Crash Landing by Lori Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

you. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
    “No, really. Go on. I want to hear your thoughts.”
    “It’s just that...”
    “What?”
    “When will you have enough money to earn your stepfather’s love?”
    “That’s not what I’m doing.”
    “All right.”
    “It’s not.”
    “You never did answer my question about what it is you want.”
    “Food. I’m starving. I forgot to eat lunch. You got anything to eat?” he asked.
    She didn’t poke his answer. She’d done enough prodding. “There are snacks in a box in the seat behind you.”
    He undid his seat belt; twisted around, found the box of snacks. “Hey, graham crackers. I haven’t had those since I was a kid.”
    “They’re my favorite.”
    “You ever make s’mores?”
    “I’ve got the makings for s’mores in that box.”
    “And so you do!” he said, pulling out a bag of marshmallows and some chocolate bars. “How come you fly around with the makings for s’mores in your plane?”
    “I take my nieces and nephews out camping sometimes.”
    He crunched a graham cracker, held one out to her.
    She took the cracker and their fingers brushed in the handoff. His touch ignited something hot and irresistible inside her. To distract herself, she stuck the cracker in her mouth.
    “I haven’t made s’mores since Scott and I camped out in his parents’ backyard, like I said,” Gibb mused.
    Sophia tried to imagine him as a young boy, but she couldn’t picture it. “Maybe you two could make s’mores again. Once you break up his wedding.”
    “You’re making me sound like an ass.”
    “I never said that.”
    “You didn’t have to.”
    “Sounds to me like you’re feeling guilty,” she commented.
    “About how long do you think it will take for us to get to Key West?” he asked.
    “Factoring in fuel stops, depending on the weather, I’d say at least fifteen hours. Maybe fourteen, if we’re lucky and don’t run into a headwind, but it could be longer.”
    “Is this as fast as the plane will go?”
    “Yes. If you wanted faster, you should have called for a private jet.”
    “Privacy is more important than speed at this point,” he said.
    “Then sit back and relax and let me do my job.”
    “I’m not very good at that.”
    “What? Letting go of control or relaxing?”
    “Either. Both.”
    “All the more reason to surrender,” she said.
    “Easy to say, not so easy to do.”
    “Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”
    “I’d—”
    “I’m the pilot,” she interrupted. “It’s an order.”
    “Are you always this bossy?”
    “Only with certain clients.”
    He surprised her by closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.
    Sometime later, she peeked over at him again. Gibb was sound asleep. Good.
    They had passed over Nicaragua and were above the Caribbean Sea. She peered out the window and through the wisp of clouds, spied a petite lush green jungle island with a thin apron of beach lying due south. The island looked completely uninhabited, no roads, no structures, too small and isolated for anyone to live there. It wasn’t even on the aerial map. What a thrill. Discovering a place she’d never known existed.
    For the next several minutes, she navigated smoothly through patches of harmless midlevel, horizontal altostratus clouds with a flat, uniform structure. The fine mist of the altostratus parted easily and caused no turbulence.
    She had radioed the last tower before leaving Nicaraguan airspace. She’d wanted an update on the tropical storm brewing in the Caribbean and received an all clear about the weather. So it was something of a surprise when she sailed through the last batch of stratus clouds and came face-to-face with a wide, vertical band of wooly clouds. They were in the exact direction where they needed to fly.
    Sophia sighed. “Shoot.”
    Gibb opened one eye. “What is it?”
    “Cumulus.”
    “Cum what?” He straightened in the seat, opened his other eye and instantly wore a cocky expression on his