“And here I thought you were a good influence.” I speak over my shoulder as I slide into my seat.
“I am.” He pops the hatch on the back, sliding in my suitcase before running around to his side of the SUV, and getting in. “Your suitcase is heavy. I hope that means you brought lots of board games.”
“Board games, snacks, fuzzy socks.” I click my seat belt and glance at him, a full lightning bolt zapping through my gut when I realizethis is it.
I’m really going away.
And I’m leaving with Bill Baker—a billionaire—to see if we have a romantic connection.
This can’t be my life!
“That’s perfect packing.” He shifts the vehicle into drive and pulls out. “We won’t have a chance to get bored.”
The drive to the airport is quiet in that comfortable way I’m still getting used to. He hums a little to whatever song is on the radio while he leaves one hand on the wheel and the otherresting relaxed near the console. Every few minutes his gaze slides to me, like he’s checking to make sure I haven’t changed my mind.
I haven’t.
He’s clean-shaven today, which is so unfair, because it brings out his sharp jawline and smirk that seems to have the ability to get me to confess all my thoughts. His shirt is a deep blue to match his eyes, and it fits just right. The rich scent of his cologne drifts over, something dark and subtle with a hint of spice. I fight the ridiculous urge to lean over just to figure out what that spice is.
Clove, maybe?
No, I haven’t changed my mind about going with him.
If anything, each mile we travel away from town only solidifies that I need this weekend away.
And Iwant this weekend with him.
“You dressed handsome,” I say, my tone deliberately normal, though my heartbeat is anything but a normal rate.
He grins with one of his eyebrows lifted. “Well, I’m glad you approve. I was hoping to impress you.”
I smirk. “Maybe it’s working.”
His mouth curves into something just shy of smug. “So, you have been checking me out.”
“I didn’t say I was checking you out,” I protest very weakly, as it’s hard to deny it now when I’ve already said he was handsome. I shake my head, biting back a flirty smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he says as his eyes stay on the road, “you agreed to spend the weekend with me.”
“Right.” Giving in with a small laugh, I fight the urge to tease him about how he forced me into this, because I want him to know it means a lot to me for him to take this time for this trip. “I’m actually excited to spend time with you.”
His gaze flicks to me, lingering a fraction too long before he says in a low tone, “Careful what you say. I might take that as an invitation to like you even more.”
Heat blooms in my cheeks, but I manage to roll my eyes for good measure. He takes a turn, pulling into the gates of a private tarmac. My heart skips a beat when he stops in front of a sleek jet that looks like something out of a movie.
“Wow, you seriously weren’t kidding about this spoiling me thing,” I say, blinking up at the plane as he opens my door.
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “You said you didn’t want to run into anyone you know, and this is the safest way to do that.”
I stare at him, and he slants his grin into a bit of a cocky angle I’ve never seen before. Perhaps he’s gaining confidence around me, as he’s always acted rather modestly. As he grabs our bags and walks me to the steps, I can’t help but keep stealing glances at him. It’s like he’s also peeling back a layer he’s never shown me. Perhaps to get me to also trust him? I climb up the stairs and pass through the open door into what is the fanciest plane I’ve ever seen. With rows of leather recliners on each side of the small aisle, I follow the gold trim lights to the first seat and turn to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, settling in the recliner across from me. He has our bags with him. He sets mine in a closet in front but retains his bag as he carries it to his seat. “It’s not any different than any other plane, but the snacks are better, and it’s private but not private. Exactly how you prefer it.”
“And by not, you mean there’s a pilot behind that closed door?”
“And a flight attendant, but she only comes back if I buzz for her. So, it’s private but not.” Before I can come up with a retort, he flips his tray down in front of his seat and reaches into his bag. He removes a wad of snacks and plops them on his tray. My eyes grow wide. There’s everything from candy bars, trail mix,pretzels, and gummy bears packs, and he sorts everything into two equal piles. “You’re not the only one who packed snacks,” he declares with a victorious smile.
“You brought enough for a long trip,” I say. “I thought we were only going somewhere close by.”
