hayden’s arms and said, “I haven’t seen Ames. Is he here?”
    Mittie shook her head. “Guess he couldn’t make it.” Then while the soloist crooned “The Sheik of Araby,” she found herself getting her toes mangled by Bernard once again and was ready to holler uncle when a new partner cut in. Strong arms encircled her waist and clasped her right hand. She blinked, her breath trapped in her chest.
    Ames.
    Rakish and handsome, Ames looked for all the world like a white knight in a cream tuxedo with a black bowtie and cummerbund. She leaned in close and said, “It took you long enough.”
    “You didn’t give me much time to get my wardrobe organized.”
    “Looks like you must’ve gotten that from some dandy.”
    “Anything for the lady.”
    “Well, you’re the nattiest guy in the room—I’ll give you that. And thanks for rescuing me.”
    “And you’re the foxiest giraffe I’ve ever seen.”
    The music had ended, and they stood with eyes locked, both of Ames’ arms now dropped to her waist. A tingle traveled up her spine as she lost herself in the warmth of his gaze.
    The band announced a short break, so Mittie grabbed Ames’ hand and threaded her way back to the table, pulling him along with her.
    “Daddy, Mother, I’ve someone for you to meet.” She introduced Ames, and when her dad asked what line of work he was in, Ames startled her by saying, “Aeronautical design and development.”
    Raised eyebrows from her daddy. “I hear that’s the up-and-coming thing.”
    “Certainly is, sir.”
    “What corporation are you with?”
    “I’m independent, trying to garner interest for a new carburetor intake mechanism that will increase fuel efficiency.”
    Mittie had to remind herself not to gape. Here she thought Ames was just a barnstormer with Casanova good looks and a fresh line.
    Her dad nodded. “Guess you met Mittie out at Bowman Field, then?”
    “You might say that. Sure was a stroke of good fortune on my part.”
    Mittie’s mother eyed her curiously and leaned in to whisper in Mittie’s ear. “So this is the one who’s supposed to make me swoon?” The down-turned corners of her mouth were assurance there was no possibility of needing to call for smelling salts for her mother. With a firm hand on Mittie’s elbow, her mother steered them a few paces away from the conversation between Ames and her dad.
    “Do you know his family or even one single thing about this man?”
    “I know that he’s accomplished at what he does, intelligent, and I rather like him.”
    “Pedigree, my child. Pedigree.” She waved at a state senator and a woman who looked too young to be his wife. “You would do well to take a page from Iris, Mittie.”
    “Oh, look. Mrs. Wainwright is coming this way. Hurry on, Mother. You don’t want to keep her waiting.”
    The band was tuning up again onstage, so her dad told Ames to enjoy the dancing. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
    The first number was a cheek-to-cheek song, “Someone to Watch over Me,” and Ames smoothly swept her across the floor. Although there were no stalls and spin maneuvers in his steps, every time Mittie gazed into Ames’ dark eyes, her stomach did a dive.
    Three dances later, Mittie felt a tug on her arm. Caroline stood tapping an