Fighting for Flight JB Salsbury (room on the broom read aloud .TXT) 📖

when you come out for the fight. She’s been staying with me, so I guess that will give you guys a chance to get to know each other.”

“Oh, honey, that would be wonderful. I can’t wait.”

“Shit, Ma! You thought I was gay! Fuckin’ hell.”

“Jonah Ryan Slade, you watch that mouth!”

After giving her the details I’ve arranged for her flight, I finish up with my mom and go back to preparing dinner. While pulling out some vegetables to grill, I hear the front door open.

“Baby! I’m in here,” I yell from the kitchen.

The soft beat of her Converse against the tile floor has me smiling. Her chest presses into my back as her arms wrap around my waist.

“Hey,” she says softly into my back, and bringing on an even bigger smile.

I turn around and wrap my arms around her, placing a wet kiss against my spot over the tattoo on her neck. The pear scent of her hair, combined with the sweet taste of her skin, is a heady mixture. I trail kisses along her jaw then pull at her lips with mine. After a little coaxing, she tilts her head, always eager, but making me work for it. Perfect. My tongue explores, gliding against the roof of her mouth and her teeth. Sucking on her lips, I slowly pull back. We lock eyes, panting and hungry, giving our blood a chance to cool.

She looks past my arm at the fish. “Mmm, is that swordfish?” Her voice carries a different kind of hunger.

“Yeah, you ready to eat?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I grab an iced tea for her, and we head out to light the grill. We settle ourselves at the bar. It’s getting warmer, but the outdoor misting system and ceiling fans make the temperature perfect for eating outside.

“How was shopping?” I grab myself a Muscle Milk from the outdoor cooler.

“Good. How was your day?”

I pop the top off my drink, take a swing, and lean a hip on the bar. “Infinitely better if those bags I heard you drop at the door are pink.”

“How did you know?” She sips her tea that I’ve sweetened and added lemon to, just like she likes it. “Mmm.” She takes another sip.

“Babe, if you keep this up, you’re going to have to take on a sponsor. And I’d like to be the first to volunteer.”

“I only buy the stuff that’s on sale.” She sets down her drink and traces patterns into the condensation on the glass. “I know I don’t make much now, but I will. I have a plan.”

Why am I not surprised? I take a few steps to the barstool next to her and drop down. “What’s your plan?”

She shrugs and drops her eyes to her lap. Her delicate hands knot together, something I notice she does before she opens up about something personal, so I wait patiently.

“Guy said when he retires he’s handing ownership of the shop to me. He has no children of his own, and he knows I love the garage.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” I lean back and prop my feet on the bar.

She fixes me with a glare, but the shadow of a smile plays on her lips. “Wow? Is it that hard to believe?”

“Not a lot of women dream of owning their own auto body shop.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” her shoulders slump and she picks at her nails, “I’m not like most women.”

“No, baby, you certainly are not.”

She peers up at me from beneath her eyelashes. “It would be nice to own a business, make my own hours. If I’m ever lucky enough to get married and have kids, it’ll make things easier.” Her cheeks turn pink and she hides behind her tea.

My mind conjures up images of Raven, her belly swollen with a baby. And like the flicker of an old home movie, pictures flash of her cradling a dark-haired infant. Scattered visions of dark pigtails, training wheels, and ballet recitals manifest behind my eyes.

“Holy shit.” I grind my fists into my eye sockets, rubbing out the fantasy. That has never happened to me before. Never.

“You okay?”

I shake it off, pull it together, and attempt to hide the full-fledged freak out that’s bubbling to the surface.

“Yeah, fine. Just a-a weird headache or s-something.” I’m fucking stuttering!

Time for evasive maneuvers. I breathe deep, and fix my eyes on hers. The concern in her face dissolves into an easy smile. I smile back, making sure it’s bright enough to expose both dimples. It’s a desperate move, but it works. She licks her full lips, slowly rubbing them together in anticipation of what’s coming. As I’m leaning in, happy to give her what she wants, the muffled sound of her phone fills the air.

“Whoops, sorry.” She grabs her phone from her pocket. Glancing down at the caller ID, her eyebrows scrunch and mouth goes tight.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize the number.”

“Answer it, baby.”

She nods and hits the answer button before pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hello.” Her pleasant smile quickly fades. Her body shoots ramrod straight, and the color drains from her face.

Twelve

Jonah

What the hell? Blood pumps in my ears, and a mild buzz starts at the base of my neck.

“I’m fine.” She’s being polite to the mystery caller, but her voice is completely void of its usual spunk.

Alarms fire in my head.

Her eyes snap up to mine and widen a fraction. “Meet with you tomorrow?”

I’m up from my barstool and standing at her side. Less than a foot away, I’m able to make out the voice coming through her phone. I can’t hear exact words, but the low mumbles are undoubtedly male. Fuck.

“Um . . . I don’t know. I mean, why now?” She looks at her lap and rubs her forehead with her free hand.

The man on the phone mumbles on, and she worries her bottom lip. Her eyes hit mine, and a tiny spark of my Raven is back. “Okay, see you then.”

She hangs up the phone and stares at it in her hand as if she doesn’t