Lexi #2
I glance at the sunroof and open it, then stand to take in the city. I wave Easton up with me, and we stand beside each other, smiling.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asks.
“No,” I admit. “I saw it in a movie once.”
He studies my lips, touching my cheek, and I melt into him. I swallow, noticing our breaths growing more ragged.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
“No,” he says in a low voice. “Not this time.”
I smile. “Too bad. Might’ve been magical.”
My hair whips around in the wind, and when we pick up speed, Easton pulls me down with him.
Twenty minutes later, the car comes to a stop. When the door opens, I see we’re at an airport, and there’s a private jet waiting on the tarmac with the stairs down.
“Easton,” I whisper.
He places his hand on my back and leads me to the stairs. At the top, a beautiful flight attendant eagerly awaits.
I look over my shoulder as the driver unloads suitcases from the trunk, knowing Easton had this planned. Then, I move my attention to him, and he catches me staring. I find the strength to turn away and continue up the stairs.
“Hi, Ms. Matthews. Welcome aboard,” the blonde tells me.
I step inside and it’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined—a leather sitting area, a bar, and several luxury seats. There’s a door in the back, which is probably another room.
“Hi,” Easton says to the flight attendant behind me.
When his hand finds its home on my back, I relax. I sit, and he takes the one next to me.
“This is too much,” I tell him.
“For you, there isn’t a limit.”
I laugh. “You’re being ridiculous. Things that impress me, money can’t buy.”
“That’s something we can agree on,” he says matter-of-factly.
Not too long later, the private jet lifts off, and I watch Manhattan’s skyline fade through the large circular window.
The flight attendant brings us booze in glasses with ball-shaped ice.
“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask, taking a sip of the smooth drink.
“Hell no,” he says, checking his watch. “I’m not letting you ruin this.”
I should’ve expected that answer. As I watch the skyline disappear, I close the window shade and turn to him.
“I want to get to know you, the real you. Away from it all. Just me and you.”
“Why?” I drown in his blue eyes.
“I’m marrying you. I want to know my wife.” His voice drops.
My eyes slide down to his mouth, and that smirk might do me in this time. I follow the buttons down his shirt, which is rolled at the elbows, showing his tattoos.
“Can I ask you anything while we’re together?”
“No limits. I have nothing to hide from you.”
I tilt my head. “You might regret saying that.”
“Try me.” It sounds like a dare.
The cabin lights lower and I pull my gaze away from Easton’s perfect mouth, one that’s assuredly broken many hearts.
I want to know him, all of his secrets, and I’ll keep them until the end of time. I want to know what makes him tick, what he dreams about, and what makes him happy. Everything. Because right now, this man is an enigma.
“You should get comfortable,” he tells me, lifting the armrest between us.
When he opens his arms, I hesitate.
“You think sleeping on stone is comfy?”
His laugh floats through the air, and it’s contagious.
He leans in and whispers in my ear, “The flight attendant hasn’t stopped watching us together.”
I understand. We’re not alone. The show must go on.
I slide my arms around him and rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat rapidly thumps; it’s faster than average.
I pull away to meet his eyes and don’t realize how close I am, but I can’t find the strength to create space. He doesn’t either.
“You good?” I whisper, searching his eyes.
He tucks loose hair behind my ear. “Better than ever.”
“Your heart is racing.”
“I have a secret,” he says. “I hate flying.”
For a brief second, I see a sliver of this man’s vulnerable side.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” I whisper, moving back into position.
Easton places his arms around me, holding me tighter against him. The smell of him nearly tugs me under—mahogany with a hint of mint.
He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger as I listen to him inhale and exhale slowly. The real him, the man he hides under designer suits, hates crowds and flying and frequently does both. I don’t envy the money and what he sacrifices by having it.
“You smell good,” I whisper, smiling. He encapsulates me.
“You do too,” he says back.
His heart rate eventually slows, and when I nuzzle into his chest, he relaxes.
I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what Remi said.
I think about my dad and if he’d have liked Easton or what he’d have said after meeting him.
He always told me to find a man who appreciated vintage cars because they were the ones who still opened doors for ladies.
He was right.
My eyes grow heavy, and it doesn’t take long before I drift off as we soar through the sky like a bullet.
“Lexi,” I hear Easton say, lightly brushing his fingertips against the outside of my arm.
“Mmm?” For a moment, I’m not sure where I am.
“We’re about to land,” he mutters in a gruff tone.
I sit up, rolling my neck on my shoulders, feeling stiff.
Easton yawns and I lift the window shade. It’s still dark outside, and my mouth falls open as we descend.
The moonlight illuminates the snowcaps at the top of the tall peaks.
“Are those mountains?”
“I love seeing your excitement,” he says as we touch down into a valley.
We taxi to a private hangar, the flight attendant helps us deboard, and a blacked-out car waits. It’s the middle of June, but there’s briskness in the air.
Our suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, and then we leave. The windows are dark, so I can’t see through them, and I wonder if that’s by design. Maybe I won’t be able to ruin his surprise.
Easton leans his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I take the opportunity to study how fucking beautiful he is.
His eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and I feel like I’m locked in place, frozen in time, knowing he caught me. Neither of us says a word as we hold a silent conversation, and I’m glad he can’t hear my heartbeat right now.
“We’re almost there,” he says.
His arm brushes against me as he checks his watch. He closes his eyes again and leans his head back.
His lips turn up into a small smile. “Lexi, I can feel you staring.”
I can’t deny it. I focus my attention forward. It’s nothing but a two-lane highway and headlights guiding the way. We’re the only vehicle on the road.
Eventually, the car stops and Easton’s door opens. He walks to my side and holds out his hand. I take it as I admire the log cabin mansion.
“Uh …”
He smirks. “Come on.”
The driver follows behind us with our luggage, and Easton punches the code on the front door. It opens and he leads me inside.
A wooden chandelier with lights that flicker like candles hangs from the high ceiling, and I notice the gigantic vase of white roses under it on a center table. The door clicks closed and he stands beside me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“This is one of my favorite places to be,” he admits. “I can’t wait for you to see the view in the morning over coffee.”