Flight to Paradise Ch. 09

Book #3: Flight to Paradise

Chapter 9

Kate's eyes open as she stretches with a deep groan of contentment, a yawn escaping her as she does. She listens for Mac, for any noise indicating his location, before the smell of breakfast cooking reaches her. She smiles and stretches again before tumbling out of the bed and looking for something to put on. Their clothes were no longer on the floor, so she digs for a moment in the clothes hamper. She'll shower and clean up later.

"Good morning," she yawns as she enters the kitchen, Mac standing at the stove preparing breakfast, two slices of thick bread browning in a pan.

"Good morning to you, sunshine," he says with a grin. She's wearing his shirt from last night like a sleep shirt. The shirt swallows her, but she still looks sexy as hell, in a rumbled sort way. "Sleep well?"

"Very well," she says, propping on the counter. He's clean, pressed, and ready for the day. She hadn't even noticed when he got up. "How long have you been up?"

He checks the time. "About two hours. I got up, got in my exercise, cleaned up, and then started breakfast. I was going to bring it to you in bed, but..." He trails off as he flips the French toast in the pan.

"But what?"

"But you're here now, so I guess breakfast in bed will have to wait for another time," he says abandoning the toast to brown so he can plant a quick kiss on her.

"Your problem is you get up too damned early," she protests. "No man in his right mind gets up at six-thirty on a Sunday morning. Well, actually, the getting up isn't so bad. It's the getting out of bed that's the problem." She smiles when she grins at her, obviously taking her meaning.

He slides the two slices of toast out of the pan onto a plate, adding a couple of sausage links before handing the plate to her. "Would you like maple syrup—I have some of the real stuff—confectioner sugar, or some of that strawberry jam on your toast?" he asks, returning to the task of preparing two more slices of toast by dunking them in a thick, yellow concoction.

"What's confectioner sugar?"

"The white powdered sugar, like you find on doughnuts and such."

"Oh! That. Uhh... I'll have some of the jam."

He points to the freezer with the spatula. "Help yourself."

She opens the freezer and after a bit of searching turns up the jam. "Don't you drink coffee?" she asks, realizing there isn't any being made.

"No, not normally. I have some zapper coffee though, if you want that. It's in there too, somewhere."

She rummages in the freezer for a moment longer before turning up the coffee. Setting the jam aside, she pops the coffee in the zapper and pushes start. The timer jumps to three minutes and begins to count down as the machine starts to hum. "I'm having coffee, but what are you drinking?"

"I'll have milk. Does the body good, you know," he says with a grin, sliding the two pieces of toast out onto a second plate. "Go sit down. I'll be out in a moment to join you."

She takes their plates to the table and sits down. Mac places the jam in front of her and a glass of milk beside his plate. Moments later he's back with two more glasses of juice, a small one for her and a larger one for himself. A third trip to the kitchen produces butter and a large cup of steaming coffee for Kate. He makes a final round trip to the kitchen for silverware and a small server of milk and sugar for her coffee.

"Why didn't you say something? I could have helped carry some of this," she protests. She still isn't used to having such a large spread for breakfast. If she keeps eating like this, she'll have to start joining him on the exercise equipment.

"It's fine," he says with a smile. "You don't know where everything is."

"I could have still helped."

"Eat," he says waving at her plate with a grin, "before the toast gets cold and gummy." She smiles then begins to spread the jam on her toast before offering it to Mac, who declines. As they eat, they talk about the day. "I have a surprise planned for you after breakfast," he says noncommittally, not looking at her.

"Oh?" she queries with a grin. "And what would that be?" she asks, though she has a pretty good idea of what his surprise is, and she's looking for to it.

"I thought we'd take the Beauty out and log a few miles before filling it with gas for tomorrow."

"Really?" she asks in excitement. She thought he was going to try to bed her, but this is even better!

"If you want to. If you don't, we can hop to the airport tomorrow before we leave for LA."

"No, I'd love to go. Are you sure you don't mind?" she asks trying to contain her enthusiasm.

He snorts a chuckle. "No, I don't mind. Any excuse to fly."

"That's the lever. Pull it down," Mac calls from the wing of the Beauty. He watches as Kate pulls the lever down, causing the hose in his hand to jerk and spasms as the pump fills the hose with fuel. The flight from LA to Paradise approaches the limit the Goose can fly without a refueling stop. A good stiff headwind the entire way and it becomes pucker inducing close. So, while the Beauty has plenty of fuel for the short hop to the Oroville airport, he wants to put a couple hundred pounds of fuel in so they'll have some time to sightsee along the way.

"If you have gas here, why don't you just fill the plane here?" she asks as she watches.

"Because I only have enough fuel on site for one fill-up, and the fuel is cheaper, faster, and easier at the airport. Normally I just fly into the airport when I fly home, gas and go, then top off when I get home if I need to," he explains as the plane fuels. "And the tank is half empty already, so I don't have enough to fill it anyway. They'll deliver the fuel on a Sunday, but trust me, you don't want to pay the delivery charge," he says with a grin, pinging the airport for a delivery of fuel for next week while he's thinking of it.

She grunts in understanding. Flying may be fun, but she's getting the notion that owning an airplane is a lot more complicated than owning a car.

"Okay. That's enough," he says after twenty minutes. She pushes the lever up. "This is why I fuel at the airport," he says climbing down. "I only put four-hundred pounds in. I could have put in the entire fifteen hundred pounds in the same amount of time at the airport." He flips a switch on the pump control panel, runs the pump for a moment, and then turns the pump off again before returning the switch to its original position. "Draining the hose," he says as he begins to roll the hose up.

She helps him ease the plane out of the hanger, driving the tug after he connects the tow bar first to the plane, then the blue and white tug. Once the plane is clear of the hanger doors, he waves for her to stop then disconnects the bar from the plane, freeing her to run the tug back into the hanger and park it.

As she walks out of the hanger, she sees him looking at her expectantly. "What?" she asks walking up.

"I'm waiting on you to help pre-flight the plane."

They walk around the plane, Mac showing Kate what to check, and how. He keeps the Beauty in pristine condition, so no problems are expected or found. He had quite enough risk taking while in the Army, so he's careful and meticulous in checking over the plane. Unlike a car, a minor problem in an airplane won't just leave you standing on the side of the road, especially in the surrounding mountains.

Pre-flight over, he turns to her, Kate looking every bit the part of a pilot in her new sunglasses. "You ready to fly?"

She tries to play it like the cool aviator chick she feels like, but she can't suppress the huge smile that split her face. "Yes, Captain, I am."

He chuckles at her enthusiasm. "Very well, First Officer. Please board the aircraft." He boosts her into the plane without bothering with the steps then gracefully hops aboard himself. By the time he has the hatch secured, and he makes his way to the front of the plane, she's already strapping in, her movements sure, obviously having retained what she learned on the flight out.

"What's this?" she asks as he hands her a laminated sheet of paper.

"Pre-flight checklist. You read it out, I check to make sure it's done."

"Don't you have this memorized by now?" she asks as she scans the twenty-two items on the list, and then flips it over to find a similar, post-flight list, on the back.

"Probably, but if I go down the list, I don't forget anything. So, number one?"

"Number one," she begins, "Battery power to on." Less than two minutes later they've completed all but the final item on the checklist. "Item twenty-two, engine start."

"Engine start," he repeats, pushing a button in the overhead console.

She can hear the whining wheeze of the right engine turning over and she looks out her side windows to watch the prop slowing turning until with a sputtering roar the engine erupts to live. He waits a moment then pushes another button while watching out of his window until she can hear the left—no, not left, port he calls it—engine roar into life. He flips the button covers closed and grins at her. "Ready to get wet?"

"I think I'm already wet," she replies with a grin causing him to laugh as he pushes the throttles forward, easing the aircraft toward the lake.

With the engines just above idle to allow them to warm, the Goose wades into the water. Mac waits until the Beauty is floating before asking Kate to raise the landing gear, pointing to the lever when she hesitates.

"Gear up and... locked," she says as Gear Up - Locked appears on the display.

"Watch for debris," he says as the plane bobs in the water. Keeping the revs low, he taxies the plane down the lake as they look for logs or other floating items that can damage the plane. She notices that the plane is bobbing more now than when they landed Friday and the windsock at Mac's house has considerably more life.

"Water is rougher today than Friday," she says. He seemed totally unperturbed by the waves, but she's still anxious.

"Yeah. It's going to be a little rough until we get up on plane," he says, looking at her and sensing her worry. "Don't worry. We can take a hell of a lot more than this." Reaching the end of his taxi he turns into the wind. "Hang on," he says pointing to the control wheel. "It's going to get a little rough."

She watches as he shoves both throttles forward, the twin engines roaring in fury, as the plane seems to wallow in the water, slowly picking up speed, much slower than when they took off from John Wayne Friday afternoon. As the plane accelerates, slowly at first, the waves on the lake hamming into the hull of the aircraft, makes the entire plane thrum and vibrate, but as the speed increases the hammering became less and less until with a leap, the plane flings itself into the air.

"Not too bad," he says as the Goose claws for altitude, Mac turning the plane in a long climbing arc, allowing her to look back at the lake as he slowly retracts the flaps.

As the plane settles into the cruise, he begins to throttle the engines back and trimming the plane. "How long until the airport?" she asks.

"If we were going straight there, about five minutes. But I thought you might like to see some of the countryside first," he responds banking the plane to follow the terrain.

They spend the next twenty-five minutes flying in and around the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Kate doing some of the flying. Because they're so low Mac's hands never leave the controls, but she can tell she's, mostly, controlling the plane. As they fly, enjoying one breathtaking vista after another, her excitement gives way to peace, a relaxing calmness that leaves her feeling warm and happy.

"Kate, turn right to one-four-zero," he commands. "We're at bingo fuel."

"Bingo fuel?" she asks as she slowly turns the plane, his hand's urging her to bank harder, as he adds a bit of power to hold their altitude in the turn.

"Bingo... we have enough fuel to get where we want to go, the airport, with a comfortable safety margin, but no more."

"Why can't you just say we need gas?" she asks, watching the instruments for her heading.

"Because that's not nearly as sexy, do you think?" he asks as she begins to unwind the bank.

Her giggle sounds in his ears over the intercom. "And sexy is important," she says.

"All part of the mystique of being a pilot," he acknowledges with a grin before keying the radio and talking to flight control at the Oroville airport. She's surprised that the Oroville flight control is much more relaxed and informal than the LAX flight corridor, Mac and flight control keeping it professional but not so stiff and formal as the controller consistently called their flight Goose Egg One.

"Someone you know?" she asks in one of the lulls in his conversation with the ground.

"Yeah. That's Ross, Ross Ellerton. He's a nut." He pauses for a moment as he looks at her.

"What?"

"Tell me, that thing that you do, where you drive all the men crazy without doing anything at all, can you do that over long distances?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," she says with a smile.

"The hell you don't. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

She giggles. "What do you mean over long distances?"

"I know Ross will have the glasses on us when we taxi up. When you get out of the plane, can you do that, whatever it is you do, and will it work on him up in the tower? And leave the glasses on."

She giggles again. "I don't know. Why would you want me to do that?"

"Because he's always giving me a ration of shit about something. I just want to hear what he has to say about you," he replies with a grin, relishing the thought of Ross's reaction.

"And how far away will he be," she asks, wondering if she can pull it off.

"A pretty good ways. Several hundred yards probably. But he'll have a good pair of binoculars, so you'll be clear enough."

She's quiet for a moment. "For you, I'll try. But there is one condition. You have to tell me what he says."

"I'll do you one better. I'll patch you in and you'll hear it yourself."

She smiles that mischievous smile of hers. "Sure. What the hell. I'll give it a try."

Mac turns the aircraft, so the hatch is facing the tower, and begins to shut the plane down while Kate unbuckles. They'd decided that she'll be the first one out when the plane stops. The moment her feet hit the ground Kate pours on the sex appeal, tossing her hair, taking a pose, overplaying it a bit to account for the distance, before waving the waiting fuel truck in. By the time the fuel truck is braking to a halt, he's out of the plane standing beside her, waiting to sign the fuel bill. He has an account with the airport so as soon as he signs the authorization to fuel, they'll be on their way.

He digitally signs the fuel authorization then pings Ross. "Ross," he says, duplicating the link to Kate so she can listen in. It's a little dangerous to have her listening because you never know what Ross is going to say, but a deal is a deal.

"Mac. How you been? Haven't seen you around. Who's that with you?" the voice from the radio comes over the link.

"That's Kate. My right seat."

"Your... right seat? You're shitting me."

"Nope. She was doing the flying today," he says, watching her blush. That's stretching the truth a little, but she did do some of the flying, in a manner of speaking.

"You let her fly the Goose?" Ross asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

"Yep. She flew us up from LA Friday. She's spending the weekend at my place. We leave tomorrow to fly back. Why?" Mac asks, rubbing it in good.

Ross is quiet for quite some time. "I didn't think anyone but you flew the Goose."

"Well, she's the exception," Mac says, noticing her looking at him strangely.

Once again there is a pause before Ross asks, "She any good?"

"She's excellent," Mac says, leaving Ross to take that as he will. She really is a natural at handling the plane, her movements smooth and precise. With a little training she'll make an excellent pilot.

"Yes," Ross says. "I bet she is."

"Listen, Ross, Kate and I are going to go grab a quick lunch. You want to join us?" Mac asks. It's only polite to invite him since they'll be going in his car.

"I'd love to. You don't know how much I'd love to, but I have to cover while my guy is out. I suppose you want to borrow the car?"

Mac laughs. "Am I so transparent?"

"Yes." Ross says, his smile evident in his voice. "You're still coded for the car. Let Kate drive so I know it won't come back beat all to shit."

Mac laughs while taking Kate gently by the arm and steering her away from the plane. "Will do, and thanks. When are you and Trent coming out to the house again? You haven't been out since last summer."

"I don't know man. With Trent getting ready to leave for college there isn't much time for anything anymore, you know?"

"I can imagine. You must be proud. It seems like only yesterday you were teaching him to swim off my deck."

"Yeah, time flies alright," Ross says quietly. "Hey, I have an inbound, so I have to go. We'll get together soon," and with that he's gone.

"Ross sounds like a nice guy," she says as they stop by a slightly beat up but clean blue Chevrolet.

"He's a good guy. Works his ass off. His wife left him about ten years ago and he's been raising Trent as a single father ever since. He does carpentry on the side. He built all those steps and the deck down by the lake."

She heads to the passenger side, but he opens the door and gets in. She looks at him, then shrugs, walking around the car and sliding behind the wheel. Following his directions, she drives them to a sandwich shop where she orders a ham and cheese and he returns to his standby, the club.

Over lunch they compare notes of the upcoming weeks. It quickly becomes apparent that when Kate is free, Mac isn't, and vice versa. "Well, shit, Mac," she mutters. "It looks like the end of August before we can get together again. That sucks."

"Yes, it does," he says, pushing his now empty tray away.

"Maybe that's for the best," she says softly.

"Why do you say that?" he asks, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"I don't know. The past week has kind of been a whirlwind, you know? I've enjoyed it. I've enjoyed it a lot, more than I can remember in a long time, but things have moved so fast..."

"Do I hear a 'but' in there somewhere?" he asks, even though he understands exactly what she's talking about. The last week has been a whirlwind. And after the slow, easy lovemaking of last night, something has subtly changed. He can't put his finger on what, but he doesn't think of her in quite the same way anymore.

"No, not really," she says with a smile. "I guess I'm just saying that I like you. I think you're a very dear man. You've been very patient with me and my big mouth this weekend. This break will, maybe, let me figure out if I like you for you, or for what you do to me."

"Does it matter?"

"No. Not at this point. But it might matter later. How's that for some cold, hard, reality?" she says quietly.

He leans across the table. "So, no sex tonight?" he asks with a grin.

She leans in closer. "Fuck no. If I'm going to go three weeks without fucking, I need to get it while I can." She leans in closer still. "Remember your hotel room? Feel like a rematch?"

His cock instantly begins to harden from the memory of the most intense sexual encounter he's ever had. Ever. "I don't have a Jacuzzi," he says with a sardonic grin.

"Then we'll have to make do with your bed, the floor, the shower, and anywhere else we may end up," she says, her eyes saying more than her words ever could.