Chapter Eight
Flynn
Three weeks after Daphne’s arrival
“Daphne!” I called.
She turned, and her auburn hair lifted in the breeze. I’d become accustomed to the low hum of electricity that ran through my body like a repeating circuit around her even though I willfully ignored it.
“Yes?” She approached me where I was standing beside my small plane.
In the three weeks Daphne had been here, she stopped wearing blouses and nice boots but somehow still looked like a princess. Today, she wore a pair of jeans that fit like a glove, molding to her toned thighs before disappearing into a pair of hot pink rubber boots with black polka dots. Atop that, she wore a fitted T-shirt that had Kickass Woman emblazoned in pink glitter directly over her breasts. God help me.
“Mind sitting on the wing?” I
