Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
“She can’t resist anything with tuna in it,” I reply, already envisioning Minnie’s opportunistic nature in full swing at the very mention of food.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles and helps me into his car.
The private jet's cabin is the epitome of understated luxury, all sleek lines and creamy leather seats. I feel a bit like an imposter in this plush surrounding as Minnie and I settle in, trying not to look as awed as I feel. Meanwhile, Minnie, in true kitty fashion, acts like she’s gracing us all with her regality by allowing her presence.
“Everyone comfortable?” Noah asks, turning to flash a smile that nearly makes me forget to breathe properly.
I nod, adjusting Minnie's carrier beside me and giving her a reassuring pat, even as she throws Noah a disdainful glare. There are plenty of empty seats, but Noah chooses the one right next to mine, sinking into it with an effortless grace.
Minnie voices her opinion on Noah’s seating choice by letting out a soft growl before pointedly shifting further into the depths of her carrier. I chuckle softly, nudging Minnie with a finger. “Be nice, Miss Diva.”
As the plane hums to life, I consciously begin my go-to relaxation breathing routine. Flying isn’t really my favorite activity. I always plan to act cool and collected, but my pulse spikes the moment the engines roar to life.
Beside me, Noah runs through some emails on his laptop, seemingly oblivious to my sudden onset of nerves. I exhale slowly, finding a pace with my breaths and focusing on the steady rhythm to keep any latent anxiety at bay.
And then, it happens. My breath catches for a whole different reason when Noah’s warm and unexpectedly reassuring hand closes around mine. I freeze as every piece of my planned composure flies right out the window. It’s like he’s hit the pause button on time.
“You okay?” His voice is low, just loud enough to be heard over the plane’s engines.
"Um, yeah," I stutter, caught entirely off-guard. His hand holding mine throws my senses for a loop. My heart beats double time while electricity tingles along my nerves.
Some spark lingers in the air between us, and suddenly, I’m deploying those relaxation breaths for an entirely different purpose.
“There’s nothing like being thousands of feet in the air to put things in perspective,” Noah says softly, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles in a gesture that feels incredibly intimate yet effortlessly natural. Who could’ve imagined this turn of events?
Infinite skies stretch beyond us as the plane soars over sprawling landscapes, an endless horizon of possibilities I’m only beginning to comprehend. And for a while, we remain just like this.
Chapter 4
Scarlett
Between the steady hum of the jet engines and the gentle pressure of Noah’s hand in mine, I find myself drifting off to sleep. It’s surprising how easily the calmness of having him near seems to cradle me into a reprieve my body apparently needs. One minute, I’m wide-eyed and devouring every detail of this surreal trip, and the next, I’m wrapped in oblivious slumber.
When I eventually blink back to consciousness, the plane is taxiing on the runway. I stretch, piecing together my surroundings and momentarily disoriented by the coziness lingering from my mid-air nap.
Next to me, Noah is engrossed in his laptop, focused and efficient, the picture of productivity fitting seamlessly with the plush luxury surrounding him.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble, wiping remnants of sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand. “I didn’t mean to completely conk out on you. I should’ve helped with whatever you were working on.”
He closes his laptop and turns to me with a reassuring smile as his blue eyes soften. “No need to apologize. You needed the sleep more than I needed an extra set of eyes.” Who is this man?
His words settle over me like a warm blanket, warming my heart and easing any residual embarrassment from my unintentional nap fest. Our working relationship has morphed into something I’m having trouble defining. Or maybe I’m just scared to consider what it means.
As the plane comes to a full stop, it dawns on me with sudden clarity that our paths are about to diverge. “So, is your family meeting you in town for the holidays?” I ask, trailing off because I realize I’m not quite sure where his journey goes from here, except that it doesn’t involve California.
“I’m not really close to my family.” He shrugs, giving me a rare glimpse at something personal. “I’d prefer to spend the holiday with peace and quiet.”
“Oh,” I reply, not really knowing what to say.
“I’m looking forward to the quiet time,” he adds like it’s no big deal to spend the holidays alone.
A sudden thought occurs to me—he’s getting off the plane, which means I’ll have to fly the rest of the way to California alone. “I’ll make sure to stay on top of emails and texts, so feel free to reach out if you need anything. I promise not to nap on the job again.”