15. fly away with me
CHAPTER 15
FLY AWAY WITH ME
LINCOLN
I enjoy my job, take pleasure in the delivery of other people’s desires, but I haven’t been this invested since I started. Each word spoken to one person in particular.
One night with Ivy has reinvigorated my work. Suddenly I can’t write ideas down fast enough. I’ve been jumping on audio prompts faster than I can find them.
The more inventive, the better.
When I originally auditioned for Pulse, I never intended to make narrating erotica a full-time job. But the team at the app has been nothing short of wonderful, and what started as a lark has become a passion.
The fact is, between planning, recording, and edits, it’s a hell of a lot more work than anyone would expect. The heavy breathing alone is hell on my vocal cords.
I’ve been careful not to mix business and pleasure, but it’s different this time. The simple fact is, I can’t stop thinking about Ivy.
Did I expect to be here when I left London? Absolutely not.
Am I complaining? Not even a little.
I want to see her again. I need to know what makes her different. Why she’s having such an effect on me.
I won’t stop until I know. Hell, I haven’t even gotten around to telling anyone about our fake breakup.
On paper, Ivy feels like the opposite of what I should want. The untamed energy of my youth paired with a propensity to say what’s she’s thinking at all times.
Naked honesty? I can barely imagine it.
If I started saying what I really thought, the universe might collapse on itself.
Delving into my relationship history is a short, uninteresting tread. There are carparks with more fanfare. I’d liken it to an abandoned Olympic Park: once a beacon of great enthusiasm and promise, now a rusted obstruction, home to more failures than successes.
I’m better at the short term, at wining and dining and athletic morning sex that stretches out to lazy dessert sex. Perhaps it’s not in my nature to do anything by half measures. If I want something, I don’t deny myself.
I may not have much practice, but I’m determined and not easily distracted. If Ivy shoots me down, so be it. But I have to try.
* * *
I’ve spent so many years giving away my wealth that I’d almost forgotten how disgustingly rich Deacon was. He always used it as a weapon, forcing people to his will. Dick gave him thirty years of servitude, my parents lost their marriage, and complete knobs like Kyle tried to copy and paste themselves in his image.
After the split, he used it as emotional warfare, paying my ticket to Oxford and sending endless amounts of money that I was too much of a muppet to throw back in his face.
Back then, I lapped it up. Thought I was invincible, until I chased a girl to Bruges— it’s always fucking Bruges— and lost it all. Shit story short, it was my fault, then Reed bailed me out, and he’s never let me forget it.
I’ve worked really fucking hard for fourteen years to become a better man, using every cent Deacon tried to bribe me with to help someone else. Dad’s mortgage is paid, Manny got his bar, and every cent I earn from tenants goes back into making this building better for the people living here.
I have no use for titles or status, but I think I can be forgiven for enjoying the benefits, just this once.
It’s for a good cause, after all.
It only takes a quick call to the hangar to prep the family plane— and some convincing that Reed approved it and the trip is for family business.
Now, I need to understand why Ivy is having an argument with herself in the hallway.
“Hey.” I hasten my approach, catching her elbow in my palm. Even in scuffed sneakers and jeans, she’s stunning, enough of her hair falling out of where it’s tied up that she’s clearly been attacking it in frustration. “Careful there. How about we try a full breath?”
I’m pleased as she follows my advice, her chest rising and dropping slowly. Relaxing in small doses. “Much better,” I say. “Tell me how I can help.”
I don’t like to flaunt it, but the truth is, there isn’t much money or influence can’t solve.
She huffs a laugh. “Convince my mother I’m not making a terrible mistake?”
Except that. “If she knows you, she’s already aware of that,” I say, ducking to catch her gaze. Long lashes frame her wide brown eyes, but at least her breathing is slowing down.
When she notices I’m still holding her, she slips slowly out of my grasp, not meeting my eye. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Or is this part of a new landlord outreach program I’m not aware of?”
“Perhaps I simply wanted to see if my memory had captured your beauty adequately.”
“And?” The morning light glows around her, and it’s not a stretch to say she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I sigh theatrically, enjoying the tug of a smile I can tell she’s holding back. “Sadly, it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. You defy belief.”
For a moment she doesn’t say anything, her gaze sliding to her feet. But unless the crack in the linoleum (must get that fixed) is fascinating to her, I’d say I’ve found Ivy’s shy spot. I’m expecting the door to close, but it doesn’t, and her next words are soft, small.
“Why are you here, Lincoln?”
“We have an appointment.”
She meets my eyes finally. “Do we?” There’s a lash on her cheek, and she turns into my touch when I reach out to brush it off.
“Yes. You’re minutes away from being very charmed by me.”
There’s a shine to her eyes, a spark, asking me to lead the way. It’s a request I’ll gladly answer as many times as she asks. “That was last week. I don’t remember booking a repeat.”
“I took the liberty.”
“You do that a lot.”
“Well, would you look at that,” I say as I lean in, kissing her cheek. She smells divine, freshly washed and skin warm. “Right on time.”
“Lincoln…” She fades off. I know what comes next, but I’m not finished.
“I’m also here to take you out,” I say, sliding one hand into my pants pocket and holding the other out for her. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
She leans on the doorframe and crosses her arms, and I remember exactly how good it felt when all that toned muscle slackened under my touch. “Do I need to change?”
“Never. I want you just as you are.”
Her smile is electric, a torment and a pleasure.
* * *
As we board, our pilot, Roger, lets us know it’s the perfect day for an impromptu flight. “Low cloud cover and wind today, so we’ll get you there in a jiff.”
There are eight recliners to choose from in the private Bradbury jet, four singles and two doubles framing a table. I let Ivy take her pick first, curious to see whether she’s a window or an aisle. True compatibility arises in the smaller things, I find.
She’s been wide-eyed and quiet since we arrived at the airstrip, and it’s so unlike what I’ve come to know about her that I’m hoping it’s a matter of awe and not discomfort.
I’m not sure I could forgive myself if it’s the latter.
It pleases me when she slips into a double by the window, beckoning me over to take the seat beside her.
With the engines on, crew onboard, and the two of us buckled in, I’m surprised to find the aircraft door still open. Flagging down the attendant, I ask, “Is there a problem?”
“No sir,” he confirms. “We’re just waiting on two more.”
Bollocks.
“Sorry, love,” Darcy calls out, sounding anything but as her voice floats into the cabin. “We left as soon as Roger called, but traffic’s been a nightmare.”
Within seconds, my little sister appears, polished in wide-leg pants and an asymmetrical shirt. Mum follows her onboard, looking far more relaxed in jeans and a hopeful smile.
A family outing isn’t exactly the romantic atmosphere I was going for, but I can at least be grateful that Reed isn’t here.
“Hello, Darce.”
“Hello, you,” she says, ducking down to kiss me on both cheeks. She looks well, which always eases my mind, her honey blond hair cut to her shoulders. She waits as Mum sits across the table from Ivy, then glides elegantly in beside her.
“What a surprise,” I say. It’s exceedingly interesting that the person who has been too busy to see me in the last week is free suddenly. “I would have thought you’d be working.”
“I am working,” she retorts, but the gleam in her eye says that’s a big, fat lie. “I’ve been meaning to visit the factory, and it’s the perfect day for it.” Her gaze lands to where my hand is holding Ivy’s before jumping back to my own. She looks a little too eager to have caught us together. “Don’t mind us interrupting your romantic interlude. You’ll barely notice we’re here.”
I doubt that.
It’s cheeky as fuck, but that’s Darcy for you.
Suddenly, Ivy is pressed as close as she can be, holding her hand out to my sister. “You must be the wonderful sister I’ve heard so much about. Hi, I’m Ivy.”
“Lovely to meet you,” comes the pleased response, and they shake hands. “Sorry we didn’t know you existed, a small oversight on my brother’s part.” So, it’s going to be that sort of a visit, then. “I adore your necklace.”
Ivy touches the black leather cord that’s tied at her neck and the two pendants hanging from it. “Thank you so much. I broke the bracelet I originally had these on while sparring with my friend Fil, and actually, the leather is an offcut from a dress he was making, which was perfect, because I haven’t taken these off since I bought them.”
“What do they mean?” Darcy asks.
“The heart is my mom and the seahorse is my sister, Ciara. She’s a marine biologist and obsessed with them.”
“That’s beautiful. Nothing for Lincoln yet? My, my. You’re slipping, brother.”
Ivy laughs, but this is starting to feel too much like an interrogation for my liking. “Don’t be cheeky,” I chide gently, with a pointed look to add: Be nice. I like this one.
I need this to go well.
Darcy softens.
“Oh, there’s plenty, I promise you,” Ivy lies smoothy, saving me once again. There’s a freckle caught in her hairline that I haven’t noticed before, one of many hidden gems I’m keen to discover. “Before Lincoln, the most I ever got from a date was a complex.”
Well, that’s just unacceptable. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to make sure she has any and everything she desires.
With her gaze firmly on where our hands are linked, Ivy speaks softly. I’m too enamored with the pink dusting her cheeks that it takes a moment before her words land. But when they do, they knock my heart around. “I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone like him before.”
Mum and Darcy share a look I can’t interpret. Behind us, the attendant locks the door, shutting me in with the two most important women in my life and one I’ll be lucky to have, if I can manage not to fuck this up.