Just For A Moment by Kate Carley

Chapter 4

For the past twenty-four hours,every waking moment—the sleeping ones, too—had been inundated with visions of Grace Holland. Aaron imagined laughing with her, holding her in his arms, plunging into her sweetness with the uncontained lust of a madman.

Aaron shook his head, hoping to knock that thought and every other stupid one away. Rather than dislodging the thought, he cracked the back of his head on the engine door of the aircraft he was tinkering on.

“Goddamn it!” With a cautious touch, he checked for blood, but when he pulled his hand away, there wasn’t any. “That’s what you get for not focusing.”

He needed to stop thinking about Gracie Jane and her silky, soft hair that brushed her shoulder blades in caramel blonde waves. He should be focusing on his job, not the long, slender fingers that had cooled his hand as they’d touched. Correction—as they’d shaken hands.

God, what was wrong with him? “Keep your shit together, jackass.”

He turned his attention back to the Cessna Denali that Steve McKinney had brought in for an oil change earlier this morning with the hopes that it would be ready by end of business today for his weekly flight back to his office in Milwaukee in the morning. These days, Steve wasn’t alone in his weekly hop across Lake Michigan—bypassing the Lake Express Ferry—or a weekly flyover of the entire state down to Detroit or Toledo. People loved their small-town living while still working in the big city.

The recent work-at-home movement had definitely impacted Aaron’s bottom line—he’d seen an uptick in customers requiring an oil change and tune up every month—so he wasn’t going to complain. If a person had the ability to cut time from a trip, why not?

Aaron would’ve flown every day of the week if he could have. If he had his own plane. But he didn’t.

Did Grace like to fly? Maybe he could take her up in one of— “No!” he shouted.

But then, he couldn’t help laughing at himself. If someone walked in right then and heard him shouting at himself and then laughing like a fool, there’d have been plenty of talk in town about him losing his marbles.

Although, last night, Piper hadn’t helped a bit. Over supper she’d politely asked him about his day, quickly followed by a question regarding his new friend. She’d obviously been listening to Dolores question him about Grace and her return to town.

“What’s your new friend’s name?” Piper had asked.

“Grace. And she’s not exactly my friend.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Piper had blinked at him, waiting for a polite reply.

Now, Aaron couldn’t fault her. He’d insisted as soon as she’d been old enough to string a sentence together that dinnertime was a time for polite conversation, discussing the day and planning for the one to follow. He’d made a habit of leading by example and prompting her to ask questions of him. So, Piper’s questions were completely in line with his expectations.

When Aaron had made no comment but instead shoveled some casserole into his mouth, his daughter had pressed. “Grace is a pretty name, right, Dad?”

“Yes, but not as pretty as Piper.”

Piper had grinned at him and tossed her head, the mass of curls bouncing, but that hadn’t stopped the line of questioning. “My best friend is Charlotte, and her hair is red. What color is Grace’s hair?”

“Blonde with streaks of darker colors.”

“That’s pretty. What color are her eyes?”

Aaron had responded to questions about Grace Holland all night long. Between bites of food at dinner and jumping on her bed as she’d prepared for story time, Piper had kept up a steady stream of Grace-related questions.

When Piper had finally drifted off to sleep, Aaron had been left to his own thoughts, and God, that was a dangerous place to be. A sensuous Grace had followed him into his dreams.

But none of that mattered.

Piper’s questions. Aaron’s wildly inappropriate thoughts. His dreamworld designed by his subconscious that had left his dick hard enough to pound nails.

This was reality, and it was all that mattered.

The facts about Grace Jane Holland were unimpressive. She hadn’t come out to visit her grandfather. Aaron knew all about the family reasons, and he understood. But still. They seemed rather flimsy, in his opinion.

What bothered him most was her behavior yesterday. If she hadn’t wanted a chance to see Win’s planes, why come to the airport? It certainly wasn’t appropriate to be rude.

Yes, she was beautiful. Pretty as Piper had continued to guess.

But the reality was, Grace wasn’t going to stick around Oak Bend. Her family had reasons for leaving all those years ago—the same flimsy reasons they’d avoided coming back. Grace would clear out Win’s house in a blink, cashing out on anything of value, and then sell off the house.

There was no sense to get involved with someone who’d be gone within the year. Maybe even a month or two.

Aaron ducked his head back under the hatch of the engine and clipped the safety wire to hold the filter in place. Just as he was reaching for a large wrench, the chime rang over the door.

“Hey!” he shouted, this time taking extra caution to back out from under the heavy metal hatch door.

“Hi, Beck.”

Even though his back was to her, he recognized that voice. That sweet sound caressed his soul, and his entire body responded. Call him a fool, but he wanted to drag her against him and kiss that sassy mouth. He wanted to let her feel just how much she affected him, even as he wanted to push her away before she could hurt him.

Just like Mel had hurt him.

Confused by his thoughts, he gave her a courteous smile. “Hi, Gracie Jane.”

Shaking her head slightly, she laughed. “I’m back.”

She walked across the hangar floor toward him, and just like in his dreams, her hair flowed airily down her back. Something about her seemed lighter today, as if she’d shrugged the weight of the world from her shoulders.

“I’m here for that tour you suggested yesterday.”

Aaron raked his fingers through his hair, connecting with a tender spot. Probably from hitting his head moments before. “Can you give me five?”

When she nodded, he turned back to the aircraft. He needed to clear his mind and get his body under control. The Cessna was just a ruse. But all that remained to the oil change on this beauty was to replenish the oil and do his final check.

“Whatcha doing with the Cessna?” Grace dipped her head under the hatch and examined the engine like she was a trained mechanic.

But her nearness unnerved him. Inches separated her head from his. With little effort, he could kiss her. Would she taste like she had in his dream last night? He’d find out if she’d just look up. She, however, was intently staring at the wrench he’d been about to use to double check the bolt holding the air filter.

“Just an oil change,” he said.

“Is she yours?”

“No. This belongs to Steve McKinney.”

Aaron added the necessary oil and then went through the safety check, doing his best to ignore the woman beside him who had taken over his brain since he’d first met her. Finally, when he finished his task, he backed away.

“Okay. Take a step back,” he said, indicating that Grace should move, and she did. He closed the engine hatch. “Let me go grab the keys for Win’s hangar.”

Grace followed him to the service desk at the front of the shop, where he typed up a quick email to Steve, letting him know the Cessna was done.

“I didn’t know.” She leaned her elbows on the high top of the desk, standing as if she were a customer dropping off her plane for a tune-up. Aaron lifted his head and gazed at her face. There must have been a question in his eyes, because she added, “I didn’t know that Win had a hangar here.”

He pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t say the words that were begging to come out of his mouth—that if she’d cared an ounce, she would’ve known—and glanced at his monitor before hitting the send button.

With the keys in his hand, Aaron directed Grace out the side door of the hangar, and together they walked down the alleyway of metal buildings. Rutted dirt and grass, the narrow path—used for driving cars and trucks, not for taxiing to the runway—led to the back doors of each hangar. He glanced down and noted the practical hiking boots on Grace’s feet.

“So, you didn’t know?” he asked the redundant question, because he had to hear it from her again. He wanted to fully understand Win’s granddaughter.

“I had no idea. He talked about a project that he wasn’t done with yet. He kept promising me that when he was done, he’d tell me all about it. But he kept me in the dark.”

“Sounds like Win,” Aaron admitted as he stopped at the red and white striped hangar and keyed the door, opening it and letting Grace enter first. She barely cleared the threshold before coming to a dead stop, leaving only enough space for Aaron to squeeze through the door behind her.

“Which one is his?” She gestured to the three aircraft that took up space in Win’s oversized hangar.

“All three.” Aaron moved around her, so he could read her expression. Shock. Her jaw dropped, and her mouth gaped open. Then, she snapped her lips together and slowly shook her head.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked the question but didn’t necessarily sound as if she expected a response, so Aaron remained quiet. “You think I’m a horrible person, don’t you?” Grace gazed at him, waiting for an answer.

He focused on her face and met her eyes. “Doesn’t matter what I think.” His voice was gruff, even to his own ears, so he looked away.

“So, you do. You think we should’ve been here. That Mom and I should’ve come home to Oak Bend to help him.” Grace wandered over to a metal folding chair along the wall. Defeated, she sank to the seat and regarded the three aircraft she hadn’t known about.

Aaron joined her. Squatting, he took a seat, leaning his back against the wall and stretching out his legs in front of him.

“Grace, I know about your sister. I know how Caroline and those two other girls died driving across the railroad tracks. Win talked about you and Caroline often.”

Grace lifted herself from the chair long enough to scoot it into a better position. She obviously wanted to see his face while they talked. “Did he tell you she had the voice of an angel?”

Aaron nodded and offered a small smile. “He did.”

She too let her lips tip upward into a sad grin and then bowed her head. “Caroline was the best big sister in the world. The night she died, our family died. It flatlined. And it never restarted. I think my mom and dad both tried. But when it was obvious that it wasn’t going to work, we moved away.” Grace picked at an invisible spot on her jeans and finally lifted her face to look at him. “They didn’t even pretend. Mom and I moved to Grand Rapids, and Dad went to Detroit. They signed divorce papers less than six months later.”

“Do you see your dad?”

“It’s been a couple years. We’re not close, and it’s too much effort to pretend.” She nibbled her lower lip for a moment. “Dad made it clear that he felt the wrong daughter had died.”

Aaron couldn’t control his expression. “Whoa! I’m sure that’s not what he really felt.” While he only had one child and he loved Piper to pieces, he couldn’t imagine loving one child more than another or voicing it in some manner out loud.

“It was.” She laughed and stopped short. “Why am I telling you this?”

“You and I, we’re clearing the air since we’ll be seeing each other while you’re in town.”

“I’m staying here.”

“You’re staying? Permanently.”

“Yes. That’s my intention.” With her gaze set on the far wall, she pinched her lips together as if she were debating her next words. Finally, she said, “I know it’s weird to come back here now. After he’s gone. All because he left me his house. I just decided I was done listening to my parents and their reasons for not living here, for not visiting here. Life is too short, and I just want to see if I can make it work.”

“Come on. Let me show you Win’s three ladies.” Aaron climbed to his feet and extended his hand to Grace. She seemed to hesitate for a split second about touching his hand, and he prayed she would grab hold and never let go.

God, he was a sap. One simple, ‘I didn’t know,’ and he was a goner.

Maybe she was kinder than she’d appeared yesterday, but he still didn’t believe she’d be sticking around town for long, no matter what she said. He should hold that thought front and center rather than letting his dick rule the show.

Then, she reached for his hand, and he swore he felt fire licking at his skin, racing through his blood and igniting his entire body.

“Show me,” Grace whispered.

Intimate. That’s how it felt in the moment. So rather than just help her to her feet and allow her a second to get her bearings, he held fast to her hand and encouraged her toward the first aircraft.

“This is Darling Belle,” he said. Unfortunately, he had to let go of her hand in order to open the engine hatch.

“It’s like the Red Barron’s plane,” Grace said, admiring the outside of the plane and the name painted on the side nose panel.

“You’re right. It’s a Boeing Stearman, a biplane used as a military trainer aircraft. More than ten thousand of these were built during the 1930s and 1940s. After World War II, thousands were sold to civilians as sports planes and for air shows. They also became immensely popular as crop dusters.”

“Really? What was this one used for? Let me guess. Was this used for wing walking?”

He laughed at her suggestion and shook his head. “No. Nothing as exciting as that. This one was modified for crop dusting, including additions of a hopper for whatever dry chemical was being used.” He pointed to the open front cockpit. “And then equipment meant to handle liquid applications like pumps, spray bars, and nozzles were mounted below the lower wings.” He walked to one of the wings and indicated a tiny mark that was hardly noticeable.

Stepping closer and peering up at the spot where he pointed, Grace squinted. “I would’ve never noticed that.”

Aaron chuckled. “Yeah, that’s because I’m good.”

He didn’t miss the gulp of air and the instant blush on her checks. But she, too, was good, and she masked her expression in a blink before turning to catch the teasing grin on his face. Rather than comment, she asked, “Did you do all the restoration on this?”

“I did. Win was learning. It was such fun to work together with him. I always found it interesting that the family business was in milled aircraft parts, and yet, he’d never learned to fly. And he didn’t try rebuilding a plane until later in life.” Aaron hoped his statement wasn’t out of line.

“The family business was his father’s passion. That drive for something doesn’t necessarily get passed down the generations.” Grace laughed. “Granddad was more of a businessman. He saw the potential and reinvested into the business. That’s what floated his boat. And the money afforded him the luxury to follow his own passions—collecting memorabilia.”

“He was quite the collector. Clearing out the house is going to be a challenge.”

“I’m not in too big of a hurry.” Grace shrugged.

“No?”

“My apartment lease is up in a few months. I need space to move all my things into the house. That’s all.”

“So, you’re really planning to stay?”

“Of course. I love that old house.” Grace pointed back at the plane. “What was the hardest part?”

“On this one?” Aaron glanced at her and then back at the aircraft. “A popular modification on Stearmans used for crop dusting was to fit it with a new, larger engine and a constant-speed propeller in order to increase performance. The hardest part was finding the old pieces to restore this back to its original beauty. That was your grandfather’s passion. Seeking out original pieces.”

Again, Aaron extended his hand to her, indicating she should put her foot on the black strip on the wing, right beside the fuselage. “Step up and take a look inside.”

Grace did as he told her. “I can’t even imagine flying out in the open like this. Nope. I’d never be able to come up with three good reasons to take my life in my own hands like that.” He helped her as she stepped back down. “Actually, that is reason number one in the con column.”

“Tell me about these three good reasons.”

“Whenever I’m not sure what to do, I like to ensure I have three good reasons. Or in the case of this Red Barron special,” she hiked her thumb over her shoulder, “three reasons not to do something.”

“Darling Belle is exhilarating.” He met her eyes. Large. Brown. Framed with insanely long eyelashes. But they didn’t look all clumpy with makeup. As a matter of fact, he’d swear she wasn’t even wearing any.

“Flying? In that?” Her big brown eyes grew even wider.

“Yeah. It’s insane and breath-taking and thrilling.” He narrowed his gaze at her and grinned. “I’ll take ya up.” He was playing with her, hoping she’d play back.

“Ummm. I’m not sure I could do that,” she said with a laugh.

“You work on that list and let me know as soon as you have three reasons.”

“Did my granddad fly in it?”

“Absolutely. That was Win’s goal. He wanted to take a ride in all three of these.” Beck moved around the center aircraft and gently touched the wing. “This is the Grumman F7F Tigercat. Back in the day, it was considered a heavy Naval fighter aircraft.”

“Navy?”

“When this was designed, the goal was to produce a fighter that outperformed and outgunned all existing Naval fighter aircraft, but design flaws caused precarious results for landings on aircraft carriers.”

“Interesting. And they named it the Tigercat?”

Aaron offered her a playful grin. “It was originally dubbed the Tomcat, but the military felt that was too overtly sexual, so they toned it down with the name Tigercat.”

Grace pinched her lips together, attempting to stifle a laugh, but eventually the sweetest giggle escaped. “Interesting fact.”

“I got that one from Win.”

“I figured as much.” Grace reached up and caressed the midnight blue fuselage. “Is this done? Can it fly?”

Aaron knew the way his shoulders sank in disappointment gave the answer before he could speak it. “This was a huge undertaking.”

He moved the rolling staircase over to the nose of the Tigercat and locked the wheels into place. With a gesture, he asked Grace to mount the steps, and then he followed behind her. Once he opened the hatch of the engine, he showed her the vast wiring and mechanics found beneath. “We were lucky some of this had already been done. As well as a good deal of the bodywork, although there was some still required on the fuselage.”

“How much do you have left?”

“Let’s discuss that later.” Without waiting for a reply, he moved down the steps again, and Grace followed. “I want to show you the last one. It’s a Cessna 172 Skyhawk, one of the first four-seaters built.”

“It’s not a military plane.”

“True. But Win wanted one that he could use.”

“So, it flies?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded, pulling his phone from his back pocket and glancing at the time. “I’ve got to get back to work. But someday, we’ll go for a ride.” He pointed at the Cessna to indicate he didn’t really expect to take her up in the Darling Belle. It took a special person to feel comfortable flying without the false sense of security a roof provided.

“Really?” Grace grinned. “I want to enjoy everything that my granddad loved. I’d really like that, Beck.”

He led them out of the hangar and back toward Aaron’s Aeronautics. “Tomorrow is Wednesday. Win and I had a standing appointment at two to work on the Tigercat. I’ve got the time blocked off on my calendar. Do you want to stop by? I can show you what we’ve been doing and what’s left to do.”

“Yes, tomorrow at two is perfect.” Grace reached out and touched his shoulder when she paused by the side of her car. “Thank you, Beck. I enjoyed the tour.”