Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Eden
“Now boarding first class,” the attendant calls out of the speaker. Foster stands, slides his backpack, the only luggage we have with us, over his shoulder, and offers me his hand.
“First class?” I ask, placing my hand in his and allowing him to pull me to my feet.
“Yeah, I didn’t have time to charter a private plane, and I wanted this to be the best experience possible for your first flight.” He shrugs.
“A private plane! Foster!”
He chuckles. “I didn’t do it,” he says, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me toward the doors that lead us to the plane.
I’ve never flown, so I don’t know what it’s called.
A door at the gate, maybe? Either way, I’m about to step foot onto an airplane for the first time, and my nerves are wrecked.
“I’m right here,” he says, bending so that he’s whispering in my ear as we walk through the small tunnel, or hallway, whatever this little walkway is called.
“You can’t keep the plane from falling out of the sky, Foster,” I tell him.
The lady in front of me turns and gives me a death glare.
“I’m sorry. I’m nervous. This is my first time flying,” I ramble on.
She nods, gives me a sort of half smile, and turns back around, continuing down the ramp, and I clamp my mouth shut.
“Welcome aboard,” a friendly flight attendant greets us as we step onto the plane.
“Second row on your right.” Foster leads me to our seats.
“Do you want the window or the aisle?” he asks.
The attendant doesn’t seem to recognize Foster, which is a good thing.
I don’t need people taking pictures of me freaking out.
Maybe the glasses and the hat work for him as a disguise, or maybe the flight attendant and everyone on this flight and in the airport are not Rampage fans.
I mean, I’ve lived in this town my entire life and never saw him before. I guess it’s possible.
“Um, I don’t know,” I finally answer, pulling myself out of my thoughts.
“You take the window, and we can pull the shade if you don’t want to look out. If we need to switch, we can. It’s a short two-hour flight. It will be over before you know it,” he assures me.
I feel like such a baby, but I can’t help it. The fear is real.
I take the window seat as instructed, and Foster shoves his duffel beneath the seat before helping me fasten my seat belt.
I went to the bathroom right before they announced our boarding because I don’t want to have to get up until we’ve landed.
“Thank you,” I whisper, as he double-checks my seat belt.
“Are you excited?” he asks, sitting back in his seat and turning his head to face me.
“I’m excited, but also nervous. Thank you for this, Foster.”
He leans over and presses his lips to my temple, and something inside me stills. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. We understand one another in a way I’ve never experienced before. Neither one of us feels the need to fill the silence, to explain ourselves.
I’m used to being looked at but not really seen.
To show others only what I want them to see, as a way to protect myself.
I only give them as little or as much as I’m willing to give.
With him, it feels different. As if he recognizes the parts of me I’ve never learned how to articulate.
The parts that I keep hidden for fear of rejection.
I’ve never cared about that with Foster.
The quiet doubts and careful hopes I keep tucked away because they’ve never felt safe to share… I share them with him.
The understanding between us isn’t loud or overwhelming.
It’s steady. It tells me I don’t have to shrink or sharpen myself to be understood.
I can just be here, exactly as I am, and that is enough.
The realization is almost unsettling at how unfamiliar it feels to be met without resistance, without explanation.
To just be me.
Even when I’m freaking out, he’s steady, and the only steady I’ve ever had in my life is my best friend, Carrie.
However, with each passing day, he shows me that I can add another name to that list. The man sitting next to me offers me that comfort and reassurance, and I know with everything that I am that I’ve completely fallen headfirst for him.
I also know that I can’t expect him to return those feelings.
I know he cares, and he’s such a nice guy, but my feelings for him are way past caring and friendship.
He’s wormed his way inside my chest, inside my heart that I thought I had locked down.
No, I know it was locked down. I guess it’s just that Foster Vaughn was the only one with the key.
Once everyone is seated, the flight attendant goes through safety procedures, and with each word she says, my heart thumps a little harder.
Finally, she wishes us a safe flight, and the plane begins to move.
My hands grip the armrests of the seat, and I close my eyes.
Chatter is all around us, but I block it out and focus on breathing.
“Eden.” Foster’s low, deep timbre rumbles against my ear.
I shake my head because I don’t want to open my eyes. I want to forget that I’m about to be in the sky in this tin can.
“Baby,” he whispers, and damn him, but I have no choice but to open my eyes, because I need to see the reverence in his tone, which is displayed on his face, as well. “There she is.” He smiles softly. Reaching over, he cradles my cheek. “I’m right here,” he says, his voice so low, I almost miss it.
“Two hours,” I say, more as a reminder to myself. I can do this. It’s only two hours.
“What can I do?” he asks, his thumb sliding over my cheek. I don’t reply because I don’t think there is anything that can help me right now. However, when he leans over and presses his lips to mine, everything changes.
My mind shuts down.
It’s just the two of us, and I no longer care that I’m about to be flying through the air in a tin can at high rates of speed.
I’m consumed with him and his kiss. The way his tongue licks at my lips before sliding against my own.
He groans into my mouth, and I want to bottle the sound.
I lose all track of time; hell, I’m not even sure I know my own name if someone were to ask.
All I know his him and how safe he makes me feel.
As he slows the kiss, I start to float back to reality. His forehead rests against mine, our breath mingling. “I’ve got you, Eden,” he rasps, and damn this man and the things he does to my heart.
He pulls away and settles back into his seat.
“Are we in the air?”
He winks. “We are.” Reaching under the seat, he pulls out his backpack and digs around inside, pulling out my new Kindle and handing it to me. “Get lost in a story. We’ll be there before you know it.” Grabbing his iPad, he pulls up Solitaire and begins playing.
Drawing in a deep breath, I open my Kindle, choose a book, I downloaded with my hotspot, and start to read. Thankfully, I’m able to get lost in the story. It helps that every so often, Foster reaches over and gives my thigh, my knee, or my arm a soft squeeze, just to let me know he’s there.
When the pilot announces that we’re landing, I tense up, but Foster notices, and he once again kisses me senseless, and I don’t even take notice of the landing.
Once we’re off the plane and have obtained our rental car, we head to our hotel, which is literally on the beach.
The warm Florida sun shines down on us, much different from the spring weather we’re used to in Tennessee.
“Thank you for helping me through that. Thank you for this trip. Thank you for being you, Foster Vaughn. You’ve changed my life in ways you’ll never know.”
“Aww, birthday girl, are you getting sentimental on me?” he teases.
“Must be the flying.” I chuckle.
Reaching over the console, he laces his fingers with mine. “I’m glad you’re here, Eden.”
“Me, too,” I agree, as I turn to look out the window, enjoying the view as we drive to Clearwater Beach.
“Wow, this is massive. We didn’t need a three-bedroom suite,” I tell Foster, as I take in our room on the top floor of the hotel.
“Well, this one was the only room left that faces the ocean, and I wanted you to have that experience.” He places his backpack on the kitchen table—yes, a kitchen table and a full kitchen in a hotel!
“Come with me.” He holds out his hand, and I don’t hesitate to place mine in his as we tour the suite.
“And this,” he says, “is the best part.” Letting go of my hand, he pulls open the living room curtains to reveal a patio door and a small patio.
“Wow. That’s…” My voice trails off as I step closer to the door, peering outside. “The water is so blue,” I breathe. “It goes on for miles. It’s better than I ever could have imagined that it would be.”
“Good,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “You want to go out on the balcony?”
“We’re on the top floor.”
He chuckles. “I know that, but it’s safe. There’s a railing, and we won’t get close to the edge. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
“You promise you won’t let go?” I ask, turning to look at him over my shoulder.
Bending, he kisses the tip of my nose. “I won’t let go, Eden. I promise.”
I know what he’s saying—he’s not going to let go of me while we’re out on the balcony—but my heart, that poor organ inside my chest that’s head over heels for this man, kicks into overdrive, beating faster.
But not because of my fear of heights, but because he promised never to let me go.
Different context, I’m aware, but my heart apparently has a mind of its own.
“Open it. My hands are full of precious cargo,” he says, and I relax into him as a laugh slips free from my lips. I slide it open, and together, we step cautiously out onto the patio of our top-floor hotel room and look out at the ocean.
My breath stalls in my lungs at the vision before me.