“Dallas,” the pilot says with a grin.
Dallas?
“As in Texas?”
He chuckles and straps himself in, flicking a bunch of buttons. The propellers are almost as loud as the blood rushing in my ears. Is this really happening?
As the helicopter lifts, I look back at the hired car that brought me here, still parked to the side of the tarmac, watching us take off. I strongly consider getting out and asking the driver to take me back home, but I stay frozen in my seat. The ground drops away beneath us, lights shrinking, and I dig my nails into the palms of my hands hard enough to hurt.
The helicopter eats up the miles faster than I can process them. The view is unreal. The sun bleeding into the horizon, the world falling away in pinks and golds, but I barely notice. My head is too full of so many questions and doubts. Even more than that, Jesse’s smile is burned behind my eyelids.
By the time the pilot’s voice crackles through my headset, I’m wound so tight my shoulders ache. “We’ll be descending soon.”
I glance out the window. Below, a city unfurls in sprawling, twinkling lights. We circle a tall, glassy skyscraper, sleek lines glinting in the dusk. At the very top, tiny figures cluster near a glowing helipad.
As we draw closer, I make out Jesse’s two bodyguards, and Jesse himself. My chest constricts.
Wind whips his hair into chaos, strands flashing silver under the floodlights. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black button-down, several buttons undone, pale chest and inked skin catching in the glow. My mouth goes dry, heat crawling up the back of my neck. I shift in my seat, restless, as the skids touch down.
The door swings open. One of the bodyguards jogs over and opens my door, steadying me with a firm hand as I step out. We duck under the thundering blades together, and then suddenly I’m standing in front of him.
Jesse.
Time seems to slow, every sound muffled under the rush of blood in my ears. He steps forward without hesitation and catches my hand in his, fingers warm, grip sure. His smile is blinding, so bright it knocks the air out of me.
I blink, dazed, and without giving myself permission, I’m smiling back. I can’t help it. Despite every reservation, every warning siren in my head, there’s something about him that draws me in.
Jesse leads me off the roof and to an elevator while I stare at the way he holds my hand so casually. The ride is short, maybea floor or two, but my chest is pounding like we’re scaling the whole damn building. The elevator is permeated with the sweet, spicy smell of him.
The doors slide open to a gleaming marble foyer, recessed lights washing the walls in a warm glow. A huge abstract painting dominates one wall, all jagged shapes and fiery streaks of red. My shoes squeak faintly on the polished stone, the sound weirdly loud in the hush.
He guides me into a living space that looks like something out of a magazine. The room stretches two stories tall, floor-to-ceiling windows looking down on a dazzling display of city lights at night. A massive fireplace stands in the center, detached like an art piece, flames flickering low and steady. Candles burn everywhere, soft points of light giving the room an ethereal, romantic glow.
A plush sectional faces the hearth, and on the glass coffee table sits a glass bowl of what looks like candy wrapped in red cellophane, and a vase of flowers–the same red and yellow blooms from the car, their edges glowing like the fire behind them. On the other side of the fireplace, a formal dining area is half-hidden in shadow. To the side, a sleek black wet bar gleams, and something that is either a very uncomfortable-looking stone chair or a sculpture holds a row of candles too.
What grabs my attention is the small table set for two right in front of the windows. Candlelight pools around polished silver, the city glittering behind it like another world.
I stop dead. My heart skips, then stutters into a strange, fast rhythm.Definitely a date then, if I had any lingering doubts.
Jesse is watching me, waiting for a reaction. When I can’t quite get my brain online fast enough to process the last several hours, he steps in front of me.
“Is it too much?”
“It’s…” I swallow hard. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. It seems like a lot.”
He grimaces. “I knew it was too much as soon as Randall called me to say you’d gotten on the chopper. He said you looked terrified.”
“Terrified is a bit of an exaggeration.”Terrified isn’t strong enough of a word.
Jesse huffs out a laugh like he knows I’m full of shit. “I really hope I haven’t scared you off or anything. I know I can be a lot. I get these little ideas and just kind of–go.” He throws up his hands a little with the last word, then grimaces again. “Please don’t run away.” His tone is playful, like he’s joking, but the worry in his bright green eyes is real.
“What was the original plan?” I ask with an awkward laugh.
“Well, originally I wanted to come to you and take you somewhere in Shreveport. I rented out a botanical garden and had a catering company set up a table in one of the greenhouses. Right next to those,” he says, pointing at the red and yellow flowers.
“That’s the same flower that was in the car, right?”
“It’s called a flame lily. Anything that looks like fire reminds me of you.”
