Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (13 page)

CHAPTER 13

I
n three more
hours, she’d be safe on a flight to Vallarta. Until then, Houston had a lounge. Crappy food, but a lounge to hide in nonetheless.

She offered to finish Jessica and Kelly’s breakdown so Ben would be long gone from the D concourse. But she’d still have to lie low. Doctors Without Borders…that meant he might be heading to the international gates, too. But at least she could be certain he wasn’t heading to Puerto Vallarta, one of the richest hubs for international expats and vacationers in Mexico. No, he’d probably be heading on to somewhere decrepit and needy—whatever made him feel important and righteous. Then he’d play that righteous role to get some other pathetic soul into bed.

Whatever. Hey, maybe she had nothing to worry about; maybe he was at baggage claim already. His girlfriend or wife
Jamie
texting that she had the minivan parked outside baggage claim with their two and a half kids. And the dog.

And his wedding ring was probably in that
super-organized
man-purse
of his. Yeah, that black leather
murse
she’d forgotten to make fun of last night at the bar. A fucking murse.
Jesus
.

But why would he be gone out of country for a year if he had kids? Even to “do good”?

Hello, Preeya.
Her own mother had left her and her sister “to do good”—permanently.

What did it matter, anyway? She was just lucky that the asshole clued her in before she got taken. Oh God, like Hannah, who she’d met in FA school then flew with her for a year before Hannah quit altogether. That girl was so sweet, fell for this guy she’d met on a
red-eye
to Philly. A year of pretend later, she found her doting dream man at the baggage claim. Greeted by a wife and
in-laws
.

Yeah, Preeya was super lucky Ben hadn’t made it twelve hours before his truth leaked out.

Because the way he’d been with her at the bar, in the hotel room—all night long—she could have been deeply taken. Easily. Maybe worse than Hannah. And worse than Preeya’d ever been taken before, by Josh all those years ago, or by any other person, place, or thing, for that matter.

Her phone buzzed her back to the present.
Gigi
.

Her heart warmed. “Hey, Geej.”

“You made it, then. To Houston?”

“Yeah, finally in Houston.”

“Weird vibes last night…like superhuman good ones…”

“Yes, well, I
did
have an amazing night,” Preeya said, completely unsurprised that Gigi felt it—it was that damn powerful. “But it was shattered with unkind reality by morning.” Preeya adjusted the earbud in her left ear, then grabbed her roller bag’s handle and began walking toward the Jetta Air lounge.

“Again?” Gigi asked. “You’re having a good few days, Pree.”

“Yes, again, and yes, a really good string of days and bad clichés. This morning’s beat all, though. He called me by another woman’s name, Geej.”

“Ouch, sweetie…I’m sorry. But hey, did you at least get your kicks?” That’s Gigi,
silver-lining
sleuth to the core.

And yes, she had—she had gotten her night
kicks—
incredible waves of kicks
…
followed by a huge kick to the ego in the morning. “Yeah, Geej, but that’s so far from enough anymore. So not enough, by
light-years
.”

“I know, Pree, I know. And you deserve more,” she said, then giggled, not matching the context of their conversation at all.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Sorry, it’s just…stop! Rod is tickling my feet. Stop it!”

Preeya closed her eyes. She pictured her best friend on a couch in front of a TV, having her doting, attentive boyfriend rubbing and tickling her toes. Like Evan used to do, which at the time she’d hated.
Then.
God, she was an idiot, wasn’t she?

But she loved hearing Gigi happy. “Tell him hey for me, Geej.”

“Preeya says hi. He’s waving back.” Gigi giggled again then sighed. “So, Pree, what next? On to Vallarta?”

“Yeah, but since I’m missing the wedding”—she looked at her phone for the time—“as we speak, and the airline already gave me the vacation days, I’ll have a few forced days of alone time.”

“I know you hate that, sweetie.”

“I do, but it’ll be…good…for me. Right? Won’t it be good for me?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. And when you get sick of yourself, I’m here. As usual. Call anytime, always…oh shut up, Rod…yes, anytime.” Preeya heard Rod’s muffled exclamation of pain—Gigi probably hit him hard in the arm.

Preeya smiled. Gigi was her rock, always and forever. “I will probably cave and call you at hour two of my
solo-cation
,” she said, pausing to read the overhead signs to get her bearings—
destination Jetta Air lounge
—because more recently, all of the larger international hub layouts merged together in her brain. She squinted at the large sign’s possibilities, then, finding her target and following the arrow, the Jetta Air crew lounge was only some fifty feet away.

“Pree, you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Geej, sorry.” She veered right and weaved her way toward her next safe haven. “I’m just—”

A hand took her wrist.

She spun around, half ready to knock someone in the shins with a big swing of her
carry-on
, and half ready to greet some pilot or FA she’d worked with. Either way, any and all words escaped her, so she looked at the large hand clutching her wrist and then up at the owner’s face. In awe.

Why was she so shocked?
The largest airport hub in the world can’t circumvent fate, Preeya.

“What the hell happened to you, Preeya?”

She narrowed her eyes at Dr. Ben Trainer, then glared at his hand. Still on her goddamn wrist. Yanking her arm from his clutches, she knocked her roller back over, the hard casing made a loud thud against the tile floor.

They both bent down to grab the bag and its extended handle until she growled low and deep. “I got it.”
Because first off, fuck karma, fate, Mom—all of
it.

Second, did he think she was a total fucking idiot?
What
happened?

Through her phone at her ear, a muffled but escalating voice. “Preeya? What have you got, Pree?”

“Geej, gotta go.” She ended the call and stared at her phone screen. Thinking.
Damn it.
Just a matter of feet before the lounge entrance, too. She stole a deep breath.
He’s not even worth getting heated up over. Just keep
cool.

Composed and calm, she peered at him, focusing on his nose—not his eyes, not his lips—just the very tip of his nose. She cleared her throat and hunted for a
mellow-sounding
intonation. “What do you mean?”
Too shaky, Pree. And lower.
She let her primo FA smile surface. “I’m taking my break before my next leg.”
Because, asshole, the flight is work for me, not a leisurely stroll through the clouds, you know?
“Did you have a nice flight?” Sweet as saccharine.

“Preeya, come on…what’s the damn deal?” Then he moved a step closer. “Why’d you sneak out? No word…nothing. We had such an amazing time last night. Really…something…”

God, she was not going there. Before opening her mouth in reply, Jessica and Kelly strolled past, tilted their heads, then whispered among themselves all the way into the lounge. “I had
thought
so.”
Don’t, Preeya.
She just needed to end it there. “But you gotta know, it was the alcohol talking…working. It was just the drinks, nothing more.”

“The hell it was!” he yelled.

Whoa.
“Shhh. Jesus, Ben. Yes. It was. You don’t get out a lot, I understand. But it was just a
one-nighter
, a fling. We socialized folks sometimes have them…” Even though, again, she rarely did. Well, again, except for the prior
two-night
string.
Ugh
. Cue hot acid reflux.

He glowered at her, his right eye a tad smaller than his left, while he began rubbing the top of his head. His expression, confused—a desperate question hovering in those golden spheres of his. “That is
not
what it was.”

She turned, realizing this would be an endless circle to nowhere. And her feet really did hurt. She needed to sit, eat, and relax for the half hour before checking in again.

But he took her hand gently and urged her around to face him.

Damn it.
More than hating that he was still in her face, she despised her body’s reaction to his touch. The hot spark in her core he’d ignited last night had simmered, but since he’d grabbed her wrist, it had spread like wildfire. Hell, his general fucking presence killed her slowly, forcing up those warm, rolling memories of
them
from only hours earlier—in heaven, before “Jamie.”

“If you didn’t feel the energy between us, then I need to see a psychiatrist—I must have been hallucinating. Clinically insane.”

She had felt the electricity. And was driven
crazy-insane
by it. But the bucket of
ice-cold
wake-up
had already been dumped over her head. Yeah, that
fine-burning
fire was out.

Put out
cold!

“No. It’s just relativity, Ben. You’re a dime a dozen and I guess I am, too…”

“How dare you take this so lightly!”

“Please lower…your voice.”

Back to a whisper. “I put everything out there last night, and you…you blow it off like it’s nothing?”

“It wasn’t me who blew it off.”

“I don’t know what the hell that means, but maybe it’s true what they say: flight attendants really do
fuck-flee
-repeat! Off to screw the next fool, right? Another brooding rock star? I’ll leave you to it.”

*

He couldn’t believe his words after they’d left his mouth.

Maybe they were from the years of
pent-up
…everything, but it shocked him, and from her facial expression, it shocked her far worse.

It took her several seconds to get her bearings. And then to speak. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I—”

“You…you can go
fuck
yourself!” she yelled, apparently uncaring anymore about decibel levels. Then she stormed off.

And he couldn’t utter a sound, a syllable to try to stop her. He knew better than to follow her—nothing would come of it. He screwed up royally, and damn it, had he even deserved a night or more with someone like her in the first place?

No was the answer. Definitely not.

He walked toward his connection, head down, hangover headache ramped up to full force, and another rush of guilt flooding his veins. God, that guilt—it might just drown him from the inside out.

CHAPTER 14

S
he’d find solace
in the airline lounge, a place to decompress. Her blinding rage already forced to a simmer, if only to keep up appearances around her coworkers.

Like Kelly and Jessica.

They were at the bar flirting with a pair of pilots. Before they caught sight of her, she ducked into a corner chair facing the window. She sighed then shook her head. At least hiding spots were coming her way.

She situated her bag, sunk into the plush red armchair, and then stared at the floor. Empty time went by while
all-encompassing
whooshes and zooms of arrivals and departures rattled her bones. And during that stretch of time, her fury at Ben, and at herself for letting it all happen, morphed into sheer apathy, a detachment she’d never known before.

And it felt good. Nice. Empty peace and ease.

But on the other hand, though she loathed admitting it, what she’d experienced last night, that level of liberation, that degree of true joy, couldn’t be had if she chose
apathy
.

But even that “true joy” wasn’t real, Preeya.

A reminder that ran rampant through her boiling veins. She squeezed her fists tight. Ben was just a romp, a fucking roll in a bed in a hotel in east bumble.

Low expectations, an objective outlook. That had to be the way now. The status quo. Hey, after taking a bit of time to
self-focus
—learn to be alone for five minutes without having a panic attack—maybe
Evan
was the way of her future? Maybe
that
was the best it could get?

“Preeya…hey, Preeya?” Kelly stood in front of her for who knew how long, wearing an expression of concern mixed with confusion. “You okay? Did you drop something on the floor?”

Preeya blinked out of her zone. “Hey. Oh, no. Just thinking…and tired. I guess the whole thing with the boy on yesterday’s flight…it was a lot. And I didn’t sleep well.”

“Right, that’s what kept you up…that whole episode with the boy…and the doctor and all.” She winked, holding out a beverage napkin for her to take. “He wanted me to give this to you. I’d almost forgotten…but then I saw you both together outside the lounge, and then you in here…”

Preeya took the napkin, glanced at it long enough to see ten digits, and decided not to rip it to shreds like she wanted to. She wouldn’t be gossip fuel for the Jetta Air girls. It was enough that she knew they’d caught Ben’s hand on her wrist, but hopefully none of the yelling. “Thanks. Probably more questions on the paperwork. It was a pile a mile high.”

“Sure, yeah, a mile high. Well, we’re off to Tampa in a while. Have a safe one to PV, and I guess, see ya when we see ya?”

“Thanks, Kelly. Yeah, safe flight.”

The tall blonde smiled then twirled toward the bar.

But the woman didn’t make it three steps before spinning back around on her heels, and
hip-shook
her way back to Preeya’s side. “Hey, when you talk to the doctor next and…you know, if he ever happens to ask about me, maybe just text me his number, or give him mine? I thought he was so yummy—
clean-cut
, tall, and a
doctor
. I would’ve called him myself, but I didn’t wanna freak him out, calling outright with no reason or excuse other than…you know, because…” She giggled. “Well, he didn’t strike me as the
pick-me
-up,
ready-to
-play type, which makes him that much yummier.” She licked her lips and waggled her brows.

Jesus.

“Well, as it turns out, Kelly,” Preeya died to say, “he is that type.”
And, God, would they go too well together, both married with children and pets and hidden rings.

You don’t know
that.

I’ve seen pictures of Kelly’s model
fam.

And
Ben?

I sense it with
Ben.

Maybe Gigi’s “powers” are starting to rub off on
you.

Shut up.
In her gut she sensed it. Though she hadn’t sensed anything but pure bliss when she’d felt his cock’s pulse and rippling release and length and girth and power in her last night.

Or when she’d been swimming in his arms.

She suppressed a growl and through gritted teeth pasted on her friendliest
FA-to
-FA smile. “Yeah, Kell, sure thing. I’ll try to put a word in for you.” And try not to cram the damn napkin with Ben’s blessed fucking number on it, down Kelly’s
ultra-deep
,
well-used
throat…to choke on!

Preeya!
Blow job, Ben, last night.
Judgy
bitch.

Fine, I’m a slight
hypocrite
. All fueled up about Ben again and taking it out on Kelly…
Though she is a
cheating—

Stop. Just
stop.

Preeya sighed, her internal back and forth ending in exhaustion.

As she watched Kelly shuffle back to her men in waiting, she let the remnant anger ripple through her, down her, and out her toes. No more thoughts about the dickhead who’d obviously fucked around enough to have some other woman’s name on his lips. Some
Jamie
. A fucking
Jamie
.

Had to call his
sister.

Exhale bad, inhale
good.

And no more thoughts about him tricking her into believing she was
all
he had on his mind. All that mattered in his damn world. For the night, at least.

She looked down at her purse, where the napkin with Ben’s number lay, which she’d inadvertently crunched up into a tight, sweaty ball when Kelly wiggled away from her corner of the lounge. She chuckled—wadding up men’s written messages of bullshit was getting to be a thing.

But her smirk fast became a frown. Severing ties, sitting there on her own, alone.
Alone time
was coming, and coming fast. Her lungs were already constricting, whispering their hatred of the idea of landing in Vallarta
solo
. For three whole days. She swallowed the
fast-developing
ball of angst with no success as she reached for her phone.

Call someone. For distraction. Gigi for sure wanted to know why and what ended their last call so abruptly.
Nuh-uh
.
She couldn’t rehash that right now. She’d splinter into tears. Instead she tapped out a quick
Call ya when land. All okay,
and then went back to brainstorming while her breathing became shallower still.

Amy? Not Amy. God, her college roommate was already married by this time, throwing a fucking bouquet or dancing drunk with cake on her nose and about to get on with her honeymoon cruise and the rest of her perfect marital life.

Her family was of course out, except for Prana—Prana always made her smile—but it was too late to call SafeHaven. God, she missed her sister. Always loyal, always lit up to see her. She should’ve rerouted herself to northern Cali for an extra visit this month. That’s what she should’ve done.

But it had already been too late. She was scheduled to work this leg. And two days off wouldn’t give her enough time to
possibly
catch a standby flight and drive to SafeHaven.

She powered up her phone screen to think. Some missed calls from her aunt and from her cousin, Asha. Oh God, don’t think about
that
wedding. She winced, went to shut down the phone…when a text rolled in.

From Evan?

Hope you’re good, just thinking about you.
No need to reply. Just wanted you to know. Ev.

She looked out the window. Still sweet as sugar. Even after she’d dashed his life plans.
Their
life plans.

She remembered her words to him that day, a month ago. She’d told him she needed to venture out. “To really get to know myself,” she’d said.

God, she talked a lot about getting to know herself, and did not a damn thing about it.

You are now, Pree.
This trip.

Yes, this trip. Here she was stressing over the next three days she’d be alone in paradise. By herself. No company, no distraction. And it terrified her.

Pathetic.

More pathetic were the words of truth that she could never formulate in her head, let alone say to her
almost-fiancé
: “I don’t love you, Evan. Never have. Just didn’t want to be alone…” God, it would have murdered his heart, and just because she hadn’t loved him enough to marry him, or even to stay with him another day, didn’t mean she wanted to hurt him like that. Evan was a good, sweet man. Eager to please her. Eager to love her.

While she, well, just wasn’t ever satisfied. With anything. So maybe there was truth to the breakup words she had spouted to him. She did need to venture out. And she definitely needed to find out who the hell she was. Because although she had no fucking clue what she was seeking—what she wanted—she knew in her heart what she didn’t want. And that, at least, was a start, right?

Her phone buzzed again, the same text, still marked as unanswered.

She hit Reply.
Hey, saw you on anchor desk. Congrats, Ev, you so deserve it! TYL.

She sighed, picturing him signing off the news desk every morning at 11:00 a.m. sharp. Every single morning. “Make it a great one, Seattle,” or whatever phrase or tag he’d snagged for himself. Yeah, she was really glad for him, proud of him, and impressed with him. He’d carried on without her, moved on for the better. And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She stood up, threw her phone in her purse, jerked her
carry-on
handle up, and strode to her gate. She’d kind of liked the adrenaline rush of being early on her last leg, getting the checklist done before the other girls arrived. And she liked surprising the hell out of Jessica and Kelly. She liked that a lot. Because,
screw
them
.

*

Ben sat in the extremely uncomfortable seats at the gate and closed his eyes—with only four hours of solid sleep because of the
vodka-induced
sex-fest
all-nighter
after the
adrenaline-rush
emergency after the hearing, and now the
crash-and
-burn with Preeya—it all finally hit him. He fell into a light doze. Deeper and deeper he drifted, despite the chair, the PA’s random announcements from some far off gate, and the obnoxious video game music from the teenager behind him. His exhaustion conquered it all. And when Preeya’s eyes floated through his mind, her expression sweet and sensual, the same look she’d given him at his hotel room door last night, he knew he was officially out and dreaming.

Until a child pulled on his pant leg, shocking him awake. The next second, the toddler’s mother issued a slew of apologies in Spanish. He rubbed his eyes to focus, then told her not to worry and gave the kid his famous—but just scary enough—
thumb-disappearing
trick, which sent the kid back to stay with his mother for good. He felt a little bad because there it was, his disconnect with kids. Ben sighed, then caught the child watching him from afar. To make it right, Ben held up his hands and wiggled all ten digits, proving everything was in working order. The child, in awe, giggled and ran behind his mother again. Ben laughed, winked at the toddler, then giving up on the nap— or maybe escaping Preeya’s inevitable
in-dream
gaze—he turned on his phone to call his sister, Stacy, to tell her he was due in at 9:30 p.m.

“Looks like the flight’s on time.”

“The kids are excited—they get my famous mac and cheese every time Uncle Ben comes home.”

“You turn me into a damn kid on Christmas morning when you bring up your mac and cheese!” He grinned hearing his sister laugh, fake modesty mingling in between her chuckles.

Then the
first-class
boarding announcement met his ears.

“That’s me, Stace—see you in a few hours.”

“Wait, how long are you staying, Ben?”

“For three days. Then I travel with the vaccination team through to Tula, an hour north of Mexico City.”

“God, I hate that you’re doing this. Puerto Vallarta is safe, a paradise, but a
Gringo Americano
crossing the damn country, I just—”

“I’m taking precautions, Stacy. Listen, I’ve really got to go. You can play mom when I see you in a few hours, okay?”

“Fine. Fine. Oh, customs takes forever. Have a protein bar with you!”

“Got it. No worries,” he said, fingering not a protein bar but his DWB badge—that magic ticket through the short line. “I love you. See you soon.”

He hung up smiling, glad now for her nurturing ways. It hadn’t always been that way. But age and time had made him appreciative of the only family he had. When Jamie died, Stacy had never been more vital to his
well-being
and to his sanity. She was solid, unconditional—always. Even while raising two kids on her own, she never let him down.

He handed his boarding pass and passport to the male flight attendant at the podium, got and gave the obligatory smiles, and headed down the ramp. He knew Preeya would be on board, but had decided not to bother her.

Though he really wanted to make things right, damn
it.

Just sleep
;
focus on seeing Stacy and the kids.
Then on to the Central Mexico mission. For more
soul-cleansing
work.

When he boarded the plane he spotted Preeya immediately, there in the first row of coach. She stood on her tiptoes, helping a passenger push, more like shove, a bag into the overhead compartment. Her long,
jet-black
ponytail highlighted the curve of her back, her hips, her bottom. He felt an uncontrollable shiver shoot up his spine.

But he sat quickly to shake it off. “It’s done, Ben. All done.”

He sighed, closed his lids gently over his eyes, and hoped that his pretend sleep would become real sleep as soon as humanly possible.