Fighting for Flight Read Online Free PDF

coat his arms from his wrists to
beneath his shirt. I wonder how far they go? Over the bulk of his
shoulders to his corded back to—
    “Raven?” The sound of my name pulls my
attention.
    “Hmm?”
    He’s standing at a huge sliding glass door, smiling
as if he’s in on a joke I missed. “I lost you for a minute. Am I
that boring?” His rugged physique is all man, but his boyish
dimples and bright smile make my head swim.
    “What? Oh, no, it’s just I’ve never been in a house
this big before.” I make a show of casting my eyes to the rafters. Wow, this place is huge. I should have paid more attention.
“It’s a lot to take in.”
    A tiny grimace touches his face for a moment before
it disappears. What did I say? I’m grateful to see his easy grin
return.
    “Oh, well then, let’s get to the best part.” He
holds his hand out for me to take. “Shall we?”
    I stare at it before my own lifts from my side. And
like the bug that flies helplessly, drawn by the bright blue light
that is Jonah Slade, I place my hand into his.
    Not giving me a moment to soak in the contact, he
turns and walks out the door. I’m not used to being touched,
especially by someone like him, and it takes me a second to find my
legs. I stumble once, thankful to catch myself before he
notices.
    We pass through his huge backyard. I see a pool in
my peripheral vision. I would look directly at it, but I’m unable
to drag my eyes away from our clasped hands. His hand is huge. Mine
seems so small in comparison. His touch is strong and gentle at the
same time. He could crush my bones with a flex of his fingers, but
there’s a security in his hold that feels safe. I’m smiling like an
idiot. Great.
    We stop at a large building off to the side of his
house.
    “Here we are.” He swings open the door and leads me
in.
    There’s no light, but the smell has my eyes roaming
the dark. He drops my hand. I pout at the loss of his touch until
he flicks on the lights.
    I suck air on a quick gasp. “Oh my goodness,
Jonah.”
     

Three
    Raven
    My mouth hangs open. I breathe in deep. The familiar
smells of gasoline, oil, and rubber calm my nervous stomach. I’m in
my sanctuary.
    Jonah’s garage looks like something out of Car
and Driver magazine: The diamond-plated chrome and black metal
cabinetry polished to a shine. Rows upon rows of drawers in
different widths probably hold every tool imaginable. The floors
are covered in a slick, gray coating that is so clean I could eat
off it. He wasn’t kidding when he said I’d have all the tools I
need. There’s even a BendPak hydraulic car lift.
    “This is amazing,” I whisper to myself, feeling
completely relaxed and at ease. “Why do you have all this stuff?”
My eyes continue to take in the surroundings.
    “Hobby. I like fast cars, like to fuck around in
here. Problem is I don’t have time to learn the ins and outs.”
    “I could teach you.” The words fly on a knee-jerk
reaction. I scrunch up my face and sink into my shoulders, fighting
my chagrin. I glance over my shoulder and find him staring at
me.
    His answering grin sends my gaze across the garage.
I can’t look at him when he’s smiling at me like that.
    It’s then that I notice the truck he drove to the
shop yesterday. I take a closer look. Walking around it, I study
each component from the Pro Comp forty-inch tires to the RBP custom
grille. I swear the thing looks like it’ll growl.
    Stepping deeper into what’s at least a ten car
garage, I see a gunmetal gray beast that makes my heart rate kick
double time.
    “That’s a ’68 Camaro.” I tell the car. Jonah steps
to my side from behind me.
    Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nods. “I didn’t
fix her up. Bought her from a guy in Arizona.”
    I walk around, trailing my finger along her flawless
gray paint. “What’s she running?”
    He doesn’t answer right away, and his eyes are dark
in a way that I feel deep in my belly. “572 big block.”
    I whistle low. “That’s