Reagan settles in the airplane seat next to me. One of the perks of traveling with me—first-class travel. Even if it’s for business and to meet with the contractor who blew Reagan off the first time.
“I haven’t.” A flight attendant hands us each a drink. “It was something I wanted to do when I came down here.”
“What else did you want to do when you came down here?”
Reagan sips on her juice. “Snorkel in the Great Barrier Reef, go to wine country. Maybe go to a tropical island. See Ayers Rock—”
“Uluru,” I interrupt. She rolls her eyes at me. I don’t know what it is, but I love getting under her skin.
“Fine. Uluru.” The safety announcement starts playing overhead. Reagan settles back into her seat, turning her deep brown eyes on me. “Skydiving. Bungee jumping. Things that I can no longer do.” My eyes drift to her stomach. She’s not really showing, but I can see a small change. Something I never thought I’d notice before.
“Sorry, Rae.” The nickname slips off my tongue easily, but I like the sound of it. I also like getting to be close to her like this. “There’s still plenty to do, even if you can’t throw yourself out of a plane.”
“Sounds like you don’t like skydiving.” She quirks her lips up at me.
“I don’t know why anyone would want to jump out of a perfectly good plane.” I shiver. If there’s one thing I never want to do in my life, it’s jump out of a plane.
“Interesting.”
“Why is that interesting?” The plane starts rolling down the runway.
“You seem like someone who isn’t scared of anything.”
“Trust me, Reagan, I have my fears.” Like being a father. Like screwing up just like my parents did. That my kid will end up hating me when they’re my age because I don’t have the first idea on how to raise a kid.
“Tell me your biggest one.” There’s no joking in her voice as she fixes her gaze on me. I hate how her eyes make me feel. Like they are seeing the real me. Not the hotshot persona that I present to the world.
“Promise you won’t judge me?”
She holds her hands up. “No judgment.”
I blow out a breath. “Becoming a dad.”
Reagan grabs my hand. “You’re not alone.”
“You’re scared of becoming a dad too?” I try to add some levity to the moment, it getting too heavy for my liking.
“Becoming a parent.” She squeezes my hand, letting me know it’s okay to be honest. “The very last thing I expected when I came down here was to get pregnant by a guy I barely knew. And yet, here we are.”
“How’d your parents take the news?”
“Not as bad as I expected. I’m thirty-three. I can take care of a baby. They just thought I’d be settled down and married when I had kids.”
“And they probably never thought it’d be with your boss.”
Reagan smiles. “Yeah, didn’t think that would ever happen.”
“In your defence, I technically wasn’t your boss that night.”
Reagan leans in closer, her sweet scent overwhelming me. Just like it did that night. “It’s a good thing you weren’t my boss, because a lot of the things we did would be considered inappropriate.”
Reagan’s hand leaves my arm. Fuck. That small smile pulling at her lips tells me she knows what she did. Thank God for tray tables because I’m hard just thinking about that night and of all the things we did that would be considered inappropriate.
Reagan
I knew exactlywhat I was doing. I know I shouldn’t, but egging Leo on is easy. I could see the uncomfortable way he squirmed in his seat. The way the tray table hid the situation in his pants.
But I can’t help it. Because ever since I entered my second trimester, everything Leo does turns me on. Handing me project notes? I can’t help but look at his hands and want them all over me. The drawl of that Australian accent? I want to hear it whisper sweet nothings into my ear.
