Page 20 of On The Edge

Maybe he’s accepted this whole idea when clearly, he was still fighting it yesterday.

Maybe this will be easier than I thought. We can act out this charade, convince the board he’s reformed and be over with it sooner rather than later. Then, I’ll be on my merry way.

But as for now, my head is swimming with thoughts as Cruz, Cashmere Sweater, and another woman who has emerged from the back behind Cruz all stand there and stare at me in expectation.

I lift my hand. “Yes. Yeah. That’s me.” Oh my God. I couldn’t sound any more like an awkward teenager if I tried.

“Luggage?” Cruz asks as he takes a sip of the water bottle in his hand.

“The . . . whoever took it from me before I boarded,” I say as Cashmere Sweater moves toward me and takes my carry-on from me, ushering me to my seat.

“I’m Mellie,” she says. “I’ll be assisting you on the flight today. And you’re Maddix? Cruz’s . . .”

“What exactly are you, Madds?” Cruz asks, amusement tinging his tone and those eyes of his glistening with humor, as he slides into one of the plush seats and motions for me to do the same.

I work a swallow, hating this feeling like I’m the butt of an inside joke that everyone knows but me.

“Give the poor girl a break,” the woman whose hand was on Cruz says as she moves forward. She’s even more gorgeous than Mellie with legs a mile long and sun-kissed skin that would make anyone jealous. She steps beside Cruz, her hand casually going to his shoulder—again—before leaning down and murmuring something in his ear.

They both chuckle and when he looks up at her, he also places his hand on hers. “Not today, Lola.”

Her smile is as sultry as her laugh. “Why, Cruz Navarro, are you turning me down?”

Their eyes meet and he nods once. “In fact, I am.”

“Ouch,” she says, dramatically snatching her hand back from his shoulder, before taking a few steps toward the cockpit. She winks. “You’ll be back.”

His chuckle is loud and telling. You’ll be back. Right. Sounds like this plane has seen a lot of miles . . . in the mile high club. A club I most definitely won’t be joining. Especially given Legs A Mile Long Lola has clearly traversed with Cruz before. “Never say never, right?”

Guess I was wrong about him willingly selling this whole relationship thing. Saying shit like that tells me he most definitely isn’t.

Wonderful.

“Hope not.” Lola stops before me and holds out her hand. “Lola Macias. I’ll be your captain today.” Captain? “I promise to try and keep the turbulence to a minimum. Besides, this guy causes enough turbulence as it is when you’re with him.”

“But . . .” I’m not with him. I smile softly and shake her hand. “I’ve been warned.”

“That you have. Us women need to stick together.” She winks, glances back at Cruz, and just shakes her head. “We should be cleared and ready for takeoff shortly.”

“Thank you.” I watch her walk toward the cockpit and through the open door, see her take a seat before beginning to flip switches with confidence and authority.

“You can take a seat,” Cruz says as Mellie busies herself near the back of the plane. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Oh yes. I should. Okay,” I say, suddenly flustered now that it’s just me and him and a whole hell of a lot of time on our hands before we land in . . . wherever it is we’re going.

“Do you always answer in threes?”

“What? No. I don’t think so.” His grin widens as I realize I just proved him right. “Only when I’m nervous.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “And I make you nervous?”

I shrug. “This whole thing does.”

He tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, and eyes running up and down the length of me. They assess and scrutinize and make me aware of his calf resting so very close to mine beneath the table separating us. “Why?”

I snort. “For obvious reasons.” I fasten the seatbelt over my lap and double-check its tightness. Anything to avoid the look in Cruz’s eyes.

“I see,” he murmurs as the jet begins to move.