Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MABLE
Caldwell keeps his eyes on me while everyone that passes by us has theirs on him.
I see a few people whisper. It’s rude to openly stare, but I don’t blame them.
If I weren’t so shy, I’d do the same—well, again.
I could stare at that man for way longer than I’m openly willing to admit.
Instead of giving in to the urge to do just that, I keep my eyes trained forward.
“Here.” He sets a glass of champagne in front of me.
“Thanks.” I pick it up, taking a small sip. I’m pretty sure I’m tipsy already.
“Have to clink it.” I peek over at him to see his glass lifted. I clink mine with his, our eyes locked. A promise lingers in his eyes. The bubbles tickle my nose. It’s crisp and a touch dry.
“You know people stare at you.” Why did I say that? I should lay off the champs, but I find myself taking another sip, starting to relax more in my seat. It’s the first time I’ve ever allowed myself to be this relaxed, and I have to admit it’s kinda nice.
“Are you sure it’s not you?” He gives me a half smile, that charming dimple of his on full display.
“Me?” I snort a laugh.
“Why is that funny?” He appears to really not understand.
“I’m in sweats, no makeup, and I barely brushed this hair.” I point to the messy bun piled on top of my head.
“Exactly. You’re a natural beauty.”
“Right,” I laugh. “Now you, do you model?” He’s the one that laughs this time, a low chuckle rumbling from him. What am I doing sitting next to this man?
It’s only day one of my adventure, and I’ve already found myself in over my head with a man who likely rides a motorcycle full-time, based on his vibe.
I know that the watch he’s wearing is worth over a hundred grand, and he is sitting in first class.
With a watch like that, he should be flying private.
“No modeling for me.”
“What do you do then?”
“I run an organization, I suppose you could say, which means I do a bit of everything.”
“Your tattoos—” I trail off, realizing that what I was about to say could be misconstrued as rude.
“What? Don’t fit?” He must hear that often. “I typically have long-sleeve button-up shirts on so they’re mostly hidden, but I’m on vacation.”
“Right.”
“Didn’t we all have our rebellious years as teens?” he teases me.
“My idea of rebelling was going to college early, where I went to zero parties and on a handful of dates.” I don’t know why, but I have this need to warn him how boring I really am.
“Dates.” He grabs on to the singular word. “When was the last one you went on?”
I hold my fingers up. “Two days ago.”
“Peace back at you.” I jerk my head back to see one of the drunk guys from the bar flashing me a peace sign. I drop my hand. “What?” he asks.
“Keep moving your ass.” One of the guys pushes at his back to make his friend keep walking.
“I got you.” Then he winks at me. “See you when we land.” Is that a warning, or is that his idea of flirting?
Caldwell must take it as a threat because he grabs the man’s forearm and yanks him down close to him.
I can’t hear what Caldwell says to him, but I can see that the blood drains from his face.
“So?” Caldwell says loud enough for me to hear this time.
“I’m sorry, from all of us. We apologize,” the man says.
“Oh, okay,” I respond, and Caldwell releases his hold. I notice the flight attendant watching this all play out, and I worry that Caldwell might get in trouble, but she simply turns around. “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“I won’t get in trouble,” he says with utter confidence. “But it wouldn’t matter. I refuse to sit here and let him either try to flirt with you right in front of me or allow him to make you uncomfortable because he’s not getting the reaction he wants.”
“Thanks.” Shyness fills me. It’s sweet he’s sticking up for me when he doesn’t have to. I take another sip of my champagne, and the flight attendant starts to do her spiel about safety.
“Did you bring anything to do on the flight?” Caldwell asks, stretching his legs out as he leans back in his chair.
“My eReader. You?”
“I have my laptop. This was all very last minute.” He gives a small shake of his head, but he’s smiling.
“You’re close with your brother?” I ask, wanting to know more about him.
We fall into easy conversation. I find out he is close with his brother but doesn’t get to see him as often as he’d like. Caldwell also sounds like a workaholic. That’s what he spends most of his time doing, at least from what he’s told me.
“So this is a much-needed vacation.”
“I suppose, but I enjoy my work. It keeps me busy.”
Then he starts asking questions of his own.
“Your mother and mine are night and day.” Caldwell chuckles.
“Are you saying I’m like your mother?” I tease.
“Oh, God no.” He shakes his head harder. “But there must be a plan.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda me.” I laugh. “Except now. No plans. I’m going with the flow. See, I’m laid-back.” I try to lay the seat back, but it doesn’t work. It takes me a few tries.
“What’s changed? This need to jump and not know how far the ground is.”
The flight attendant stops next to us, asking which meal we each want for our dinner. When she steps away, I answer him.
“I’m boring,” I admit. I might as well let him know this if by chance he is flirting with me. I don’t need another disastrous date in my future, except this isn’t a date. We will part ways in a few hours’ time, and I may never see him again.
“Who told you that?” I can tell he’s annoyed at whomever did it.
“A few dates. Boring, cold, plain, prude, and you know what? I’ll stop there.” I give a forced laugh, trying to lighten things so I don’t become emotional.
“That’s fucking ridiculous. Sounds to me like they knew you were out of their league and would never reach the bar that would let them find out if you are boring and cold, which I doubt. You give your all. I can see that in you in the short time we’ve known each other.”
“You’re sweet.” I know the heat on my cheeks isn’t because of the drinks.
“But they’re right. I mean, I’m still a virgin.
” I snort a laugh but quickly cut it off.
Why did I say or do any of that? If it were possible, I’d climb under this seat, but it’s not, so I have to deal with the words I released out into the world.
“Don’t hold back now.” He gives me a playful smile that has the embarrassment that was rising pushing right back down. “Not everyone hops into bed right away. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You want a connection.”
“Yeah,” I admit, taking another sip of my drink when the flight attendant refills it.
“I’m worried that’s the part I’ll be terrible at.
I’m already so behind at this point. And two, I think I’ll be one of those girls that connects sex and love strongly to each other.
Then I’ll be all clingy.” I groan at the thought.
It’s not because I wouldn’t want to be clingy. I just don’t want to face the judgment that comes with being that way. Though, right now I’m finding I don’t give a crap, but I’m pretty tipsy at this point.
“There isn’t anything wrong with that. My brother fell in love in a few short weeks. When you know, you know.” He says it with such confidence. “And I promise you, gorgeous.” Caldwell leans closer. “You won’t be bad at it.”
I lick my lips. “You think?”
“I know.”
“How?”
“That’s easy. Because I know you’re not plain, prude, boring, or cold, and I can prove it.
” I don’t get a chance to ask how. Caldwell presses his mouth to mine.
His hand goes to the back of my neck, cupping me there, effectively holding me in place.
The action is small compared to the effect it has on my body.
He wants me, and he wants to make sure I’m not going anywhere.
I part my lips when his tongue licks along the seam of my mouth. I moan when his tongue touches mine. He tastes of mint and earthiness.
I kiss him back. This is my first kiss, and I’m going to get my fill.
With each second, the kiss grows hungrier, and the need to be close to him is overwhelming.
I suck his tongue before biting his bottom lip.
He lets out a low groan that rumbles from him before he suddenly jerks back, leaving me in a daze and gasping hard for air.
“Sorry,” I whisper. I’d taken it too far, and he was merely kissing me so that I could see there is passion inside of me. There is, but I don’t believe it’s only the kiss; it’s him. But I’m still shocked at how I’d returned it. I don’t think it’s the drinks either.
“Don’t ever apologize for that.” The insistence in his eyes has me shifting in my seat.
“You stopped,” I point out.
“I was two seconds from pulling you into my lap.” He gives the back of my neck a squeeze, reminding me I’m still in his hold.
“Oh.” I lick my lips. That doesn’t sound bad to me.
“Not here, gorgeous.” He keeps calling me that, and I kind of love it. Who am I kidding? There is no kind of about it.