Chapter 47. Lennix
LENNIX
“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Kimba says.
I study her face on my phone. It’s our third FaceTime of the day.
She’s been holding it down in DC, and I’m in San Francisco, about to fly to Ohio.
Owen won’t make his official presidential announcement until February, but I’m running ahead and laying tracks for our ground game in some purple states where we’ll need as much of a head start as possible.
“Change of plans?” I frown and mentally review my meetings for the next day with volunteer coordinators in Ohio. “If we’re gonna stay on track for February, we have to stick to the schedule.”
“I’m well aware,” she says dryly.
I’m handpicking volunteer coordinators in our most crucial battleground states and starting to strategize. We’ll use technology to reach voters in as many innovative ways as possible, but I learned early on to never underestimate the importance of a strong ground game.
“I’m on my way to the airport now,” I say. “I’m so confused, and you know I hate being confused about as much as I hate peanut butter.”
“I’m not sure I trust people who don’t like peanut butter.”
“It sticks to the… Never mind! What is the change of plans? I need to tell this driver what to do.”
“Oh, he already knows.”
“Excuse me, sir?” I catch the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Where are we going?”
“We’re here, ma’am,” he says.
I look out the window of the SUV and realize we’re at an empty tarmac. Empty except for a jet with CadeCo emblazoned on the side.
“I’m going to get you both,” I tell Kimba when I look back to my screen and find her grinning. I’m grinning, too, though, so she can only take my threat so seriously.
Maxim was called away literally on New Year’s Day almost as soon as the party was over because of some explosion at one of his Asia-based companies.
A week into our “second chance” and we haven’t been in the same room once, not since the garden, and I leave for my service trip with Wallace in a few days.
“Get me?” Kimba pretends to consider it. “I think you mean thank me later.”
The driver, already carrying my suitcase, opens the door for me. I hesitate. Yes, the jet says CadeCo, but my Cade is nowhere in sight.
I’m about to dial Maxim when a hybrid SUV pulls up.
Maxim opens the door and strides toward me with a grin I can only call wolfish—wide and wily and like he plans to eat me.
Scruff shadows that protractor jawline, and his dark hair curls around his ears.
I mentioned liking it longer. I hope he’s not growing it out for me.
I love the silky hair any way I can feel it.
He’s wearing a cable-knit sweater the color of oatmeal, which should be illegal contrasting with his tanned skin that way.
Dark-wash jeans and boots make him look so rugged and sexy, my thighs immediately clench with the need to clamp around him.
I don’t know what he has planned, but sex better be on the agenda, or I’m making a motion to amend.
His arms encircle me, and he dips his head for a kiss.
His hands rove over my back, gripping low on my hips, just short of my ass, and urge me up onto my toes.
He plunders my mouth, the heat of the kiss burning through my self-consciousness in seconds.
I’m straining up, folding my arms at the elbows behind his neck, opening my mouth greedily under his, sucking his tongue in as deep and hard as humanly possible.
I forget about our audience of two and grunt and moan and whimper the longer we kiss.
He finally pulls back just enough to lay his forehead to mine, our labored breaths tangling between our lips.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I smile up at him and settle my hands on his shoulders.
“Keep kissing me like that and we won’t even make it to the plane.”
My cheeks warm as his words and our surroundings—the two watching, waiting men—sink in.
“You’re in trouble,” I tell him as sternly as I can feeling this turned on. “Nobody rearranges me.”
“I did.” He takes the handle of my suitcase from the driver and pulls it toward the idling plane. “I mean, with the help of Kimba, of course.”
“I have to be in Ohio for a meeting at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” I say, trying to hold on to my sense of humor and adventure.
“And you will.” He takes my hand.
I squeeze his fingers and decide to enjoy myself. “Where are we going, Doc?”
“On a date,” he says, the boyish grin that unravels my heartstrings in evidence.
“I said where, not what, though thank you for telling me we’re going on a date. Some guys just ask, which is so boring.”
“Who are these guys who’ve had you making all those pesky choices about where you’ll go and what you’ll do? Don’t they know you have better things to do than think about dates? I handled all of that for you. You’re welcome.”
“Something about that isn’t right. I hate it when you charm the logic out of everything.”
He shrugs. “It’s a gift. And we’re flying to Ohio because that’s where you need to be. Our date will have to be in the air. I’m just getting you where you need to go and stealing some of your time.”
“You flew here just to pick up li’l ol’ me?” I bat my lashes at him. “You’re supposed to be Mr. Clean and Green. I’m really disappointed in your carbon footprint.”
“You know what they say about a man with a big carbon footprint,” he says, toggling his brows suggestively.
“Oh, God. That was awful. Your conservation jokes suck.”
“Who needs to make jokes when I can make money?” he asks, laughing when I roll my eyes. “And I’m manufacturing sports bras from plastic bottles. I think I’m okay flying every once in a while.”
“You are ? How did I miss this? I need a good sports bra.”
“We can’t keep them in stock. Mill loves them, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you won’t be needing a bra tonight.”
“Wow.” I lift both brows and try to ignore how his words are flirting with sensitive spots on my body. “Aren’t you confident?”
He drops his eyes down over me, and he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “I like to think of it as hopeful.”
“Who am I to steal a man’s hope?”
We climb the short set of steps lowered from the plane.
He snaps the curtain closed behind us, and I barely have time to absorb the luxuriously appointed cabin before he pulls me down into one of the oversize leather seats, across his lap.
He thrusts one hand into my hair, guiding my face down to his, and licks hungrily into my mouth.
“Maxim.” I laugh into the kiss. “We haven’t even taken off yet.”
“I’m making up for lost time.”
“The last week?” I ask, kissing down his chin and to the strong rise of his throat from his sweater.
“The last week, the last decade. The last hour.” His hand ventures under my blouse to squeeze my breast. I gasp, leaning deeper into his palm. “You hungry?”
“Very.” I shift to straddle him, roll my hips over him, groaning at the way his hardness relieves some of the sexual pressure I feel but also stokes it higher.
He holds me still while he thrusts up, teasing me through my clothes with what I want naked.
I want to tear his clothes off, burn mine, and celebrate this new thing between us right on this leather seat.
The curtain pulls open, and I glance over my shoulder to find a blond flight attendant who looks completely shocked to see some strange woman straddling her boss.
“Mr. Cade,” she gasps. “I’m so sorry.”
She starts backing out through the curtain.
“It’s okay, Laura,” Maxim breathes heavily into the curve of my neck. He strokes my back and tucks my head into his shoulder, hiding my flaming face. “Dinner?”
“Yes, sir. Cook says it’s ready.”
“Thank you. Bring it in.” He kisses my hair. “We’re starving.”
Once I hear the curtain close, I laugh and pull back to look at him. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all.”
“She’s paid not to be awkward.”
I thread my fingers through his, looking at our hands instead of at him. “You mean when you bring women on your plane to make out?”
“I’m thirty-eight years old. I don’t ‘make out’ anymore.” He lifts my chin and holds my stare. “And I haven’t brought a woman with me like this before.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell me another one, Doc. You expect me to believe you haven’t gone all mile-high club with other women?”
The humor fades from his expression, leaving a sober cast. “I do expect you to believe it. It’s true.
I learned the hard way to be really careful about whom I allow into my private space, into my private life.
Even the most authentic people develop ulterior motives when they see just how much you could do for them. ”
“I feel honored then,” I tell him softly. “Was there never a woman you thought might be the one? Your Russian princess maybe?” I pretend to study the cream-and-black leather and gold accents of the decor so he won’t see the jealousy I’m sure brews in my eyes.
“Katya’s a great girl. She really is, and I can’t deny we had a wild couple of days a few years ago.”
I stuff a feral scream and tamp down the urge to yank a handful of blond strands from her scalp.
“But she’s never been here.” He tips my chin up again. “Just you, Nix.”
I search his eyes and find what looks like the truth. Some of the tension in my shoulders drains, and I smile. The curtain opens again, and Laura rolls in a large cart bearing several silver domes.
Maxim shifts me off his lap so he can get up and take the seat across from me. Laura rolls the table between us. There’s chicken, seafood, potatoes, asparagus, salad, and even some rich chocolate ganache–looking thing.
“Thank you,” I murmur to Laura.
“Thanks, Laura,” Maxim says. “Can you wait to clear this when we land? We aren’t to be disturbed again.”
She nods, and I take a gulp from my glass of water, hoping to cool the heat rising from the center of my body and fanning out over every part of me.
“I hope it’s okay she brought everything out at once instead of in courses,” he continues. “My mother would die a thousand deaths. She thinks it’s vulgar to eat food all slammed together.”
“You want it all and at once. A man of big appetites.”
“So you do remember,” he teases. “You’re right, but I also didn’t want her coming in and out. I want to be alone with you.”
As quickly as we shove the delicious food in, we can’t seem to get the words out fast enough.
I’d forgotten how each conversation with Maxim opens up something I’d never considered.
His mind reaches for things most people would never imagine.
Even while he’s plotting how we could save this planet, he’s wondering how we could survive on Mars if necessary.
I pierce the last bite of chicken and release a satisfied sigh. He nods to the empty plate I’ve practically licked clean. “I really wish you had enjoyed your meal more.”
I toss a dinner roll at him, which bounces off his forehead. He flinches, fork pausing halfway to his mouth. “It’s all coming back to me, why I never bring girls on my plane.”
I toss my head back and laugh and can’t remember the last time I enjoyed anyone’s company this much. Once we finish our meal, he pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I hope there won’t be ten years between this date and our next one.”
“Well, at the rate we’re going, with me being on the campaign trail and you being all over the world,” I say ruefully, “it may be.”
“Nah. I won’t let that happen again.”
There’s a serious note in his voice that makes me look up. His expression is completely void of humor.
“I deserved your distrust, Nix,” he says softly. “I know how I handled things hit a particular nerve for you, and I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. And I told you, thanks to my therapist, I now recognize there was more to it than what was on the surface.”
“I understand your fear about me…” He shakes his head. “Over the years, I always needed to make sure you were okay, so I get you being concerned about my…how did you put it? Love for danger?”
I manage a smile because it still scares me on some level that his pursuit of the next thing, the thing that doesn’t even exist yet, might one day put him in danger he can’t get out of. I’ve picked up those pieces before, and I’m not sure I can do it again.
“I wanted to give you something.” He lifts the lid from a small dome by his plate to reveal a small flat box.
“What is it?” It doesn’t even matter. It’s for me from him. It’s him thinking about me when we were apart.
“Open it.”
He offers me the jewelry box, and my hands tremble the slightest bit when I take it from him.
Our fingers brush, and that same charge zips over my nerve endings in a way I’ve never experienced with anyone else.
My body finds a thousand ways to tell me Maxim is distinct.
It has refused to offer this response to any other man, and I’m finally accepting his place in my life.
It’s hard to imagine where I fit in his if I think about it too hard, so I’ve determined to just feel how good it is to be with him again.
“Doc, it’s absolutely beautiful.” Tears prick my eyes, and I touch the compass charm dangling from a platinum bracelet. “You didn’t… You don’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.”
He takes it from me, wraps the delicate rope around my wrist, and does the clasp. I trace the points—north, south, east and west—and remember running in the four directions during my Sunrise Dance, gathering the elements to myself. This gift feels perfect and meaningful.
“It’s because we found our way back to each other,” he says, a self-deprecating twist to his mouth. “Or rather I got tired of waiting and demanded you back in my life. Maybe I’m more like my father than I want to admit.”
He says it lightly, but I know he means it and, on some level, questions it, maybe even worries about it.
I stand and walk around the table. For once I’m taller, his face level with my chest.
“You and your father are a lot alike, but you’re different in all the right ways. I sometimes wonder how did Warren Cade make a man like you?”
He nods and lets out a harsh laugh. “I wonder that, too.”
“But he didn’t make you. The ruthlessness, the ambition, the determination and sense of adventure—all those things come from your father, but you studied beyond what he taught you.
You went out into the world to see what else there was to it.
You chose those experiences, and they shaped you into the man you are. Into the man I…”
I can’t say that word yet. Our reunion is too new. We’re too new, this version of us.
I dip my head and hold his stare. “You’re exactly the man I want.”