Cage:LMFAO. You have to be joking.
Lake:Sadly… no. I’ve had her in the car and halfway to the shelter to return her, at least a dozen times. But I can’t do it. It pisses me off that she’s so attached to me.
Cage:Are you sure it’s not that you’re so attached to her?
I shook my head.
Lake:I can board my plane. TTYL.
Cage:Safe travels. And, Lake… I remember the kiss. I remember it well.
I floated onto the plane. My head was huge and way up in the clouds. It was a miracle that I even fit onto the aircraft. After tossing my purse onto my seat, I unzipped the front pocket of my carry-on to get my headphones. As I pulled them out, something fell to the ground. An older gentleman, waiting for me to move out of the aisle, bent down and picked it up.
“You dropped this.”
“Thank you.” I looked at it without recognition and stepped back out of his way. It was a blank white notecard, then I flipped it over.
CHAPTER TWO
I shook my head. Flint? Everson? It didn’t make sense. Cage was the only one near my carry-on, but he didn’t have anything to do with the first notecard. It had to be him, yet it couldn’t be him. It was very weird and mysterious. I settled into my seat and for the next twelve hours, and I thought non-stop about the notecards and the missed kiss while listening to some country music I had downloaded at the airport.
CHAPTER NINE
JET LAG
The typical strangerholding a sign with my name on it at the Beijing airport didn’t exist. Instead, I was greeted with the cocky grin I knew too well. His lower teeth were a bit crowded like he didn’t wear his retainer long enough as a boy, but the dirty-blond version of Einstein’s hair and hazel-green eyes made up for that minor imperfection. At nearly six-foot-six, it was impossible to miss Thaddeus Westbrook waiting on the other side of security, grinning like a complete goofball.
“Love!”
I rolled my tired eyes. Early afternoon Beijing time was early morning, aka my bedtime in the States.
“Thrilled to see you didn’t take down the plane with my baby.”
“Shut up.” I released my carry-on and collapsed into his arms. “I’m tired. Hotel. Now.”
“Sorry, love. Jerry awaits. Come, we’ll stop for coffee on the way.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“Yes, yes… tea. Well, you’re in the right place for that.”
“What the hell is with your hand?”
He held his new invention out in front of him as we made our way to baggage claim. “You like?”
“It has eight fingers.”
“Indeed it does. Technology isn’t limited to biological standards. Have you ever heard someone say they needed another hand?”
“They’re fingers, Thad.”
“It’s just an example. Trust me. The ladies love it.”
“You’re a pervert.”
“I’m a gentleman and you know it.”
“It’s not fair. I think women look at amputee men differently than men look at amputee women.”
