Nervous Flier Read online

  Dawson's excuse was so feeble it almost made her snort, and she would have too, had she not been so heartbroken. There was no way that tall, leggy creature had been Dawson's sister. Dawson had bright blond hair and light eyes. The two of them looked nothing alike.

  "You could have come up with something better than that." Noel scowled.

  Then Noel whirled around and ran away, her arms pumping at her sides. Tears streamed down her face and her breath left her in unattractive grunts, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that after Peter had broken her heart, Dawson had turned around and stolen all the pieces.

  ****

  Agony. That was all Noel felt. It was like her head was in a giant fog of it. She couldn't see, she could hardly think. Everything she did was painful as if thousands of tiny cuts covered every inch of her and movements made the scabs crack and break. Going to work was necessary, but when she was there, she was always somewhere else in her head. Maybe with Dawson, watching the gorgeous woman peck his lips. Or maybe with Peter and his leggy blonde. As Noel lumbered toward a patron who had ordered an espresso and a hot apple turnover, she entered painful self-examination mode and continued to phase out.

  Was the problem her? Noel knew that she fell in love too quickly and too fiercely. Trusted too much. Before she had always thought that being honest went hand in hand with having others be honest with her. She was wrong. They weren't mutually exclusive. As Noel looked around the coffee shop after delivering the order to the plump brunette woman who had ordered the espresso, anger overwhelmed her in crashing waved. Insurmountable distrust filled her. It felt as though she wasn't human even though everybody else was.

  And then there was her body. Maybe Noel's problem wasn't just that she loved too quickly, but she wasn't what men wanted. The idea that she should give up on men altogether danced in her mind as she looked down at herself and felt crushed by what she saw. She was no size two blonde or tall, thin exotic woman. Both of her parents were larger people and she had never had any problem with herself until this moment when she wondered whether the world had changed too much and grown too vain. Suddenly, Noel had the urge to drop her tray on the ground and sprint for the nearest bar to guzzle down a drink. The fact there was a young couple stealing kisses outside beneath a red and white striped umbrella didn't help.

  Should I go home? Noel looked down the streets of America and thought of Sydney and all that she missed. Her family, the blue ocean, the sandy beaches. On top of that, Noel had a lot of friends back in Australia. Maybe not a lot of love interests, but friends. She could really use a friend right now. Dawson was the wakeup call she needed. The world was telling her to go home.

  Shoulders slumped, Noel meandered back behind the counter, then sighed.

  Chapter FiveNoel sat in front of her computer, staring at the screen before her. It had the itinerary of a flight back to Sydney, but she had not clicked the purchase button yet. It wasn't that she didn't have the money. Her mom and dad had offered to give her five hundred dollars to go home after her hellish ordeal. No, the reason why she couldn't click the enter key was because she kept seeing Dawson's face.

  With a groan, Noel turned around, then flopped on her air mattress and buried her face in the material. She had to fight down the urge to drive her own head against the wall. Why was she letting the idea of Dawson stop her from heading home? Really, Dawson should have been the driving force to get her as far away from this awful place as possible. But she couldn't stop thinking about him. All she wanted to do was erase the last week and go back to when Dawson was trustworthy and when she still had faith in humanity, even with all of her anger at Peter.

  As Noel pummeled the bed with her fists like a five-year-old during a temper tantrum, her cell phone rang in her pocket. She buried her hand in her pants, then pulled out the phone and glared at the caller ID. It read, 'Peter.' She was so shocked she almost dropped the phone. For a second she almost didn't answer it, but then the anger of what he had done to her bubbled up to the surface. She was tired of men like Peter and Dawson. She was tired of being used. With a growl, Noel answered the phone, prepared to give Peter exactly what he deserved—an ear scorching.

  Unfortunately, before Noel had any time to spew fire, Peter ranted first.

  "I can't believe you would send your boyfriend after me. Didn't take you long to find a replacement for me, did it?" Peter growled. "Not only did the dick give me a black eye, Nancy heard us fighting and broke up with me. You bitch. You have it coming."

  Shock took over anger. Boyfriend? Who the heck would beat up Peter? Before she would have assumed it was Dawson, but she had told him to never visit her again and had meant it.

  "W, what are you talking about?" Noel asked. "I don't have a boyfriend."

  "Sure you don't." Anger overwhelmed every word. "Tall, blond, pretty boy. Never thought he would fight like that. He came storming up here and called me a dick for breaking your heart and punched me in the face. Don't you dare tell me you didn't send him after me, because I know you did."

  It was Dawson. Noel's eyes grew so wide they ached. She had no idea why Dawson would bother beating up Peter when he had broken her heart too. Though Noel knew she should have apologized for the incident, she couldn't stomach the thought of uttering the words "I'm sorry" to such a slime ball.

  "I didn't send him after you," Noel snapped. "I don't have anything to do with that man. Now don't call me again or I'll make you regret it."

  Though Peter yelled something angrily into the phone, Noel shut off the power before she could hear what it was. As she laid her phone down on the bed, she stared at it, overwhelmed with confusion. For just a moment she turned her head and glanced at the computer on the desk, sighed, then shut the top of the laptop. A few more days of working at the coffee shop wouldn't kill her. It didn't matter where she was, after all. America or beautiful Australia, her heart was still going to hurt.

  ****

  Noel hovered in the back of the coffee shop where they kept their supplies. Piles of desserts delivered by the bakery down the street sat in the right hand corner and stacks of cardboard boxes filled with coffee were to her left. As Noel glanced down at the clipboard in hand and then looked up at the boxes again, she heard the sound of the back door squeaking open. That door was louder than a lion's growl. Frowning, Noel turned around, wishing she hadn't been interrupted. The busy work had finally gotten her mind off of her recent heartbreaks.

  A high school aged employee, Danielle, walked through the door. Danielle was tall, thin, and red haired. Noel had never seen anybody eat so much and be so thin. The girl could have eaten their entire supply of cheesecakes and it would have dissolved in her stomach.

  "What do you need?" Noel asked. "Is it getting crowded in the store and you need a cashier?"

  "No." Danielle shook her head, then grinned knowingly. "There is a hunk outside asking for you. He says it's extremely important."

  Noel's mind jumped to both Dawson and Peter. Peter could have been here to seek revenge about getting beaten up, but he didn't know where she worked. That left Dawson. Though her heart thundered in anxiety, a small part of her got a rush she wished she could fight down. Dawson was a cheating scumbag. She had too much self-respect to put up with that kind of behavior like some women did.

  "Are you okay?" The grin slid off of Danielle's face. "Should I tell him to get lost?"

  Though Noel was sorely tempted if only for her own sake, she shook her head. She was an adult, and there was no way she was going to let a teenage girl fight her battles for her.

  "I'll talk to him." Noel straightened her shoulders. "Guess that means I'll be taking an extra break today."

  "The boss is gone. He won't even notice." Danielle shrugged. "I'll take over back here."

  Danielle's kindness stunned her. She had been so obsessed with seeing the world as a bad place lately she had forgotten there was a lot of good in it too.

  "You sure?" Noel asked. "You should be off now."

  "I'v
e noticed how sad you've been lately. Guy trouble is the worst." Danielle nodded toward the door. "You just take care of it."

  "Thanks, Danielle." As Noel headed for the door, she squeezed Danielle's shoulder on the way by. "I'll get this over with fast."

  Strengthened by Danielle's kindness, Noel prepared herself. With every step, though, she trembled more and more. She didn't want to talk to Dawson and see his face which would remind her of the gorgeous woman he had kissed that day on the porch. When she reached the door to the front, she hesitated, then pushed it open and stepped through it. The clerk glanced curiously at her then turned back to attending the line of patrons eager for coffee. Next to the line stood the man Noel was both eager and uneager to see. Dawson.

  Dawson didn't appear as attractive as he had before. His blond hair was the usual mess, but without the healthy, sexy sheen it normally had. Dark bags were underneath his eyes. His skin, which used to have a golden glow, was now pale and pasty. His clothes were baggy and wrinkled. In his arms, he held a bag. Noel approached him so stunned by his appearance some of her previous anger was crushed.

  "Dawson?" Noel raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

  "I know you told me to stay away, but we had a big misunderstanding." Dawson said this all very fast so that the words combined together into mush. "That woman you saw on my front porch really was my sister, Kenya. My parents adopted her from Haiti. Look."

  Before Noel could say anything otherwise, Dawson spilled the contents of his plastic bag all over the coffee bar, earning him scowls from patrons. Dawson ignored this. So did Noel after she realized what was in the bag. Pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. There were pictures of Dawson and Kenya as kids sitting in front of the Grand Canyon with his tall, curly-haired mother and short, golden skinned father. There were pictures of the two of them as teenagers, eating pizza and drinking cans of soda in front of the television. There were even pictures of a wedding. Kenya's wedding. Kenya, in a trailing wedding dress, stood beside a tall man who gripped her arm while grinning at her. At her side, Dawson watched with his eyes sparkling.

  Suddenly, Noel was hit with crushing relief and sheer embarrassment so powerful that everything she had felt before seemed weak in comparison. Dawson was not a two-timer. The girl who had kissed him before leaving was his sister and Noel…Noel had made a moron of herself. Suddenly, even the simplest ability to find words were lost on her. She had done many stupid things in her life. She had trusted Peter, she had jumped off the school roof with a paper sack in an attempt to fly, and she had drunk two bottles champagne in one sitting, but even combining all of those stupid choices would not equal to what she had done this time. She couldn't breathe because she struggled so hard to figure out what to say.

  "Do you believe me yet?" Dawson's voice was hoarse. "I didn't know what else to do other than show you these pictures."

  The timid way Dawson spoke overwhelmed her with guilt. Dawson really liked her, and she had steamrolled him. Why did he even bother to come back to her when she was such an idiot?

  "I am so sorry," Noel whispered. "I thought…I thought…"

  "I know exactly what you thought, and I don't blame you after what that bastard did to you." Dawson shook his head. "I just didn't know what to do to clear up the misunderstanding. Then I found the pictures and knew you would have to believe me if I showed you."

  "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

  "You told me not to come near you again." Dawson exhaled a shaky sigh. "To be honest, I was scared that the pictures wouldn't make a difference in your opinion of me. I really like you, Noel. Your words cut me deep. I didn't want to hear them again. I didn't think I could take it."

  Neither of them spoke. Noel saw the sadness and uncertainty in Dawson's eyes and once again was struck by the fact she was the biggest idiot in the world. She reached over and grabbed Dawson's hand, which was warm beneath her own. Dawson hesitated, then placed his other hand on top of hers. It didn't matter that the people in line had begun to stare. All that mattered was her and him. She was so relieved that he wasn't an asshole and so happy that not all men were bad. Not only had Dawson cleared his own name, but seemingly that of the whole human race as well. After what she had thought Dawson had done, she believed she would never trust again.

  "So…" Dawson cut through her thoughts, then shuffled his feet.

  "Do you think we can have a do over?" Noel winced. "Pretend that I never made that stupid mistake of believing you were capable of being that evil."

  Dawson's tired frown slowly morphed into a grin. "That depends. Do I still get the belated overnight weekend with the woman of my dreams tonight?"

  "It's Wednesday." Noel blanched.

  "Same difference." Dawson shrugged. "Every night is weekend at casa Dawson."

  Suddenly Noel felt so happy she thought she might float away like a balloon. "Better make a reservation for two."

  With a laugh, Dawson nodded.

  Chapter SixThat night, Noel lay beneath Dawson on rose colored silk sheets as he massaged her back and the scent of rose oil filled the room. In the background, soft tribal music played. Everything was relaxing, from Dawson's steady, solid hands on her shoulders kneading away the tension she had felt over the past couple of days to the lavender walls and the distant call of birds outside the window. As Dawson massaged her back, Noel couldn't help but think about Peter's phone call and chuckle.

  "What's so funny?" Dawson asked seductively, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and making her shiver.

  "Did you really beat up Peter?" Noel grinned into her pillow. "How did you even find out where he lived?"

  "Oh." Dawson stiffened. "You mentioned what he did for a living, so I looked his first name and his job up online. The only other Peter in Chicago who works as a stockbroker is sixty years old, so he was easy to find. I figured out where he lived, then punched him in the face and ran away. I don't think he knows who I am, thank God."

  Noel snorted into her pillow, imagining the expression on Peter's face.

  "Wait. How did you know I did that?" Dawson went rigid. "I kind of was embarrassed."

  "He called me, ranting about my boyfriend." Noel shook her head, still chortling. "Apparently, his fiancé heard you yelling and broke up with him too."

  "Oh, no, not that." Dawson stopped straddling her and sat at her side instead. "It's not like she would be better off without him or anything."

  "Not at all." Noel rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling.

  For a second Dawson didn't move, but then he rolled so he was lengthwise on the bed and facing her. He reached forward and ran his fingers down from her chin all the way between her breasts where a line of buttons ran up her blouse. He massaged the line of buttons as he gazed at her with an intense expression on his face. Noel turned and gazed deep into his bright eyes.

  "So you aren't mad because of what I did?" Dawson asked.

  "Mad?" Noel shook her head. "Are you crazy? That guy deserved what he got."

  "I thought so too." Dawson's brows furrowed. "I'm not usually the aggressive type, but that guy…I could have spent all day punching him."

  "He wouldn't be worth that." Noel reached out and stroked his cheek. "There are better things to spend all day doing."

  The irises of Dawson's eyes darkened and a smirk crossed his face as he said with a husky whisper, "That there are."

  Then Dawson leaned forward, cupped her cheek with his palm, then gently kissed her lips. His warm, sweet smelling breath tickled her nose as she wrapped her arms around his strong back and then buried her fingers in the soft material of his black t-shirt. The gentleness faded as Dawson probed her mouth with his tongue, eager to enter her. She was just as eager to receive him and opened her lips, allowing Dawson inside. As Dawson massaged her tongue with his, she could feel his cock hardening against her thigh as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

  Pleasure overwhelmed her because Dawson was just as turned on by her as she was by him. With a groan agains
t Dawson's lips, Noel ran her fingers down the front of his chest, feeling his hard muscles and enjoying every sultry inch of his flesh. When she reached the bottom of his shirt, she grabbed fistfuls of material, then began to yank it up over his body. Dawson pulled his tongue from her mouth, sat up, then lifted his arms. She yanked the shirt over his head, revealing every fine inch of Greek god that Dawson had hidden beneath the material.

  Dawson's chest was dusted with a fine layer of golden hair. His torso was hard and toned. Below his chest, his flat stomach led downward to a fine patch of hair which disappeared beyond the line of his pants. At the sight of Dawson's gorgeous body, Noel's cunt grew wet with eagerness. She could not contain herself. Reaching forward, she buried her fingers in Dawson's chest hair, enjoying how soft it was. Even his smell, which was sweet and similar to incense, drove her insane with want. She could have pressed her nose against his skin and spent all day inhaling his sweet smell. If there was a way to make bottled Dawson, Noel would have bought it by the truckload.

  After Noel ran her fingers down from Dawson's fine chest hair and over his smooth, toned muscles, Dawson reached for her, stroking the pulsing vein in her neck then dipping downward toward the buttons of her shirt again. This time, he didn't just run his fingers over the seam. Instead he unbuttoned the buttons expertly one by one. When he reached the final button at the bottom and her body was hit with a slight chill, she shivered. With an eager grin, Dawson pushed the shirt over her shoulders, revealing her pale flesh beneath.

  Unlike Dawson, Noel was not naturally tan nor did she spend much time outdoors with her shirt off. Her pale skin didn't appear to bother Dawson, however. Instead he leaned forward, kissed the pale acres of fleshy breast which bulged above her lacy lavender bra, and reached around her to unhook it. Faster than even she could have managed, Dawson released her breasts from their trap and her mountains poured out. When Dawson groaned in want and reached forward to toy with her right nipple, it hardened and rose to meet his fingers. The tips of Noel's nipples were so sensitive that Dawson's touch sent a rush of pleasure from her breast all the way down to her clit.