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He leans in and whispers in my ear, “The flight attendant hasn’t stopped watching us together.”
I understand. We’re not alone.The show must go on.
I slide my arms around him and rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat rapidly thumps; it’s faster than average.
I pull away to meet his eyes and don’t realize how close I am, but I can’t find the strength to create space. He doesn’t either.
“You good?” I whisper, searching his eyes.
He tucks loose hair behind my ear. “Better than ever.”
“Your heart is racing.”
“I have a secret,” he says. “Ihateflying.”
For a brief second, I see a sliver of this man’s vulnerable side.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” I whisper, moving back into position.
Easton places his arms around me, holding me tighter against him. The smell of him nearly tugs me under—mahogany with a hint of mint.
He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger as I listen to him inhale and exhale slowly. The real him, the man he hides under designer suits, hates crowds and flying and frequently does both. I don’t envy the money and what he sacrifices by having it.
“You smell good,” I whisper, smiling. He encapsulates me.
“You do too,” he says back.
His heart rate eventually slows, and when I nuzzle into his chest, he relaxes. I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what Remi said. I think about my dad and if he’d have liked Easton or what he’d have said after meeting him. He always told me to find a man who appreciated vintage cars because they were the ones who still opened doors for ladies.
He was right.
My eyes grow heavy, and it doesn’t take long before I drift off as we soar through the sky like a bullet.
“Lexi,” I hear Easton say, lightly brushing his fingertips against the outside of my arm.
“Mmm?” For a moment, I’m not sure where I am.
“We’re about to land,” he mutters in a gruff tone.
I sit up, rolling my neck on my shoulders, feeling stiff.
Easton yawns and I lift the window shade. It’s still dark outside, and my mouth falls open as we descend.
The moonlight illuminates the snowcaps at the top of the tall peaks.
“Are those mountains?”
“I love seeing your excitement,” he says as we touch down into a valley.
We taxi to a private hangar, the flight attendant helps us deboard, and a blacked-out car waits. It’s the middle of June, but there’s briskness in the air.
Our suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, and then we leave. The windows are dark, so I can’t see through them, and I wonder if that’s by design. Maybe I won’t be able to ruin his surprise.
Easton leans his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I take the opportunity to study how fucking beautiful he is.
His eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and I feel like I’m locked in place, frozen in time, knowing he caught me. Neither of us says a word as we hold a silent conversation, and I’m glad he can’t hearmyheartbeat right now.
“We’re almost there,” he says.