“Aren’t girls in Texas funny?”
“Not the ones I’ve spent time with.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Do you spend time with a lot of women?”
“Looking for another flaw?”
“Always.”
“The last woman I slept with lasted a little over four years. Before her there were a few casual affairs, but nothing serious and nothing bordering on double digits. All in all, I’d say I’m about average for a man approaching thirty.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
The car silenced and his smile disappeared. “Once. But it was one-sided.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
He drew in an audible breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not. She showed me who she truly was and saved me trouble in the long run.”
“I’m still sorry someone hurt you. Despite you trying to steal my land, you seem like a good guy.”
“Thanks.” His gaze cut to her, then back to the road. “And for the record, I’m not trying to steal your land.”
She supposed it wasn’t stealing when he’d paid over the asking price. She looked out the window and frowned. “Why are we at the airport?”
He grinned and pulled the car over. There wasn’t a parking area, just an open space on the side of the tarmac. A jet waited, steps spilling out the side door like Michelle Obama was about to descend.
“Do you know what kind you want? I’m thinking sausage, but we have a two hour flight to decide. Come on.”
He opened the door and rounded the car. She was still staring at the jet, when he opened the passenger door. “That’s a plane.”
“It’s actually a jet.” He held out a hand, offering to help her out of the car.
“Where are we going?”
“You said you liked deep-dish pizza, so I figured we’d hop a flight to Chicago.”
She blinked. “I’m just a little confused. You want me…to get on that plane?”
“Yes.”
“And we’re flying to Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“For pizza?”
“Yes.”
Were booty calls always this complicated. “When will we be back?”
He looked at his watch. “You figure two and a half hours to get there, a few hours to eat and sightsee… We probably will get back sometime after midnight.”
She laughed. “Gage, it’s a fucking plane.”
“Jet.”
“Whatever.” She took his hand and followed him on board.
The interior was buttery leather with soft lighting. Champagne rested on ice and a tray of chocolate covered fruit waited by their seats. A small giftbox with a bow sat on one chair.
The flight attendant greeted them by name. Perrin was too out of her element to do more than grin.
“They know you?” she whispered as she buckled into her seat.
“They should. They work for me.” He handed her the small box.
“Wait. Is this your jet?”
“One of them.”
“Oh, my God.” She laughed. “It’s like dating a Rockefeller.”
He shook his head. “It’s like dating a King.”
Her mouth hooked in an amused smirk. “Touché.”
“Open your gift.”
Glancing at the small package on her lap, she pulled the silk bow and slid the lid off. Red and white paisley filled the box and she laughed. “A bandana.”
“I felt terrible about ruining yours.”
“Oh, you didn’t. It washed out good as new.”
“Still.” He removed it from the box and folded it into a long strip. “May I?”
She leaned forward and he slipped it under her hair at the back of her neck, tying the headband at the top of her head.
“You look like Rosie the Riveter.”
She flushed. “Guess that’s why I’m so good with a jack.”
His stare devoured her as it dropped to her lips. She found herself leaning closer, wanting him to kiss her again. After all, they had two hours to kill.
Her lashes lowered and her breathing turned shallow. His name whispered past her lips in a plea, “Gage—”
“Mr. King, we’re preparing for takeoff,” a voice interrupted from an intercom speaker and Perrin jerked back. “Please be sure to fasten your seatbelts until the light turns off.”
Gage flicked a switch. “Ready when you are, Captain.”
The reminder that they would be hurtling into the air and flying at over a thousand feet killed all sensual feelings. “Did I mention I’m sort of a nervous flyer?”
His face paled. “This is okay, right?”
The jet began to move, speeding down the runway, and her lips tightened around her exhaled breath. “No going back now.”
“Shit, Perrin, I can have him stop. It never crossed my mind you didn’t fly.”
“I fly. Once I flew to Florida on a class trip. My clothes were drenched with sweat by the time I got there, and I might have thrown up, but I flew. I can fly.”
“I’ll stop him.” He reached for the call button and she caught his hand.
“No.” Her head shook. “I’ll be fine. This is…super romantic.”
“You’re turning green.”
She swallowed. “Still. No one’s ever flown me on a private jet before. I want the experience. Just…” God, her mouth was producing a lot of saliva. “Give me a second.”