Chapter 26
Chapter
It’s one thing to know that my brother travels in five-star luxury. It’s another to plant my ass in one of the cushy leather seats and eye a silver champagne bucket beside my armrest.
“I mean, I guess this is a step up from the Cessna.”
George snorts as he leans against the seat across the aisle from the one I’m reclining in.
He seems extra tall in the aisle of the jet.
There aren’t any flights for the company executives today, so he offered to give me a tour after we’d finished our flight lesson.
Ever since I found out this is what George does for the company, I’ve wanted to get a peek inside one of the cockpits.
Exploring the main cabin is a bonus.
“Is there usually a flight attendant?” Seems a little overkill to me.
But that might as well be the BBN motto.
“When they’re flying customers, yeah. If it’s just Shawn and some other executives, they do self-serve.”
“Wow.” I smirk up at the pilot. “That must be so hard for them.”
“Excruciating.” His voice stays serious, but his eyes hold laughter. “Shawn is always trying to get my copilot to trade seats with him.”
That has me feigning horror. “Please tell me you never let him within arm’s reach of the controls.”
“Fuck no. He’d panic the minute he glimpsed out the windshield.” George steps forward and leans down, grasping the armrests of my chair so he’s nose to nose with me. Caging me in. “But you can touch anything you want to.”
A shiver travels down my spine, and little pleasure pulses tease between my legs.
This is new. The blatant flirting.
But we both said we didn’t want to forget what happened. Which means something is happening.
And I guess I’m okay with seeing where it goes.
“That’s a mighty generous offer.” I flatten my palms on George’s chest, feeling his warm skin through the material of his T-shirt.
His breath catches and his eyes heat as I drag my touch up higher.
Then I give him a playful shove so I can stand up and skip to the front of the plane. “I want to fondle all the instruments.”
He huffs a strained laugh and follows me.
The cockpit of a Gulfstream G650 is very different from a single-engine plane. Even an inexperienced person would be able to see that at a glance.
For one, there’s no six-pack. Everything is screens, with what seem like hundreds of switches and buttons.
Makes sense, though, seeing as how there’s more than one engine and they’re turbine as opposed to piston.
There are more systems needing controls, such as landing gear, plus creature comforts like air-conditioning.
“Is this the end goal?” George waves at the cockpit around us. “You want to fly jets?”
“I don’t know.” My fingers trace around the buttons, tempted to press but not wanting to mess up anything. “I haven’t thought much past getting my private pilot’s license. Even that still seems like a dream.”
“It’s a reality. You’re going to get it.” His confident words warm my chest. “Only question then is, do you want to make this a career or keep it a hobby?”
That is a question. I think of George’s job. Flying around the one percenters of the world.
A frown curves my mouth unbidden.
“What’s up?” He leans toward me, eyes flicking from my lips to my eyes, concern in his.
“I’d rather not say. It’s kind of insulting.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Don’t hold back on my account.”
That hint of a smile threatens to distract me. “Fine. I think I would like to make this my career. But not this.” I wave at the controls and then back at the luxurious cabin.
One of his eyebrows pops up, and I try to explain better.
“BBN”—aka Karl Newton—“was really shitty to my mom. Like, threatened-to-sue-her-if-she-talked-about-the-affair shitty.” Which, as far as I’m aware, Mom never claimed she would do.
But I guess that’s Karl’s way: threaten first, be decent to the woman he got pregnant never.
“The whole billion-dollar business population gives me hives. I wouldn’t enjoy flying if I knew that was who I was transporting. ”
At some point during my explanation, my eyes wandered toward the windshield, where the sun is setting just over the trees, turning the clouds a custard orange. When I glance back at George, I pause in astonishment, transfixed by the pure fury on his face.
Was I really that insulting?
“I’m sorr—”
“They sued your mother?” He grinds out the words through a tightly clenched jaw.
Oh, okay. That’s what he’s pissed about?
“Threatened to,” I repeat. “She didn’t want to make the pregnancy a thing, either. But that didn’t stop them from pushing her out the door and threatening legal action if she ever spoke a word to the press. It was twenty-five years ago. There were less protections in place for female employees.”
“That’s…” George drags both his hands over his skull in a rough gesture, breathing out what sounds like a growl. Then he stares out the windshield like I was just doing, his gaze unfocused and his jaw clenching repeatedly like he’s chewing on his anger.
I let him process the unjust world in silence. Maybe he’s wondering if his father was in on the gag order.
“How did Shawn even know about you?” George asks eventually. Quietly.
“Ah. Yeah.” I brush my thumb over the yoke as I remember that massive shift in my life. “That was his mom.”
“Meg Newton? She told him about you?”
“More than told. She asked my mom if Shawn could meet me.” My hands continue their idle wandering, fingers tracing over the stitching on the leather seat.
“I don’t know if she was in a fight with Karl.
Or maybe seeing a new therapist. Or maybe she just wanted Shawn to stop bugging her about having a sibling.
” I shrug. “For whatever reason, when I was five, Mom took me to this playground halfway to the city, and that’s when I met him. ”
I can still remember sitting on a swing, Mom pushing me gently, when a shiny car pulled up beside our rusty one.
A beautiful blond woman slipped out of the front seat, walked around to the back, opened the door, and let out a red-haired boy.
He reminded me of a rocket ship the way he burst from the car, ready to shoot off to the moon.
“Where is she?” I’d heard him ask the beautiful woman. She glanced around the park until her sunglasses aimed toward my mom and me.
And she pointed.
The rocket boy took off, sprinting our way, his arms pumping, his cheeks flushed, his eyes locked on me.
Mom paused pushing my swing, and I settled to a stop just before he did, only a handful of feet away from me.
“Hi, Beth! I’m Shawn. I’m eight. And I’m your brother. Can I hug you? My nanny says I have to ask before I hug new people.”
I stared at the vibrating boy and was suddenly sure that if he wrapped his arms around me, I’d fly up to the moon with him.
That seemed like a fun adventure.
Still, I glanced over my shoulder at my mother. She was smiling. Not the big one where she was about to start laughing and tickle me. But it wasn’t the weird, small smile she used at the diner, either. Somewhere in between.
“I don’t have a brother,” I told him, because I knew I wasn’t supposed to lie, even though having a brother sounded nice.
Mom crouched beside me so my head was higher than hers. She always did that when she really wanted me to listen to her.
“You have a half-brother, Beth honey. That means Shawn has a different mommy than you.” She pointed at the blond woman who approached us at a more reserved pace. “But we both had help from the same man to make a baby.”
The woman let out a weird noise. “That’s one way to put it.”
“He is my brother?”
My mom nodded. And that was all I needed.
I slipped off the swing and stepped up to the boy—Shawn—who still had his arms open as he danced from foot to foot with impatience.
“I like hugs,” I told him.
Shawn crushed me to him so enthusiastically I let out a squeak.
“Don’t hurt her, dear,” the pretty woman said. “You two play while the grown-ups talk.”
My new brother grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the jungle gym. “What’s your favorite…what’s your favorite…” Shawn was so excited, he couldn’t even think of an ending to his question. “What’s your favorite everything?”
I smile at the memory. That was a good day.
“We had regular playdates. But his mom didn’t come after that first time.
His nanny would drive him.” And it took me years to realize why I only got to see my brother every other week.
Until I understood that this “dad” he occasionally referenced was someone who could have meant something to me, too.
“When he got his license, he’d drive out to visit.
He even offered to babysit me, but I was thirteen and I think my mom trusted me to be more responsible than him. ”
By then I understood our strange family dynamic better. I realized that Mom let Shawn into our lives for me, but his presence was probably a harsh reminder of everything that had happened to her. Especially when he started to resemble Karl.
“I’m glad. That you know each other,” George murmurs. His eyes find mine, and I’m relieved to see most of the anger has eased from his face.
“Yeah, who knows what would have happened?” I offer him a grave head shake. “Shawn might have kidnapped some unsuspecting child just to have a sibling.”
He snorts. “He had me. And Tasha. And he went to school. They didn’t lock him in a tower.” George reaches out, drawing a circle with his thumb on the back of my hand until I flip it. Then he twines his strong fingers with mine. “He didn’t want just anyone. He wanted you.”
“Eh.” I shrug as my cheeks heat. “I’m not that special.”
George’s grip tightens. “Fuck anyone who’s made you think that.”
I blink at the intensity of his voice.
“This plane has seen celebrities and billionaires and politicians.” George stands from his seat and uses his hold on my hand to draw me from mine. His gray gaze bores into my eyes. “Both Shawn and I would agree that you are the most important person who has ever stepped foot inside the cabin.”
I swallow hard. Then I pierce the single breath of space between us, capturing the lips that say words designed to wreck me.
George grunts deep in his throat as I kiss him hard, dragging my tongue against his and trying to consume every bit of him.
The world shifts, and I gasp into his mouth, realizing a second later that George has pressed me back against the entrance to the cockpit.
His thigh slips between mine, my hands cradle his head, and my pounding heart threatens to escape my rib cage.
This man could crush me. But he only surrounds me.
A light flashes across my face, and I jerk away from George’s mouth in surprise. He stares down at me, his eyes heavy-lidded with arousal and his lips swollen and damp from my eager kisses.
“It was only headlights,” he mutters as his fingers press like a massage into my backside. “But we might want to relocate this.”
“How big is your back seat?” I ask, my voice breathless and needy.
George lets out a strained laugh, lunging forward to press a lingering open-mouth kiss to my neck, where I’m sure he can taste my thundering pulse.
Wetness collects at my center, and I can’t stop my hips from thrusting against the granite of his leg.
An irrational part of my brain reasons that a cockpit is the perfect place for George to whip out his cock.
Why else would they have given that name to this part of the plane?
He pulls back with a groan, and I whimper in protest.
But the hot pilot grins and makes a tempting counteroffer.
“Would you like to see where I live?”