Chapter 37
AUSTIN
Watching Melody experience the private jet was better than any entertainment money could buy. She touched everything—the leather seats, the polished wood paneling, and the remote that controlled the TV. Her eyes were wide, taking in every detail like she was trying to memorize it all.
“This is real wood,” she said, running her hand along the wall paneling. “Like, actual real wood. On a plane.”
“Brazilian rosewood, I think.”
“You think?” She turned to look at me. “You’re not sure?”
“I didn’t build it.” I shrugged. “And I’ve been in planes like this a hundred times. I stopped noticing the details years ago. My family owns several.”
“Do they own this one?”
I shook my head. “No. I chartered this one. I wasn’t interested in them getting to have a say in where I go. I haven’t used the family planes in years.”
“That’s insane.” She gestured around. “This is the most luxurious thing I’ve ever seen, and you stopped noticing?”
“When you grow up with it, it just becomes normal.” But watching her marvel at everything? That made me see it differently. Made me appreciate what I’d always taken for granted.
And kind of made me feel like a world-class jerk for not noticing just how good my life was. Yes, there was a lot of responsibility and drama, but I had it better than most.
The flight attendant brought us a tray of appetizers, more fancy stuff I usually ignored.
“Thank you.” Melody smiled at her.
The attendant smiled back and then looked at me. I was sure I saw something I didn’t like. She was flirting with me. I looked at her and shook my head. I wanted it made very clear I was not interested.
And then that’s when it hit me.
Oh shit.
I knew her.
Well, I didn’t know her name, but I knew her in the biblical sense. I was pretty sure she was my attendant on a flight about six months ago. She simply smiled and then walked away.
Melody tried everything with the enthusiasm of someone experiencing their first meal.
“Oh my god, what is this?” She held up something that looked like a tiny piece of toast with stuff on it.
“Crostini with truffle paté, I think.”
“It’s amazing.” She took another. “How do you not just eat these all day?”
“Because I’m an idiot who doesn’t appreciate what he has.” I pulled her closer on the wide seat. “But you’re teaching me. Making me see things differently.”
She kissed my cheek. “Good. Because this is incredible and you should be impressed by your own life.”
We settled in for the flight. I found myself asking questions I’d never bothered to ask before. About her childhood, her parents, what made her who she was.
“Tell me about your family,” I said. “Your parents are in Belize, right?”
“Yeah, for half the year. They’re basically snowbirds now, except they escape to somewhere warm year-round instead of just winter.” She smiled, and I could see the affection in her expression. “They’re characters. Both of them.”
“What do they do?”
“My dad worked in accounting for the police department. Super steady, very practical, very ‘plan for retirement’ kind of guy.” She was playing with my fingers now, an unconscious gesture that I loved.
“My mom was the opposite. Total entrepreneur. She owned this cute little soup and sandwich shop when I was growing up. Made everything from scratch. It was her dream.”
“Was?”
“They sold it when I was twelve. She was ready for something new.” Melody laughed.
“That’s my mom. Always onto the next thing.
You are a lot alike, I think. She started a travel agency after that, and that’s how she discovered Belize.
Fell in love with it on a scouting trip and basically never wanted to leave. ”
“So you got your business sense from her.”
“And my dad’s practicality. He’s the one who taught me to save money, plan ahead, not make impulsive decisions.” She shot me a look. “Which is why this trip is making him have a mild heart attack.”
“You told your parents?”
“I texted my mom. Who immediately told my dad. Who immediately started asking about safety protocols and whether I had done a background check on you.”
I grinned. “And?”
“And my mom told him to relax and let me live my life. That I was an actual adult and could make my own choices.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “But she also made me promise to check in daily. So you’re stuck with me FaceTiming my parents at least once.”
“I can handle that.”
“Can you? My dad’s going to grill you about your intentions.”
“My intentions are pure. Mostly pure. Sometimes pure. Okay, not even a little pure.”
She laughed. I loved that sound.
“What was it like being an only child?” I asked.
“Lonely sometimes. But also nice? I got all my parents’ attention. Never had to compete for anything. But I always wanted siblings. Wanted that chaos and noise and someone to share things with.”
“You can have some of mine. I’ve got plenty to spare.”
“How many brothers do you have again?”
“Too many. I lose count.” It was a joke, but I didn’t want to talk about my family. “I have my full brothers and then all the step-brother cousins.”
She laughed. “You have a very interesting family tree.”
“No shit.”
“That sounds overwhelming.”
“It is. Especially when they’re all overachievers who make me look like a total loser.” The words came out more bitter than I intended.
Melody sat up to look at me. “You’re not a loser.”
“Tell that to my father.”
“I will. Next time I see him.” She was serious.
“Austin, you’re building something different than your brothers.
That doesn’t make it less valuable. I cannot imagine what it’s like to wake up and throw caution to the wind and just live footloose and fancy free.
You don’t care about making more money. Isn’t that the burden we’re all stuck with?
We spend our lives making money because we think we’re enjoying the perks, but are we?
You have money and you’re enjoying the perks.
From the sounds of it, your family doesn’t need any more money, right? ”
“No, they don’t,” I said.
“So, you’re building something different with your life.”
“Building what, exactly? A reputation as the screwup?”
“Building a life that’s actually yours. Not something handed to you or expected of you. That takes guts.” She kissed me softly. “Your brothers might have the Bancroft empire. But you have freedom. And that’s worth something.”
I had never been able to really put my way of life into words. She expressed it in a way I never could. I wondered if I could explain it to my father. Would he get it if I used words that sounded good and thought out?
“Thank you,” I said. “For seeing me.”
“Of course, I see you. Just like you see me.”
We continued to snack and talk.
When the captain announced we’d be stopping in Honolulu to refuel, I was surprised that we had been in the air for so long. An idea struck me.
“How would you feel about a quick detour?” I asked.
“A detour?”
“Honolulu. We’ll be there for at least an hour while they refuel. We could see the city. Get some food. Stretch our legs.”
“Won’t that delay everything? The crew is probably on a schedule.”
“The crew is on my dime and my clock. They’ll wait. When’s the last time you were in Hawaii?”
“Never.”
“Never?” I stared at her. “That’s a crime. We’re definitely stopping.”
When we landed in Honolulu, I took her hand and led her off the plane. The crew didn’t even blink. They were used to my impulsive changes of plan.
I pulled out my phone and called my usual car service I used when I was on the island. We got cold drinks and watched the crew work. Ten minutes later the car showed up.
I escorted her into the back and held her hand as I told the driver where to go. We started with one of my favorite places. It was a hole-in-the-wall poke place that tourists never found.
“This is so good,” she murmured. “I am not taking a picture of this place and posting it, but I am so tempted.”
I slowly shook my head. “Uh-uh-uh. Has to stay a secret.”
After the poke, I took her to a tiki bar with the best Mai Tais on the island. We lounged around, simply enjoying the ambiance before we went for a walk along the beach.
“Austin, I’m having a great time, but I feel bad,” she said. “They’re waiting for us.”
“So let them wait,” I replied.
“Austin, that’s not nice.”
“Melody.” I stopped walking, turning to face her. “While you’re with me, you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. The crew gets paid whether we’re on the plane or not. They’re professionals. They’ll wait as long as we need them to. You don’t think they’re used to that stuff.”
“That feels so wrong.”
“It’s not. It’s normal for me. Which is what you need to get used to.” I pulled her closer. “Money solves a lot of problems. Including making people wait while we watch the sunset in Hawaii.”
She looked up at me, the orange and pink sky behind her. “This is your normal?”
“Yes.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her face. The smile on her face was worth a million dollars. No, billions. Having access to my trust and being able to give her everything was suddenly far more important than ever.
She kissed me with the waves lapping at our feet and the Hawaiian sunset painting everything gold. This was what I had been missing. Not the money or the jets or the lifestyle. Just this feeling of being exactly where I’m supposed to be, with exactly who I’m supposed to be with.
We made it back to the plane eventually, and the crew welcomed us aboard without comment. The captain announced we’d be continuing to Tahiti, and we settled back into our seats.
Melody’s hand found my thigh. My hand covered hers. We looked at each other, and I saw my own desire reflected in her eyes.
“Come here,” I said, my voice rough.
She moved onto my lap, straddling me in the wide seat. The flight attendant had disappeared into the galley, giving us privacy.
“We’re on a plane,” Melody whispered.
“I’m aware.”
“Someone could see.”
“The crew knows better than to interrupt.”
“We’re breaking the rules again.”
“Good.” I pulled her down for a kiss. “I’m starting to think the rules were bullshit anyway.”
She kissed me back, deep and hungry, her fingers threading through my hair. I gripped her hips, pulling her closer. She gasped against my mouth. I quickly took advantage and shoved my tongue inside.
We were on a plane with a flight attendant lurking nearby. I wouldn’t disrespect Melody. I knew she wouldn’t be comfortable joining the Mile-High Club with an audience.
But I wanted to.
My hands slid under her shirt. She arched into my touch with her lips moving to nip at my earlobe. I had to bite back a groan.
“Melody,” I breathed.
“I know.”
“The yacht. We need to get to the yacht.”
“How much longer?”
I checked my watch. “Too long. Way too long.”
She pulled back slightly, and we were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen from kissing. Her eyes were dark with desire. She looked absolutely wrecked, and I wanted to wreck her more.
“This is torture,” she said.
“Agreed.” I adjusted her on my lap, rubbing her heat against my erection. She made a sound that nearly undid me. “We should—you should probably sit in your own seat.”
“Probably.”
But neither of us moved. We just sat there, tangled together, trying to get our breathing under control.
“I can’t believe you’re making me wait,” she finally said.
“Making you wait? You’re the one torturing me right now.”
“I could torture you more.” Her hand slid down my chest.
“Don’t.” I caught her wrist. “Unless you want the crew to get a show.”
She grinned, wicked and playful. “Might be worth it.”
“Melody Stephens, are you trying to seduce me on my own plane?”
“Is it working?”
“Way too well.” I kissed her once more, then gently moved her back to her own seat. “But we’re waiting until we get to the yacht. Where we have privacy. And a bed. And all night.”
“All night?”
“At least. Maybe all week.”
She fanned herself dramatically. “You’re killing me.”
“The feeling is mutual, baby girl.”
The flight was sweet torture. Every time our eyes met, the tension ratcheted higher.
Melody laughed. “Patience is not your strong suit.”
“Not where you’re concerned.”