17. Kaitlyn
17
KAITLYN
I glanced down at my short floral skirt and t-shirt then back at James.
“Um, you didn’t tell me we were taking your private plane. I’m dressed for margaritas on a patio.”
He placed his hand on my lower back and gave me a gentle push toward the staircase up to the door. “Well, consider this the first of many surprises tonight. And don’t worry about your outfit, that’ll be taken care of too.”
I remained frozen until he slid his hand down my arm and took my hand in his.
“Let’s go.”
It was like he’d ripped a page from the Pretty Woman playbook, driving us to the airfield in yet another sportscar I’d never seen before and parking it in the shadow of the most elegant little airplane I’d ever seen. I mean, the truth was that it was the first private airplane I’d ever encountered in real life, but still. It gleamed in the hot sun, and the attendant waiting at the top of the steps looked like he’d stepped off a billboard.
James finally managed to unstick me from the tarmac with a gentle tug, and we boarded the plane. It was unbelievably sumptuous and had the same vibes as his home, with clean lines and calming creams and grays everywhere.
“ Couches ? You have couches in your plane?” I asked, pointing to them.
“And captain’s chairs as well,” he nodded toward the front of the aircraft. “Where would you feel more comfortable?”
I shrugged, gobsmacked by the idea that this was his everyday life. It didn’t make sense to me, stepping from the car directly to the plane, not having to pass through security or jostle my way through crowded aisles. The way he lived didn’t feel real.
He was still staring at me, so I pointed to the high-backed chairs and we settled in.
“Where are we headed?”
“Just a quick trip to Chicago. I’ve got front row tickets to Hamilton , then we’re going to have dinner at Maple Marina took them all off. And please, I want to do this for you. You’ve been such a miracle worker for Harper.”
I felt myself deflate. Oh. So this was all a thank you for my work. The kiss we’d shared had convinced me otherwise, but I wasn’t about to push it and make things awkward between us.
Marina bustled back into the room before I could say anything and dropped to her knees in front of me with the shoe box.
“Oh, no, I can do it,” I said, backing away. My feet were in desperate need of a pedi, and I was embarrassed to let her see them.
I leaned down and opened the box to find the most exquisite black pumps on the earth, sky high with a dainty strap across the ankle. I stepped into them expecting them to pinch, but the leather was butter soft.
“The finishing touch,” Marina said, handing me a jewelry box.
Inside were black diamond studs, large enough to draw the eye but not big enough to deflect attention from the dress.
“There’s one other thing,” Marina said, beckoning me to follow her into the dressing room. She closed the door behind us. “James buys all of his suits with me, and he’s been a fantastic client, so as a thank you I wanted to give you the right underpinnings for the dress.”
She opened a drawer in the mirrored end table and pulled out a black gossamer lace bra and panties set. “These are for you.”
I was speechless. Now I wouldn’t have to wear my panties from Target under the fabulous dress. Between the two of them, they’d thought of everything.
“You need to get moving,” Marina laughed as I struggled to thank her.
“I… I can’t thank you enough. You’re a genius.”
“Tell him you think so,” she said with a nod toward James as she pulled the door shut behind her and winked.
When James had mentioned a private chef’s table in the kitchen of the restaurant, I’d pictured a stainless steel affair with hard stools, but instead, we were tucked away in a leather booth behind a glass wall in the busy space. We had front row seats to the madness in the room, but we were cocooned away from the noise and bustle of it.
I’d never eaten anything like the meal we were served, and as our delightful private waiter, Darren, cleared away the last of our plates, I let out a contended sigh.
“Happy? Full? Satisfied?” James asked me as I settled back.
“Happy? Yes, incredibly. Full? Beyond, but I left room for dessert.”
“Of course you did,” James laughed. He paused. “What about my last question?”
I’d purposely left it unanswered. Was I satisfied?
No, I absolutely wasn’t, because all I could do was think about the way James looked tonight. He’d changed before we left Armani, from his day suit into a sleek, all-black affair. Black blazer, black shirt, and black slacks that left little to the imagination. When we’d walked into the restaurant, more than a few men turned to look me up and down, but just as many women had swiveled to admire James.
I wasn’t at all satisfied because it was taking everything in my power to keep from jumping on top of him. The few glasses of champagne I’d had weren’t helping me keep myself under control. Everything we said and did was in that lowered-inhibition, sexy, soft focus. When James talked, I found myself staring at his mouth, and when I talked I kept finding excuses to touch him. I wasn’t sure if he hadn’t noticed or if he was just trying to keep things clean while we were in a space that could be observed from 360 degrees.
Darren walked back in just as I contemplated climbing onto James’s lap and saving me from a potentially embarrassing moment.
“Your final course, a kiss of chocolate,” he said, placing the small plates in front of us.
“Could we get spoons?” James asked.
Darren smiled. “That’s the fun of this dish. No utensils, Chef insists that you use your hands to eat it.”
I glanced down at the plate to find that the perfectly round ball of dark chocolate was sitting on a swirl of melted white chocolate. “Fun.”
“You first,” James said, bracing his head on his fist.
I studied the delicacy. There was no way to pick it up without getting the melted white chocolate on my fingers, which was probably deliberate. I used my thumb and pointer finger to grasp it and let my fingertips drag through the white chocolate, then held it to my mouth and slid my tongue across the mess.
James’s breath hitched.
Delicious, both the way he reacted and the way the chocolate tasted. I circled my lips around the ball and bit down, then slowly licked my fingers again. It was the champagne at work, turning me into a confident siren.
“Amazing,” I moaned as I popped the remainder in my mouth.
James didn’t say anything, but the way he shifted uncomfortably spoke volumes.
“Do you need help with yours?” I asked innocently.
He nodded, still watching my lips.
I reached over to his plate and pulled the chocolate through the melted goo slowly, tracing an s-shape across the plate, then held it in front of his mouth.
He parted his lips, and I touched the chocolate to his plush lower lip for an instant before pushing it into his mouth. I started to withdraw but James caught my fingertip in his mouth and gave it a long suck, curling his tongue around the length of it.
My stomach fluttered at the heat. I knew exactly what his tongue could do. Our eyes met.
“Didn’t want to waste any of that chocolate,” he said in a low voice, sending a shiver through me.
How were we going to make it through the show?