Matchmaker 09: September

I smiled as I pocketed the latest card. Saturday, after I'd found out he was working this week, if one of these handsome men had slipped me their card and asked me to dinner, I'd have gone, leaving Roger to do what he wanted. If he didn't want to spend time with me, I'd find someone who did. Sunday and Monday I'd have considered their offer, but today I was seeing Roger in a new light.

Saturday, even if he'd tried to kiss me good night, I'd have turned my face away. Perhaps he'd sensed my anger because he hadn't even tried. Nor Sunday night. I probably wouldn't have let him kiss me, and I certainly wouldn't have kissed him back. But if I were honest with myself, I was a little disappointed and annoyed he didn't even try. I considered it more proof I was simply arm candy, despite his words to the contrary.

Yesterday, however, I'd thawed a little, getting caught up in the excitement of his announcement. It didn't hurt that I saw him without his pants and shirt on for the first time as I first dressed and then redressed him. I'd selected the blue and tan the first time, and after seeing the clothes on him, I knew that was the outfit, but I'd enjoyed him undressing in front of me so much that I'd selected two more pant and shirt combinations for him to try on, just so he had to undress again.

Under his pants he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs. His underwear was no more revealing than a normal swimsuit, but they hugged his muscular thighs and tight ass perfectly. Combined with his rippled stomach, broad muscular chest, and his powerful looking arms, he was the stuff women dreamed of in their beds at night. I also noticed the package filling the front of his underwear. If he'd tried to kiss me then I wouldn't have objected, and there might have been more in store for him, but he hadn't, even after I dropped a few silent hints I was receptive.

That had chilled me again. He was more worried about his damned airplane than being with me, and it frosted me. I agreed to this trip thinking I was going to meet someone that wanted to meet me. I'd once dated a guy that cared more about his car than me. We hadn't lasted long, and just because Roger had flown me to Colorado, I wasn't going to tolerate it from him either. After we'd worked in the hangar for a couple of hours, he'd taken me to dinner and we'd returned to the cabin. He'd brought me a glass of wine, but other than that, he'd ignored me.

I frowned to myself as people milled around and minutely inspected the plane. That wasn't true. He hadn't ignored me, but he was so damned reserved. I couldn't tell if he was quiet, lost in thought, or just didn't give a shit about me. When I announced I was turning in for the night, he'd escorted me to my room.

"Azumi," he said, his voice soft. I paused and turned to face him, standing in the doorway. "Thank you for everything you've done, and your help tomorrow."

I nodded and began to turn away. I was rapidly losing interest in Mr. Roger fucking Bentley. As I entered my room, he'd taken my arm, and with the lightest of tugs, pulled me to him. His kiss was gentle, his lips taking mine with feather lightness. I was so surprised, I didn't have time to react before he pulled back, a small smile on his lips.

"Goodnight," he'd whispered as he took a step back and watched me.

For the briefest of moments, I considered inviting him to my bed, recalling his body as he changed in front of me and the surge of desire I'd felt, but I hadn't.

I nodded. "Goodnight."

I'd already made up my mind that despite his good looks and his obvious intelligence, he was a loser, at least when it came to women. I didn't know how it could be possible with a body like his, but I wondered if he was a virgin, or maybe he preferred men. It was just my luck. I get paired with some hot, smart guy, and he turns out to be either gay or the fucking thirty-year-old virgin.

Sunday I'd decided that Roger was a nice guy, if not exactly what I was hoping for, and that I'd spend the month in Denver and make a vacation out of it on his dime. But any hopes of romance, much less finding my dream guy, were fading, and fading fast.

That's why the kiss had been so surprising. I didn't know what to make of it because if he was gay, I couldn't see him kissing me like that, and if he were a virgin... he was damn sure a different type of virgin than when I'd lost my virginity. When I lost my virginity to Lanakila, I was his first girl, and he'd been a fumbling, hesitant mess. I wasn't much better. But there'd been no hesitation in Roger's kiss. What was strange was that he hadn't tried to follow up the kiss, hadn't invited me to his room, or tried to enter mine. He hadn't tried to kiss me again, slip me his tongue, or grab my ass. He'd done none of the things I'd have normally expected him to do, but I had no feeling he'd backed off for any reason other than he'd done what he wanted and was satisfied with that.

I'd thought about it a lot Monday night. He was a mass of conflicting signals. He was sexy as shit, and not shy about me seeing his body, but at the same time, it was almost like he didn't notice the admiring glances from women wherever we went. He'd kissed me, a soft, sweet, almost first date kiss, but he seemed satisfied with that simple kiss and wanted nothing more. He was open, friendly, and funny, but he was so reserved I couldn't figure him out. Until I fell asleep, I alternated between wanting to grab him by the shoulders and shake the shit out of him and grabbing him by the cock and fucking the shit out of him.

Today, however, he was a completely different person. He was just as open and friendly, and certainly sexy as hell standing beside the Peregrine, but today there was something more. He was more animated, alive, and passionate than I'd seen him before.

A couple of the women had certainly noticed him, and I could see the hunger in their eyes. I knew exactly how they felt. It was the same feeling I'd had Saturday, before I discovered how passive he was. I smiled to myself. Or how passive I thought he was. That little kiss last night had changed everything, and now seeing how full of life he could be, and how he'd taken charge of the room, my perception of him had changed even more. There was far, far, more to Mr. Roger Bentley than I'd first realized. He held so much inside, but I was starting to get peeks past that cool shell he surrounded himself with.

After another hour, the last of the crowd left, leaving us alone in the hangar. I found it humorous that the last two people to leave were the two women that I'd noticed before. He was polite, but as I watched, that wall came back up. They didn't throw themselves at him, but their interest was clear, and I suspected if he'd ever wanted to engage in a threesome with two women, that was his chance. I smiled to myself, pleased that I'd had one more date offer than he did.

"Shit," he sighed as he flopped in chair. "I'm glad that's over."

"I think it went great! There were a lot more people here than you expected."

"Yeah, but will any of it turn into anything?"

I shrugged. "Don't know, but those two reporters were almost drooling on themselves."

He snickered. "Yeah, I noticed that too."

"Did you see them taking pictures of the wing with their phones? I bet they're sorry they didn't have a camera."

"No, I didn't notice. I was busy."

I sat down beside him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just asking. You seemed so excited and full of energy during the presentation, but now..."

"Now what?"

"Now you don't. You're back to how you normally are."

He nodded. "Boring, you mean?"

"I did not say that. I don't think you're boring at all."

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Oh really?"

"Really."

"So you've decided to stay?"

I felt a chill. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said with a smile. "Are you going to tell me you weren't thinking about leaving?"

I stared at him. He was surprisingly perceptive. I'd thought he was mostly ignoring me, lost in his own little world. "I was," I finally admitted.

"But not now?"

"No, not now," I replied softly as I shook my head. "How did you know?"

He sniffed out a laugh. "How could I miss it? Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, you were giving off the 'don't talk to me, I'm pissed' vibe so loud they could have picked it up in Honolulu."

I snickered. "I was not!"

He nodded. "Yes you were. Frankly, I was surprised you didn't call Brooklyn Saturday night and execute your escape plan. Sunday evening, after I showed you the plane, you were a little better, but then I made you mad again Monday."

"When?" I asked, another chill passing over me.

"When you were picking out my clothes. When I didn't..."

"Didn't what?"

He studied his fingers a moment before his gaze returned to mine. "When I didn't respond to your hints."

I stared at him. "I thought you were being dense or were ignoring me. Why didn't you do something?"

"Because..." he shrugged. "I don't really know."

He sounded slightly sad again. "You don't know or you won't say?"

His gaze met mine. "I... I'd rather not say."

"Why? Is it me?"

"No! Absolutely not!" he exclaimed quickly. "It's me." He paused as he watched my eyes. "I thought this was what I wanted, but now... now I'm not so sure."

I sighed. "So it is me."

"It's not you," he said, his voice firm.

"Then what is it?"

He heaved out a long sigh. "How about I take you flying?"

"How about you talk to me?"

He smiled, but there was a sadness there. "How about we go flying, and maybe we'll talk then."

"Deal, but you're not getting off the hook by trying to distract me with your airplane."

A faint smile, a real smile tickled his lips. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

I didn't want to talk to Azumi about what was bothering me. Even playing the conversation in my head I sounded pathetic. Once I got her up in the Peregrine, I hoped she'd be so distracted she'd forget she wanted to talk to me.

I raised the giant hangar door, and with Azumi's help, we wheeled the glider out into the sunshine. It was almost three, the sun was bright, and there was a slight wind, perfect conditions for soaring with the sun kissed ground creating updrafts to compliment the breeze flowing over the mountains. The Boulder area had some of the best soaring conditions in the world.

"I'm surprised at how light this thing is," she said as we wheeled the aircraft to my reserved parking space, each of us holding a wing, balancing the plane to prevent a wingtip from dragging as we pushed it along. I could do it myself, but having another person on the other wing made the plane easier to push straight.

"All carbon fiber and lightweight semi-rigid polymers sandwiched between bi-metallic strips."

"And you invented all that stuff?"

"No. Everything in this plane is off the shelf except for the design of the wing."

"But it looks like the wings on all the other planes except where its attached to the, whatever that thing is called you sit in. The cockpit."

"Fuselage," I corrected. "We'll be sitting in the cockpit and the cockpit is in the fuselage."

"Whatever," she said with a careless wave of her hand. "You know what I mean."

Once we had the plane parked in our assigned spot, I made arrangements to get in the cue for takeoff with the apron advisor, also known as The Boss. Curt, the apron advisor, coordinated all the apron traffic and made sure the planes were in position at the end of the runway when they were supposed to be there. Since I didn't need a tow, I could take off during the first open window, but because there were a lot of people flying today, the first open slot was a twenty-minute wait.

I returned to Azumi with my number. Someone would be around shortly to get us in the takeoff cue.

"It's going to be a few minutes," I said as I approached.

"How long?"

"About twenty minutes."

"So we're just going to..."

Her voice trailed off as she looked past me. A man was trotting in our direction. "You Bentley?" the man panted as he slowed to a stop.

"Yeah."

"Can you go now?"

"Yeah, but I—"

"Everyone wants to see this bird take off, so the guy up next offered to trade launch spots with you, but we have to hustle."

"Grab a wing," I said, trotting around to the other side of the plane.

We pushed the Peregrine along in a slow trot, Azumi jogging along beside me as we passed planes already in the cue. I was a little self-conscious moving to the front of the line, but I wasn't really holding anyone up. As we approached the runway the gliders were being launched from, three men were pushing another plane out of the way.

"Thanks," I panted as we carefully maneuvered the Peregrine into position.

"I thought your demonstration flight was tomorrow," a man said as he approached. He was probably the pilot who had relinquished his spot.

"It is, but I promised her a ride," I said with a nod at Azumi.

The man looked Azumi over, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He wouldn't mind giving her a ride, and not in his plane. He returned his attention to me.

"Well, I want to see this thing launch, and you're up next, so I'll let you get to it."

I extended my hand. "Thanks again..."

"Hank. Hank Gerard," he said, taking my hand into a firm shake.

"Roger Bentley."

"I know. I was at your dog and pony show this morning."

"If you're going to go, you need to get on it, or I'm going to pull you out of the line," Curt said.

"Got it. Azumi, hop in the back seat and strap in!"

I helped her get buckled and handed her the headphones before crawling into the front seat. I was pulling the canopy down as the plane in front of me was pulled away by the tow plane. I wouldn't rush my preflight checklist, but I didn't waste any time with idle chatter either.

As two of the ground crew lifted the wings, I started the engine, the small jet rising from the fuselage and locking into place automatically as the starter began spinning it over with a low moan. Once it was locked into place, and the turbine was up to speed, fuel was fed into the engine. It coughed into life, the moan replaced by a wail, then a shriek.

I applied thrust while talking to the tower. The men were walking with us, holding the wings so they wouldn't drag, but the Peregrine was moving under her own power. We were just rolling into position as I received clearance to take off. Since I had an audience, I shoved the throttle all the way forward, the shriek becoming a high-pitched scream and then a throaty roar.

The men ran with us a couple of steps before we outpaced them and the Peregrine became stable on her own. We accelerated for fifty or sixty feet until I could tell the plane wanted to fly. I hauled back on the control stick and the aircraft flung itself into the air. Because of the power of the jet engine, we had a much higher climb rate than most gliders. That power, coupled with my wing, meant I could climb like no other glider in the world, so I stood the Peregrine on her tail and let her claw for altitude.

"Shit," Azumi breathed from behind me, her voice loud in my headphones.

"You okay back there?" I asked as we continued to climb.

I was wasting a tremendous amount of fuel with such a hard climb out, but I didn't care. There wasn't a glider in the world that could outperform the Peregrine, and it would take a dedicated sport plane to match her. I smiled, certain there wasn't a glider pilot on the ground who wasn't staring up at us in slack jawed wonder.

"Yeah. I think."

I chuckled. "I know you don't have anything to compare her to, but what do you think of the Peregrine now?"

"I don't know what to think."

"Watch the wing," I said as we approached five thousand feet.

I eased off on the throttle and pushed the nose down. Azumi was sitting immediately in front of the wing and would have a good view as the wing transitioned from high lift to a more streamlined shape.

"Oh wow! I can see it moving! It looks like something is moving inside the wing! How does it do that?"

"It's reacting to the forces being placed on it. To control the aircraft, I apply a tiny electrical current to the bi-metallic strips that causes them to deform, which in turn twists the wing to give me flight control. The structure inside the wing also passively compresses and expands as the aerodynamic forces... apply... to... you know, never mind. It's magic," I said with a smile.

"Thank you. My ears were about to start bleeding." She paused, then exclaimed, "Oh wow! The wing looks completely different now! It's like it's untwisted. That's so cool!"

I idled the engine down and switched it off. As soon as it cooled enough, it would retract on its own and we'd be a beautifully streamlined glider again.

"Now, we're a glider."

"It's so quiet!"

"Yeah. We're a lot louder under power than most gliders, but once we switch off..."

"What a view!"

I glanced around. With the Rockies off our starboard side and the cities of Boulder and Denver off our port, it was an amazing view. I smiled to myself. I'd logged hundreds of hours in the Peregrine, but I couldn't remember ever taking a moment to enjoy the view.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I could get used to this!"

I smiled. "I like it up here. It's quiet."

"You want me to shut up?"

"No. It's nice to have someone to talk to."

"So why don't you talk to me then?" she asked after a moment, her voice soft.

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Really?" she asked, her disdain clear in her tone.

I guided the plane, the only sound the soft rustle of the air past the cabin. "Look, I'm sorry. You've been great, but if you want to bail, I guess I can't hold that against you. I know I'm not what you expected."

"I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't expect you to be so... stoic. If you wanted to meet me, why do you keep pushing me away? You say it's not me, but you sure don't act that way. Sometimes you act like you don't care if I'm here or not."

"I'm glad you're here."

"You say that, but your words don't match your actions. Like today. I saw a completely different Roger Bentley during the unveiling of the Peregrine. You were so full of life, but as soon as it was over, you turned back into this... this... this guy who walls himself off and becomes completely unapproachable. Why is that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know or you won't say?"

I swallowed hard. "I don't know. Today was an act. If you don't act excited about something, nobody else will likely be excited about it either. I need this to work. It has to."

"I don't understand. So what if your wing doesn't fly, no pun intended. So you won't be a billionaire. Is money all you care about?"

"No."

"Then what's the big deal? You're a smart guy. It's not like you're going to starve. I'm sure there's lots of places that would love to hire you."

"Maybe."

"Then... what? I don't understand."

I sighed. "I know."

She was quiet for a moment. "And you're not going to explain it to me?"

I flew the plane for a moment as I gathered my thoughts. "I don't know how. It's all... feelings. There isn't any logic to it."

"You feel how you feel. There doesn't have to be any logic to it." She fell silent for a long moment. "Roger, just tell me what's bothering you. If it isn't me, maybe I can help," she continued when I didn't say anything.

I sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you happy?"

"Happy enough, I guess."

"So that's a no."

I small smile touched my lips. "I wouldn't say that, but it seems like there should be more to life than this."

"There is, you dumbass. Why don't you try living a little and stop working all the time?"