Aussie Rules by Jill Shalvis

sighed, rolled her eyes, and read the rest of his response.
    But I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, stop pissing people off .
    Yeah, yeah. Leave it alone .
    What the hell did that mean? She’d received plenty of ambiguous mail over the years. Each and every time she raised their fuel prices, for instance. Or when she’d had to cut back North Beach’s hours of operation from 24/7 to six AM until five PM . Or when she’d once refused a rich client service for his five jets because he’d wanted her to arrange for prostitutes for all his crew.
    But none of those had been anonymous threats. So who? Bo?
    No. He wouldn’t go the anonymous route, he had no need to do so.
    Still, the coincidence seemed too much to ignore…
    Leave it alone. Leave what alone? The airport? The questionable deed in Bo’s hands? She closed her e-mail program and put the e-mail out of her mind. She had a long charter to Tuscon and back, a flight that would keep her away from North Beach until late, and it was time to put her head there. On the way out for her preflight check, she stopped at the café, where Char was working on something that smelled like pure heaven.
    â€œWhite Trash Casserole, straight from my momma’s box of favorite recipes,” Char drawled over KISS screeching on the radio. Her purple hair was piled on top of her head, precariously held there by what looked like two pencils. She wore another pair of short shorts, and today’s T-shirt said: TAKE A BITE OF ME . PLEASE .
    â€œLord, it’s going to be a hot one today,” Char said. “Or maybe I’m just getting hot flashes.” She fanned herself with the hem of her shirt. “Anyway, got a late start this morning, sorry. This won’t be ready in time for you but I’ve got donuts.”
    If Mel was compulsively early, Charlene was compulsively late, but she loaded Mel up with a bag of the mouthwatering donuts, and all was forgiven. “You need an alarm clock,” Mel said.
    â€œOh, it’s not that. Al and I—”
    â€œStop right there if this story ends with the two of you having sex.”
    â€œWell…” Char giggled.
    Mel grabbed her bag of donuts. “I’ve got my fingers in my ears, I can’t hear you—”
    â€œWe just—”
    â€œLalalalalalala,” Mel sang over Char’s laugh, and went out onto the tarmac.
    Three men stood next to a Piper Mirage in the early-morning sun: Danny, the customer who owned the Piper, and Bo. Danny wore his coveralls and was consulting a clipboard, his long blond hair still damp from his early surf. Their customer was in a pricey-looking suit. Bo wore cargo shorts, a sweatshirt, and clean work boots, his legs looking long and tanned. All three men, different as night and day, were laughing about something, carefree and easygoing.
    Mel hadn’t felt carefree and easygoing in so long; money issues, stress…And she resented that Bo could show up here, turn her world upside down, and laugh. Damn it, he was integrating himself, making himself right at home. In her home.
    LeaveItAlone…
    Had he? Would he?
    No, she reminded herself, even if the man made her teeth gnash together, he wouldn’t. Not his style.
    He lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and met her gaze. In his she saw the ready humor and the unasked question. What now, Mel?
    She’d like to show him “what now” right now. But it’d sure be easier if he didn’t look like a million bucks standing there, if he wasn’t street smart and sharp as a tack, capable of running her world without problem, maybe even better than she…
    Extra grateful for the bag of donuts in her hand, she stalked to her plane and began her own preflight check. She was in a crouch, writing on her clipboard when two work boots appeared in her peripheral, topped by a set of tanned, toned legs. Bracing herself, she straightened.
    Bo eyed