Chapter 3

THREE

Kate

I strutdown the aisle of the first-class cabin, the plush carpet barely whispering beneath my stilettos. My dress is ruby red, like something out of an old Hollywood flick, only way more daring.

As I pass by the cockpit, there's something different in the air. It"s not the recycled cabin oxygen or the faint scent of coffee.

It"s him.

Ben Caldwell. Captain. Pilot extraordinaire. I catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, and my body goes tingly all over.

"Good evening, Miss Woodbridge," he says, his voice smooth like good whiskey.

"Evening, Captain," I reply, stepping closer than necessary to peek into his high-flying domain. There"s a twinkle in his dark eyes, the kind that says he's seen the world but is still capable of being surprised.

"Enjoying the view?" he asks, his grin daring me to flirt back.

"It's breathtaking." I'm not talking about the clouds, but he doesn't know that.

Our eyes lock, and it"s like the whole cabin fades away. There"s just me and him, with that strong jawline and hands that look like they could easily find their way around a...

I swallow.

"Safe travels, Miss Woodbridge," he finally says, but his eyes—they"re still chatting me up, making promises without words.

"Thanks, Captain," I blush as I make my way back to my seat, feeling his gaze on me every step of the way. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, and I can"t help but think this flight just got a heck of a lot more interesting.

I"ve tucked myself into a plush seat, the hum of the engines a steady lullaby, when I see him approach. Ben strolls down the aisle with the kind of swagger that comes from a thousand successful landings.

"Miss Woodbridge," he greets me, his voice as smooth as the top-shelf whiskey they serve up here. "Hope you don"t mind me dropping by."

"Of course not." I flash him a smile that"s a blend of Hollywood charm and private intrigue. "It"s not every day you get a personal visit from the pilot."

He leans against the seat across from mine, the epitome of casual elegance in his crisp uniform. "I couldn"t help overhearing you"re working on a new film. Anything you can share, or is it all hush-hush?"

"Wouldn"t you like to know?" I tease, crossing my legs and enjoying the way his eyes briefly follow the movement. "Let"s just say it"s a role with...layers. Like an onion—makes you cry but you can"t stay away."

"Sounds intriguing," Ben says with a chuckle. "And challenging. But then again, I suspect you enjoy a good challenge."

"Guilty as charged," I admit, leaning forward, elbows on knees. "But enough about me, Captain. What"s the most daring thing you"ve ever done? And no fair saying "flying a plane" because we both know that"s a Tuesday for you."

Ben smiles, and there"s a twinkle in his eye that suggests he has stories that could rival any script I"ve read. "Well, there was this one time I flew a Hollywood starlet around..."

I laugh.

His eyes are like warm caramel, drawing me in, stirring something low in my belly.

"Let"s see...There was the time a passenger proposed mid-flight. Had the whole cabin in tears."

"Aw, a romantic," I say, heart fluttering a bit. This flight"s turning into more than just a means to an end. It"s becoming a scene straight out of the romance flicks I swore I"d never do—but damn if I"m not considering signing up for one now. "You ever get tempted? To just...jet off somewhere exotic with someone you barely know?"

"Every day," he admits, and our gazes lock. It"s a look that feels full of promises, the kind that could lead to tangled sheets or racing hearts—or both.

"Your turn," he says, breaking the tension with a grin. "Share a slice of Kate Woodbridge life. What"s one thing you"ve done that would shock the tabloids?"

"Besides entertaining a handsome stranger at this altitude?" My voice is light, but there"s truth woven into the tease. "Well, once, I snuck into a music festival undercover. No bodyguards, no glam squad. Just me, lost in a sea of sweat and beats. It was...liberating."

"Sounds like it." Ben leans back, chuckles low and inviting. "Maybe after we land, you can sneak away with me."

"Maybe," I echo, the word hanging between us like a promise waiting to be kept.

"Well, I'd better get back to the cockpit. Check on my co-pilot." He rises reluctantly, and I try to hide my pout as he leaves.

And then I blink because holy fuck. Has a man ever affected me this way?

We go on the rest of the flight that way. His visits become more frequent, excuses thinner, but I don"t mind. Not when every pass by my seat sends shivers down my spine. Not when every shared story adds another layer to the mystery that is Ben Caldwell, the man who"s quickly becoming my favorite co-star in this high-flying romance.

The hum of the aircraft is a steady backdrop to the buzzing in my veins as I settle back into the plush seat. The first-class cabin feels more like a cocoon now, intimate and with a hint of something I can"t quite name. Maybe it"s anticipation. Maybe it"s desire.

I glance over to where Ben has just re-entered the cockpit, his stride confident, his smile lingering in my direction before he disappears behind the door. My heart does this little skip—a beat out of rhythm, dancing to a tune that"s all about him.

As the flight resumes, I find myself peering down the aisle, hoping for another glimpse. It"s ridiculous. I"m Kate Woodbridge, for heaven"s sake—I shouldn"t be getting giddy over a pilot"s smile, no matter how dashing it is.

"Something to drink, Ms. Woodbridge?"

It"s one of the flight attendants, her eyes kind, but I wave her off with a small smile. "No, thank you." I need to keep my head clear. But oh, how I crave something stronger than water to quell the fluttering in my stomach.

The moments stretch on, each minute ticking by heavy with unspoken words and what-ifs. And then, there he is again, stepping out from his holy sanctuary like some sort of guardian angel in navy blue. But angels don"t look at you like that—like they"re undressing you with their eyes and finding every secret you"ve ever kept.

"Enjoying the flight?" Ben asks, leaning against the edge of my seat, casual as can be.

"More than usual," I reply, my voice sounding breathier than I intend. Our eyes lock, and there"s that electric charge, crackling through the space between us.

He chuckles, a low, rich sound that rumbles through me. "Glad to hear it."

We"re interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign, and I have to tear my gaze away to fasten mine, hating the timing. When I look up, Ben's hand is hovering near mine, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin. He reaches past me, pretending to adjust the overhead vent, and his fingers brush my shoulder. It"s the lightest touch, but it might as well be a brand.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he murmurs, close enough that I catch the hint of mint on his breath.

"Will do," I manage, feeling like I"ve swallowed a mouthful of cotton.

He straightens up and heads back to the cockpit, and I'm left with the imprint of his touch seared into my skin. It"s going to be a long flight.

Time slips by, and I drift in and out of a restless doze, thoughts filled with dark hair, mischievous eyes, and smiles that promise untold stories. When I finally snap awake, there"s a softness in the air, a quiet that tells me we"re not far from landing.

And then there"s a note, pressed into my hand so stealthily that I almost miss the movement. I look up, startled, and meet Ben"s gaze across the cabin. There"s a devilish tilt to his lips, and I unfold the paper with trembling fingers.

Meet me for a drink when we land? -B

My pulse races, and the cabin pressure has nothing on the way my head spins right now. This is crazy, absolutely insane. I"m Kate Woodbridge, and a pilot with a note shouldn"t turn my world upside down.

But as I look at those simple words, written in a strong, sure hand, I realize something important—maybe I want my world flipped on its axis.

I tuck the note into the satin lining of my clutch, a secret pact between the sleek leather and my suddenly daring heart. The cabin feels charged now, every hum of the engine a whisper of what"s to come. I steal a glance toward the cockpit and wait for the chime that signals we"re free to move. As if on cue, it dings through the cabin, and I push out of my seat with a grace I don"t feel.

I glance over at my agent. She's still fast asleep.

Good.

I pace slowly, ensuring each click of my heels asserts my confidence. When I pass by the cockpit, our eyes catch—a conspiracy in glances—and I drop the slightest of nods. It"s all the confirmation he needs. My stomach flutters like it"s hosting a swarm of butterflies.

The rest of the flight drags on, minutes stretching into eons as anticipation curls within me. I"m a film star. I"ve mastered the art of patience before cameras and crews. Yet this waiting game Ben has me playing? It"s delicious torture.

Finally, we land, and I"m the picture of composure as we disembark. But beneath the surface? I"m all fizzing excitement and heated skin, ready to bubble over. We snake through the terminal, and there"s a magnetic pull between us, invisible but palpable.

In the lounge, the world narrows down to just us—Ben leaning casually against the bar, looking like a daydream in his pilot"s uniform. We"re alone here, cocooned in this suspended reality between time zones and destinations.

"Kate," he says, his voice low and smooth as aged whiskey, "glad you could join me."

"Couldn"t miss it," I reply, my tone airy but my insides tight with nerves. "You know I have a weakness for good company and bad decisions."

"Who said anything about bad?" He grins, and it"s infectious, pulling an answering smile from deep within me.

"Maybe just risky then," I tease back, feeling the heat in his gaze as it sweeps over me.

"Life"s too short for safe landings," he quips, and we both chuckle, the sound mingling with the soft jazz playing overhead.

We talk, we laugh, and every so often, our hands brush, sending jolts of electricity up my arm. The air around us crackles with unspoken promises, each touch a wordless vow of what"s yet to unfold.

But then Marilyn—my agent—shows up and puts an end to it all.

She rakes a gaze over Ben like he's a bug that needs to be quickly squashed before she levels her eyes on me. "Kate," she sounds like a helicopter mom, "I've been looking all over for you, sweetie. Come on. Let's get you checked into your suite."

She continues yammering on as she gently takes my arm and propels me away from Ben without so much as a word to him.

I look back at him and find him smiling, completely unworried about the way my agent ignored him.

He only has eyes for me.

I mirror his expression, letting my smile say everything my words cannot.

Yes, I"m attracted to you too.

Yes, I"m impatient.

And yes, oh yes, I"m yours for the taking.

Our connection pulses, a heartbeat thrumming through the airport, promising turbulence of the best kind.