Not of the plane.
Not of the money.
Not even of going back to New Jersey.
I’m scared because I’m falling for a man I don’t fully understand.
He’s quiet and brooding and built like a Greek god carved from pine and sin.
He works like a beast, fights like a bear, and makes love to me like I’m the most sacred thing he’s ever touched.
And now? Now there’s this other version of him.
This man who can make a single phone call and get us on a jet.
A man who calls in favors from friends with expensive tools and says things like “whatever it costs.”
And it makes me wonder—what else don’t I know?
“Stop thinking so loud,” he murmurs as the wind kicks up around us. “You’re doing that thing again. The thing where you talk yourself out of being okay.”
I blink at him, stunned by how well he’s come to know me.
Then he leans down, his lips brushing mine in a soft, anchoring kiss.
It’s hungry. Possessive.
But more than that?It’s home.
I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?” he repeats.
I nod. “Just, don’t let go of my hand.”
He squeezes my fingers like a vow. “Never.”
And just like that, I take the step.
Onto the plane. Into the unknown.
With him.
Still nervous. Still spinning.
But—for the first time in years—I don’t feel alone.
“You know I don’t usually make trips like this without some damn warning,” Greyson Cole grumbles from the cockpit, adjusting a headset as he prepares the flight plan.
I’m still too stunned to be afraid. I’ve never been on a small plane.
I’m not sure if I’m more scared of the takeoff or of what’s waiting for me when we land.
“You’re charging me enough to make up for it,” Thatcher quips, slipping his arm around my waist.
I grab his hand automatically.
