Crash Landing. Lori Wilde

to the wedding if you want, but you’re not changing my mind.”

      “This is craziness!” Gibb yanked at the knot of his tie. “You’ve lost your mind over a piece of—”

      “Don’t say it,” Scott threatened.

      Gibb was so upset that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “Tail.”

      A dial tone sounded in his ear.

      His very best buddy on the planet had just hung up on him. Shocked, Gibb stared at the phone. Disturbing how fate could turn life on a whim.

      SOPHIA WAS FILLING up the gas tank on El Diablo when Gibb Martin came stalking up to her, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight and a determined expression on his lips.

      “I need you to fly me to Key West, Florida,” he demanded.

      She cocked an eyebrow at him, holstered the nozzle back into the pump. “What bit you?”

      “I want to leave right now.” He tapped the face of his Rolex with an impatient finger.

      “Mosquito? Botfly? Hornet?”

      If he were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears. “No joking around. Time is of the essence.”

      She lifted one shoulder. “Sorry, amigo.”

      “I’ll pay handsomely.”

      “No can do.”

      “What?” He looked stunned that she’d refused him.

      “N.O. Nada.”

      “How much would it take to change your mind?”

      “Money is not the issue.”

      “What is?”

      “Well, for one thing, I already have a 2:00 p.m. fare.”

      “They can wait. Call another bush pilot.”

      What an arrogant tool he was. “My, we have a grand sense of our own importance, don’t we?”

      Gibb snorted, pressing his lips into a firm line. “This is an emergency.”

      “An emergency?” That changed everything. Why was she such a smart mouth? “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said contritely. “Did someone die?”

      “Worse.”

      Sophia put a hand to her heart. “What is worse than death?”

      “Marriage.”

      Confused, Sophia pushed her hat back on her head. “Someone is getting married? That is your emergency?”

      “Yes.” His voice was flat, brooking no more questions.

      Sophia questioned anyway. “You’re against marriage?”

      “Not in general. Not for most people. It’s just not my personal bailiwick.”

      “Bailiwick?”

      “It means sphere of knowledge.”

      She grimaced. “Fan-cy.”

      “Once upon a time I hired a vocabulary coach, deal with it.”

      She raised both palms. “Communication doesn’t work unless you can speak so that others understand you.”

      “Andalé, andalé.” He made shooing motions at her. “How’s that for communication?”

      “Have you been watching old Speedy Gonzales cartoons?”

      “It’s not the correct word?” His face colored.

      “Not if you don’t mind sounding like a cartoon mouse. Vámonos or rápido might be what you’re looking for.”

      “Well, let’s vámonos, rápido, rápido.”

      “There’s one thing I’m still unclear on.”

      He exhaled loudly. “What’s that?”

      “How is marriage an emergency?”

      “I have to stop the wedding.”

      “Ah, I see.” She nodded.

      “See what?”

      “You are still hung up on a former lover and she has broken your heart by marrying another before you could reconcile.”

      “No, no.” He shifted, jammed his hands in his pockets and leaned in closer to her. “That’s not it at all.”

      She caught a whiff of his scent—kumquat, leather, musk—nice cologne. “Then what is it?”

      “She’s all wrong for him.”

      “Who?”

      “He has only known her a month,” Gibb muttered.

      “Who?”

      “It’s ridiculous.”

      “Why?”

      “A month!” Gibb exclaimed. “My best friend is getting married to a woman that he’s only known for one month.”

      “Oh, I see. That clearly is the end of the world.”

      “Would you marry a man you’d only known for a month?”

      Sophia grinned, trying to get him to lighten up. “Depends on the man.”

      He scoffed, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

      “One of what?”

      “Die-hard romantics.”

      “I have not found my true love but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe he’s not out there somewhere.”

      Gibb raised his face to the sky. “Please, spare me the love impaired.”

      “What is wrong with love?”

      “It muddles the brain. Clouds your judgment. Makes you do dumb things like get married to someone you’ve only known a month.”

      “But what if this woman makes your friend truly happy?”

      “She doesn’t. He just thinks she does.”

      “How do you know that for sure?”

      “Look, I don’t have time to stand around here dissecting it to death. My best buddy is about to make the biggest mistake of his life. I have to leave immediately for Key West to save him from himself.”

      “You can’t tell him this over the telephone?”

      “He hung up on me.” Gibb sounded highly offended. “And when I tried to call him back, he wouldn’t answer and he’s disabled his voicemail.”

      “I can see why. Clearly, you are overreacting.”

      He held up both palms. “Look, I don’t need your opinion. I just need your flying expertise. How much would you charge to fly me to Key West right now?”

      Sophia cast a glance over her shoulder at El Diablo. She’d never flown any farther than Belize. “My plane is not equipped to fly such a long distance. It’s over fifteen hundred kilometers to Key West.”

      He waved a hand. “You can do it. I’ve watched you fly passengers in and out for the last two weeks. You’re an excellent pilot.”

      He had been watching her? Sophia’s cheeks warmed. His flattery was dangerous. Damn this desire to show off her piloting skills and prove him right. “Thank you very much for the compliment, but the gas tanks on a plane this size only hold so much fuel. We would have to stop to refuel.”

      “So we stop. Let’s go.” He opened the pilot’s door of the plane and motioned for her to hop in.

      She stepped over to shut the door. “You are