Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Ready?” he asks as he slides into the leather seat beside me.
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I nod. “As I’ll ever be.”
He shuts the door behind us, sharp and decisive, before calling through the tinted partition between us and the driver, “To the airport, please.”
As the car pulls away, I resist the urge to look back at the café.
At my old life.
Instead, I look forward. Toward whatever comes next.
After all, when one is potentially walking straight into a shit storm, it’s best to keep an eye out for…shit.
Hunter
The plane sits on the tarmac, its engines idling as we wait for clearance to takeoff. Elaina’s gone quiet since we boarded, her usual bubbly fire replaced by something that looks suspiciously like anxiety.
Or terror…
It seems the reality of what we’re doing is hitting my fake fiancé as hard as it hit me last night, when I woke up in a cold sweat wondering what the fuck I was going to do if Elaina was already pregnant.
But I did what I do best: I stepped back, looked at the situation from a dispassionate distance, decided the plan was still solid and an emotional reaction was a waste of energy, and went back to sleep. I know how to handle myself in high-stress situations. Hopefully, Elaina does, too.
If not, I may be sending her back to Sea Breeze on this very plane far sooner than expected.
No matter what our contract says, if she decides she wants out, she’s out. I’m not going to force a woman to stay with me, no matter what kind of legal documents we’ve signed.
I check my watch again, more out of habit than necessity. We’re right on schedule, which means in just over an hour, we’ll be landing in New York. Then, headed to my apartment, where Elaina will be sleeping in my bed tonight and every night until we get pregnant or my mother passes…
The thought stirs things low in my body, while that primal part of me that came out to play last night in the lifeguard stand growls in approval. Breeding kink or something more disturbing, I can’t deny I’m looking forward to taking her bare again more than I’ve looked forward to anything in a very long time.
Elaina gulps, her grip tightening on the arms of the leather seat as the plane begins to taxi.
“First time on a smaller plane?” I ask, wondering if that’s the reason for her fear, not the fact that she’s about to put her fate in the hands of a man she barely knows.
She turns from the window, and I’m struck by how pale she’s become. “First time on any plane at all in about sixteen years. I flew to visit my great aunt in Chicago when I was ten. That’s it.” She attempts a smile that morphs into a grimace. “The girls and I have been saving up for a trip to Iceland, so I haven’t had extra money for flying places, and it’s…”
“Scarier than you remembered?” I supply.
She nods and gulps again, her lips pressing together as we turn the corner onto the runway. “Oh God, we’re going to die. We’re totally going to die and Captain Crunchypants is going to be an orphan.”
“We’re not going to die, hold my hand,” I say, uncurling my fingers.
“I’m not sure holding hands is going to help when we’re rolling the dice on this thing zooming fast enough to launch itself into the sky before we crash into the sea.” But she takes my hand, squeezing it tight.
I smile. “That’s not exactly how jet engines work.”
She winces, pressing back against the headrest as we start to accelerate down the tarmac. “Then explain it to me, Smart Guy. Distract me with science.”
So, I do, raising my voice to be heard as the engines roar louder. “The basic principle involves four forces: lift, weight, drag, and thrust. The engines provide thrust, pushing us forward, while the shape of the—”
“Thrust, huh?” She interrupts, her voice higher-than-usual. “Is that your answer to everything?”
I squeeze her hand tighter. “Are you complaining about my thrust?”
“No, I love your thrust, I just—” She cuts off with a gasp as the nose lifts. Her nails dig into my palm hard enough to sting as we climb higher, the pressure pushing us back in our seats.
“The steeper angle helps us achieve lift faster,” I explain, letting her maim my hand while keeping my tone as calm and steady as possible. “Think of it like swimming. The harder you push against the water—”
“I get it, I get it. Physics. Great. Are we almost done with the scary part?”
“Almost.” I run my thumb over her white knuckles. “Another thirty seconds or so.”
She nods, squeezing her eyes shut as the plane continues to climb.
When we finally level out, she lets out a long breath but doesn’t release my hand. “We’re alive. I’m so glad,” she murmurs, shooting me a look of such joyous wonder that I can’t help but laugh.