Page 87 of Final Exit

Someone cleared their throat.

Someone else laughed.

Kade broke the kiss and told them to knock it off.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked. “You barely noticed when the plane took off, am I right?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked past him, shocked to see that they were indeed in the air, flying, not dying. Barely noticed? She hadn’t noticed at all.

“You kissed me to distract me,” she accused.

“Yep.”

She should have been mad. Instead, she smiled. “It worked. Want to distract me again?”

He gave her a pained look and adjusted his position in his seat. “More than you could possibly imagine.”

She grinned again. Maybe she’d finally discovered the way to get through her fear of flying. No, make that just the landings. Really, that’s what killed—landing. The takeoff was just the precursor that got her nervous for the next part. Kade just might have to pull her onto his lap and do some heavy petting to get her through that next phase. Thinking about that made her laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Was it a rough flight, that last one, with your parents when you flew home to Montana after your vacation? Do you think that’s why you associate their deaths with planes?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Because Icare.People who care about each other share personal details about their lives. I forgot that before. I won’t forget again.”

The truth was in his eyes, in the intensity of his gaze locked onto hers. He cared. Abouther. How long had it been since anyone hadreallycared? Too long. That had to be why she was so susceptible to him. He was too sweet, too good-looking, too charming, too smart, too... everything.

After years of keeping people at a distance, she’d grown used to them not even trying to get past the wall she’d put up. Even Hawke had never asked her about her past, offered to hold her hand during takeoff. If he had, she probably would have punched him, or ended the friendship. And that’s exactly what it had been with Hawke, friendship. But Kade... Kade was... something else.

He settled against the back of his chair, eyes closing. He didn’t push her to answer him. He just accepted that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, and didn’t get mad about it. Didn’t press. He accepted her. Like no one else ever had. They still hadn’t talked about the warehouse. There’d been no apology from her—and she sure as hell owed him one now that she’d calmed down enough to put everything into perspective. And yet, she had a feeling he’d never expect one. And wouldn’t hold it against her either. She’d never met anyone like him. And wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Why?” she whispered.

His eyes cracked open like a sleepy cat. “Why what?”

“Why do you care? About me? I don’t understand it.”

She had his full attention now.

“I know I’m pretty,” she said.

“And modest,” he added.

“Whatever.” She waved her hand in the air. “I’ve got the hair, the boobs, a smokin’ ass.”

“I’m not arguing with you there.” He grinned.

“I’m just saying, is it... physical? Is that all there is? Is that why you flirt with me and treat me so nice even though I don’t deserve it?”

He started to say something, but she pressed a finger against his lips to stop him. “I’m serious, Kade. I’m not a froufrou girl. I don’t wear frilly dresses or put on a lot of makeup. I don’t go to church on Sunday, even though my parents would probably roll over in their graves if they knew that. I’m not easy to get along with. Sometimes, most of the times, I’m rude or downright mean. I’m prickly, and ornery, and selfish, and—”

He drew her finger into his mouth, making her breath catch. He lightly sucked, before kissing her finger and pulling her hand down from his face.

“You about done?” he asked.