Destination Elk Pond

Chapter 2-2

I sat in the dining room checking out the menu, surprised at the variety offered, but glad there were more choices than soups and sandwiches. I had to do a quick double-take when an amazing specimen of masculinity walked in and headed directly to what seemed to be his regular table. He was a tall man, maybe not quite as tall as me, but definitely proportional. He had on a Moroccan-style T-shirt that showed off his remarkable pecs and arms. His sandy hair was short, and even from where I sat I could see the intense beauty of his eyes. His jeans reminded me more of a menu than a fashion statement, and he filled them out nicely, no matter how I looked at it. If he was a regular in this town, it was a good incentive to stick around, but since he was eating in the hotel, I figured he was probably just passing through.

“Hello, I asked if you’re ready to order.” The young waitress had a pen poised above her order book.

I looked up and shrugged. “Sorry, I was distracted…how about a club sandwich, salad with Ranch dressing instead of fries, and maybe a beer to go with it.”

I glanced over at the other menu, as I debated which would be the appetizer, the main course, and finally dessert. She noticed and frowned. “He’s a pilot. Need I say more? Ken, our airport manager, says they are just oversexed bus drivers.”

“Does he live here, or is he just on a layover, like other flight crews that stay at the hotel?”

“He lives here, been around for something like five or six years now. I think he came from out east somewhere. He usually eats here once a week. A real nice guy actually.” She glanced around. “Don’t tell Edna I said that though. For some reason she doesn’t care for the guy.”

She went over to take his order and, as he spoke with her, he glanced my way. His eyebrows rose minutely, but enough to be noticeable. He continued his discussion with her while she jotted notes in her order book. When she left, he looked at me again, and nodded. I smiled and returned the gesture. My beer arrived, and she brought me a newspaper to read while I waited for my dinner.

I glanced up at one point to see the pilot still looking at me. His tongue traced a trail over his perfectly formed upper lip. I quickly raised the paper and went back to an article about logging around Elk Pond. I refused to get picked up on my second day in town. I absolutely refused, despite how gorgeous the man was, and the tightness I felt in my jeans.

After dinner, which included more eye contact with the pilot, I signed the chit to charge the meal to my room, got a beer to go, and left. I had one last gaze into the eyes of that dreamy pilot as I left, and when I got to my room, I licked a finger and made an imaginary mark on an imaginary chalk board. Man 2, p***s 0.