They took their seats across from each other. The jet taxied, then took off.
As they smoothed into altitude, Gage removed his jacket and pushed his sleeves up, the movement drawing her eyes to his forearms, the glint of his watch.
He turned. Traced her face with his eyes.
“Have I smudged something?” she asked, half joking.
“No. I just haven’t had you to myself in days.”
Her chest tightened. She’d been in study and exam mode for the week. He’d been under the pump at work. Their schedules had kept overlapping.
Macy passed by with a tray, offering Bea a glass of sparkling water with lime. Remembered, from the first time they’d flown together. Gage took one also.
“The call button is there if you need us,” Macy said with a smile. “Otherwise, lunch will be served at twelve.”
Bea watched her disappear behind a partition at the rear of the plane, closing the door softly behind her.
Which meant the entire center of the cabin was theirs.
“Where are we stopping over?” she asked, facing Gage.
“Nevada. Faster for private planes,” he replied.
Bea reached forward into her bag, and pulled out a novel.
His brow quirked. “Is that what you plan to do for sixteen hours?”
She gave him a look. “I thought you’d have work.”
“Not that much.”
“Oh.” Her fingers brushed the edge of her book. “What do you want to do?”
He unbuckled his seatbelt. Stood. Crossed the aisle. Sat beside her.
Their knees touched. Her pulse jumped.
He wasn’t even speaking. But she’d learned to understand him so well that even his silences had tone.
They were on a plane. She’d just seen Macy disappear behind a door she wasn’t even sure was soundproof, with two guards who probably had military-grade hearing.
She shifted slightly in her seat. Not away. Just enough to try to breathe like a normal human.
Gently, he took the book from her fingers.
“You’re not going to let me read, are you?”
“Not when we have two hours before she comes back.”
Which meant she had to be very careful. Because he hadn’t touched her in days, and she had a feeling her body had missed the memo about dignity.
Gage wasn’t the type to make a scene. But if he decided he wanted to…Macy and the guards were going to get the soundtrack.
They landed at Heathrow mid-afternoon, into cloudy skies and greyscale light. A black Bentley waited on the tarmac. One of his security guys opened the door. Bea slid in, followed by Gage.
The car pulled out in silence, as a couple of idle raindrops began trailing down the windows. The city unfurled around them: brick terraces with flower boxes, red double-decker buses, cabs like oddly shaped ink blots in traffic.
Bea stared out the window, heart open wide. It was just as chaotic, just as iconic, as she’d expected.
