“You’ll come back again, right?” He squints into the morning sun, shielding his honey eyes with his hand. “This isn’t the end.”
I don’t know if he’s asking or stating some kind of truth. Either way, I nod.
“Sure,” I say, leaving the ball in his court.
“I know you’re busy tonight,” he says, “but what are you doing Friday night?”
I shrug, brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. Why?”
“Clear your weekend for me and pack a bag,” he says, mouth pulled up and dimple showing on one side. I’m not sure how I can say no to that. I couldn’t if I tried.
Zane de la Cruz is asking me to go away with him.
“Not sure what you’re trying to pull, de la Cruz,” I say.
“Not pulling anything. Just feel like getting away for a while,” he says. “Don’t you?”
I bite my lip to hide my excitement as I turn and walk away.
Something tells me we’re going to be taking complicated to a whole new level this weekend.
Chapter 26
Zane
“I’ve never flown on a plane this small before.” Delilah’s face is pale and her shoulders shake as she sucks in small breaths.
“Relax, gorgeous.” I place my hand on her shoulder. “We’re in good hands here.”
I nod toward my buddy, Rodrigo, a retired Air Force fighter pilot who happens to run a chartered plane service out of Gainesville.
“We’ll be there in a few hours,” I assure her. “It’ll fly by. Literally.”
She doesn’t laugh, she only studies the plane, her gaze flittering nervously.
“You can hold my hand the whole way if you want.” I lift my brows, half-teasing. I slip my hand in hers as Rodrigo loads our luggage and a small crew prepares us for takeoff.
Leading her closer to the plane, I help her up the steps and get her buckled in. She hasn’t said more than a few words in the last ten minutes.
“Where are we going?” She watches Rodrigo’s every move as he climbs into the cockpit, plugs the coordinates into his navigator, and fires it up.
“You guys ready to see the Windy City?” Rodrigo yells over the loud drone of the twin engines.
Delilah’s face lights up as her gaze snaps into mine. “You’re taking me to Chicago?”
I smile. “Yeah. That cool with you?”
She nods, grinning ear to ear. “What are we doing there?”
“Anything you want to do,” I say. “We just have to lay low. Can’t be going to any Cubs games or anywhere we might catch media attention.”
The plane taxies to the runway, and I spot Delilah running her palms along her jeans. Reaching over, I take her hand into mine as we’re propelled forward.
We check into our hotel on Michigan Avenue separately. I reserved one ‘dummy’ room that’ll be sitting empty for the weekend, but that’s the price I have to pay to get away with Delilah, and I’m completely fine with that.
“You ready yet?” I call out from the edge of the king-sized bed that centers our suite.
“One more minute,” she calls back.
“You said that a minute ago.”
I flip through the stations until I find ESPN, and lo and behold, there’s a feature running on some up-and-coming running back out of Texas. Several clubs are up in arms over which team he’s going to sign with, and according to the commentary, rumor has it it’s down to Gainesville or Atlanta.
“Well, fuck me.” I throw the remote. For once, Carissa wasn’t lying through her teeth. My jaw hinges tight, my fist clenching. I refuse to believe he’s going to knock me out of my spot in the staring lineup, but this . . . this is definitely a game changer.
Exhaling slowly to keep myself from grabbing my phone and making some calls I might regret later, I find distraction in the form of an incredibly beautiful woman standing on the other side of the room.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Delilah stands in the doorway between the bedroom and en suite bath, her hands pressed against the interior frame and her body hugged by a tight little black dress that hits mid-thigh.
Grinning, I rise and move toward her, my boxer briefs suddenly growing too tight.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous. I say we skip dinner and stay in tonight.” I pull her against my hardness and her mouth curls. “Fuck lobster. I’m eating you tonight.”
“World’s cheesiest pick up line.”
“I’m not trying to pick you up, baby. I’ve already got you.” My lips crush hers, her tongue all mint and velvet. But I know we can’t stay. I’ve made special arrangements for a private rooftop dinner overlooking Lake Michigan at the pier. “Come on, gorgeous. Car’s waiting downstairs.”