Fortunately, we’re able to get out of there in under ten minutes, and we’re quickly moved to a private lounge area while they finish prepping the plane Daddy chartered for our flight home. They’re going to load us on golf carts to drive us across the airport to where the private jets awaits us.
If Daddy has arranged for reporters to accompany us on the flight home, I’ll fucking kill him,andCarter for not stepping in and putting his foot down about it.
Apparently, even Daddy knows when not to push me. No press. It’ll be the five of us, Connie’s sons and daughters-in-law, and a two-person paramedic team.
I eye them and then glare at Daddy. “We were cleared to fly and travel, Daddy.”
He shrugs. “Your mother insisted. For you two, and for me.”
Momma firmly nods. “Damnright, I did.”
“They’re not staying in the house with me tonight,” I say, then it hits me.
Oh, fuck.
They’re probably going to want to stay at their townhouse tonight so they can be with me.
Ineedalone time with Carter and Owen. I’m sure Owen desperately needs that, too. I shift in my wheelchair to look at Daddy. “You and Momma can’t stay in the townhouse tonight,” I softly say. “You need to go home.”
He looks like he’s trying to get huffy with me. “Bullshit, we can’t.”
I sigh. “Daddy, Ineedto decompress. You guys can come over in the morning and stay all day, if you want, butI’mputting my foot down about tonight.”
He glares at Carter. “Tell her no.”
Carter snorts. “Youtell her no.I’mgoing to beyes-dearingher to infinity. Sorry, but you’re on your own, Benchley.”
Thankfully, Momma intervenes. “Benchley, I think she’s right. I warned you she and Carter will want to be alone.”
Well, okay, let’s go withthat. I just won’t tell them about Owen. Or, if they find out about him being there, I’ll claim it’s work-related, an excuse Daddy can’t argue with.
Carter leans in to whisper in my ear. “Can Owen and I go—”
I pat his hand. “I’ll wait for you.”
He kisses me. I’m aware that Owen’s already slipped away to the lounge’s men’s room, and Carter quickly follows him.
Probably won’t put him on his knees there, but Carter can at least rub his head, talk to him.
Give Owen a moment to suck in a deep breath without a dozen people around him.
Especially when I know all our boy wants to do is kneel in front of me, put his head in my lap, and feel me rub his head.
* * * *
We make it on board the chartered jet. I pick a set of three seats in the very back—making it harder for others to spy on what we’re doing without being obvious, because they’d have to turn around—and Carter helps me strap in. I think Daddy’s a little perturbed at me that I ask Owen to sit on my other side instead of him or Momma, but he’ll just have to suck it up.
After what I’ve been through, I don’t think anyone has the right to tell me who to pick to be my seatmates.
I don’t bother to hide the fact that I’m holding their hands, either. There’s no press with us now, and Carter instructs the flight attendant to let him know if she sees anyone taking pictures of us with a camera or phone.
We have relative privacy.
As we rumble down the runway and pick up speed, I squeeze their hands, hard. Carter and Owen lean in, their heads tipped close and touching mine, as Carter whispers to both of us. I know how hard this is for our husband, considering Carter hates flying way worse than we do. That he’s being so strong for us now is one more small thing in the infinite universe that is Carter’s strength and love.
Although, to be honest, I pretty much despise flying now. I’ll be going back to the I-75 commutes between Tallahassee and Tampa via car for the foreseeable future. If it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t want to spend a week in a carnow, I’d have demanded Carter rent an SUV and drive us home to Florida.
Also, if it wasn’t for the fact that we need to get Owen back to work ASAP, I would have asked Daddy to fly us into Tampa so we could go to sleep in the Brandon house tonight.
