She studied his lowered head, reached out and rested her hand on his knee. “Did you lose someone in the war that was close to you? A squad member, perhaps?”
He chuckled and tugged on a piece of her hair, making her stomach tighten. Such a simple gesture, but its effects were staggering. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But this topic is closed, sweetheart.”
“Fine.” She withdrew her hand. “Then give me the biggest fear besides the one I’m not allowed to ask about?”
He leaned in closer. “It’s a good fear. Humiliating, even. But it’ll cost you.”
“What’s the price?”
“A kiss,” he whispered.
Ha. She would’ve done that for nothing. “People will see.”
“It’s not like we haven’t done that already. Besides, no one’s watching us.” He gestured at the other passengers. He was right. Most of them were sleeping or reading. No one was even remotely interested in the two of them. “Just one little kiss…”
Reaching out, she touched his hair. It was as soft as it looked, even though she’d first thought he had to use a whole can of hairspray to get it to fall so perfectly into place. No, he seemed to be naturally lucky with his hair. His face. His body. Everything, really.
She sighed, as if he was asking a lot of her. Let him stew on that. “Fine.”
Grabbing on to his shoulders, she melded her lips against his, kissing him with all of the pent up frustration and need coursing through her veins.
For the next few days, she’d have to be the Kayla Moriarity that her whole family thought she was. The girl they all thought hadn’t grown up yet. Tonight, on the plane with Cooper, would be all about her. The real her.
He trailed his fingers lightly over her shoulder. When his hands closed around her sides, his grip so close to her br**sts, she arched her back in invitation. He seemed to get the hint. He lifted the blanket up over their shoulders and then closed his palms over her completely.
They broke apart when someone coughed. He slid his hands away from her, and the blanket fell back to their laps. Kayla scanned the passengers, looking for any signs that they knew the two people in the back row were this close to getting it on.
No one was watching. Unbelievable.
She took a shaky breath and met his eyes. The way they blazed back at her almost broke her resolve to not strip naked here and now. “I think I more than earned your secret, didn’t I?”
“Hot damn.” He dropped his head back against the plane seat. Dragging his hand down his face, he shot her a disgruntled look and adjusted his position on the seat. She totally wanted to peek under the blanket and see how hard he was right now. “My secret is I’m terrified of public speaking. When I get up in front of a crowd of people, or someone hands me a microphone, I panic. And I’m not talking about babbling like a fool or anything. I just stand there. Not moving. Not talking. Nothing.”
She hadn’t expected that. To think he was scared of anything seemed ludicrous, but of speaking? The man had a natural charm that drew her in—certainly it worked on other people. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “One time at a Marine Corps Ball, they decided I should give a speech for the commander. I have a feeling my buddies had something to do with that, though they denied it.” He twisted his lips, his cheeks turning a little bit red. “One second, I’m sipping my drink and flirting with my date, the next they’re announcing my name and calling me up to the stage. I didn’t make a single intelligible peep, and I might have trembled under the spotlight, too. It was horrible. Needless to say, I went home alone that night.”
“Oh, man.” She covered her mouth with her hands to hide her grin. “That’s just wrong. I would’ve still gone home with you.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You would have?”
She nodded. “Totally. I like seeing weakness in men. It makes them more approachable.”
He gently ran his fingers through her curls, and tingles shot through her body. He seemed to like touching her hair, and she liked him playing with it. “I also suck at dancing. I tend to avoid it with a cold, bad-boy demeanor, but the truth is I’m horrible at it. Sometimes, I wish I could dance.”
“If there was room on this plane, I could help you with that. I happen to be an excellent dancer. My mom enrolled us in classes as kids.”
“Too bad we won’t see each other again. I’d take you up on that offer.”
She frowned and looked out the window. “Maybe I could show you after the flight lands? A quickie in the parking lot?”
His lips curved upwards and he dropped her hair. “I think your definition of quickie differs from mine.”
She met his eyes. “Are you so sure about that?”
“Kayla…” The smile faded away, and he cupped her cheek. “We could keep this easy or.” His hand tightened on her. “We can make this a night to remember. Your choice.”
Her heart sped up, and she looked away from him. “How long have you been single?”
“I refuse to be in a relationship when I deploy, and I’ve been deploying every year. So, suffice it to say I’ve been single for some time now. What about you?”
“I haven’t had, or wanted, a boyfriend in a ridiculously long time.”
“How long?
“Since college.” She fidgeted with her skirt some more, not looking up at him. “I’ve had a few meaningless encounters—friends with benefits—but no real relationships. But it’s by choice.”
“Why is that?”
“I really don’t believe in the institute of marriage being the thing that makes a woman whole. My old-fashioned family seems to think the only way I can be happy is if I have a man holding me up. Why should I encourage their limited views of the world by settling down with a guy who fits the part? You know, I saw so many childhood friends marry the first guy who came along just to have that ‘special day.’ But every day is my special day. I’m happy on my own.” She looked out the window. There was another reason she wasn’t being honest about. She might as well give him the whole answer since she’d told him everything else about herself minus her freaking bra size. “Plus, there’s the whole issue of love.”
He shifted his weight. “Meaning?”
“Well, I haven’t fallen in love yet—not like everyone else I know has. Not even close.” She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will, thus the reason I’m focusing more on myself at this point in my life. I don’t think I’m a good fit with the emotion. It requires too much blind trust and warm gushy feelings, while I prefer logic and cold calculations.”