Million Dollar Cowboy (Cupid, Texas #5)(38)

"Beyond." She grinned helplessly, part of her scared to death, the other part yearning to fly.

"Me too," he confessed as he taxied down the narrow airstrip.

And then they were off. Rising up in the air, the buildings below growing smaller below them.

It was very smooth, the climb. It was just the two of them enclosed in a whole new world together. Or at least it was new to her.

She assumed he'd taken many women up in his plane. She had no illusion that she was special on that score. He was rich and good-looking. He owned his own plane, his own business, his own house-hell, two houses-one here and one in Calgary.

Honestly, his wealth intimidated her. She didn't own anything besides a yard full of animals and a passel of student debt. She rented her home, and she was still paying on the eight-year-old Tundra she'd bought used after her old Chevy was totaled in the accident.

The engine hummed sharp and smart and it reminded her of another humming. The ground looked so faraway, her Tundra little more than a blue dot parked beside the landing strip.

It made her sad. Seeing everything fall away. Kaia pressed a hand to her stomach, felt a slosh of loneliness.

"Don't look down," he said. "Eyes on the sky."

She raised her head, looked out the windshield. "What do you call the windshield on a plane?"

"Windshield." He laughed. "Although some people say windscreen."

Sky stretched all around them. Wide-open. Inviting. "How long have you been flying?"

"Five years."

"Is there anything you don't know how to do?"

"Relax," he said.



       
         
       
        

"Huh?" she said, forcing herself to unclench her fist. Flying was thrilling, but she was uptight. How had he known?

"According to my critics," he explained, "I don't know how to relax."

"Oh."

"What they don't get is that working is how I relax."

It was peaceful, until they flew through a patch of clouds and the plane bobbled wildly without warning. Kaia gasped and grasped the leather seat with both hands.

"What's happening! What's happening!"

"Just a little turbulence. Nothing to worry about," he said, watching her cling to the seat as if it could save her life.

Her cheeks reddened, and she pressed a palm to her heart. "Oh whew. I didn't mean to flip out. Sorry."

"Fear of flying?"

"No. Dread fear of crashing."

"I've gotcha, Kaia," he said, his voice full of strength and certainty. "I'm in charge here. I'll keep you safe. Always."

Somehow, she believed it. She gave a smile and teasingly said, "My hero." Except it came out sounding more reverential than jokey.

The plane leveled out and she peered through the side window again, gazing at the white wedding chapel, reception barn, and Ridge's house below.

It was so peaceful up here. She could see why he loved this. No cell phones. No texting. No multitasking. No interruptions. Just the sky.

"I'm going higher," he said.

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"Here we go," he said, working the controls. By seamless increments he brought them higher into the clouds until they were engulfed by low-lying mist.

Kaia giggled, giddy with it.

"Ah." He exhaled deeply, as if he'd entered a mythical realm.

Suddenly, she realized he was casting a spell, strange fairy-tale magic as mesmerizing as the humming she'd heard when he'd kissed her-rare, priceless treasures.

On an impulse, she matched her breathing with his, aligning their patterns. She pretended he was the thrust of the plane and she the ephemeral clouds.

"Kaia," he whispered, and she wasn't sure if he'd actually said something or she imagined it.

She opened her eyes, glanced over.

He was staring at her.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

Nowhere. Everywhere.

"I'm right here," she said. "Right here with you."

"We better get back."

"I know," she said, her heart reluctant. "Archer is already strung like a guitar string over this wedding. We don't want to add to his stress." 

The clouds separated and they left them behind, streamers of a delightful dream. A glimpse of what could be. A single tear collected in the corner of her eye, and she quickly daubed it away.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"Coming after me this morning. Knowing where to find me. Hanging out with me in the clouds."

"My pleasure," she said, because it was.

He circled the plane, and angled toward the landing strip. Up here things were quiet, simple.