Page 82 of Falcon

Chapter 17

Faith

The flight was easily one of the smoothest I’ve ever been on. I’m not sure if it’s because we were in first class, or if the air was cooperative, or if it was the fact I had this beautiful man beside me expertly distracting me with a very intense game of naughty Hangman.

It's like regular Hangman, but with words that made my cheeks heat until they were bright red and I was squirming in my seat.

He knew he was getting to me too, so he left single words behind and began phrases, and honestly, I don’t know how I made it to this very moment, waiting for our bags at baggage claim without jumping his bones.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” I hear a man call from behind me, and I instantly whip around to see a tall, strikingly handsome older man. Maybe in his fifties or so with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind smile. He’s wearing khaki slacks and a blue collared polo.

“Joe,” Falcon says from beside me, and immediately goes to him for one of those back slapping bro hugs.

Joe. His manager. His friend.

I stand back, giving them some space to say hello. Meeting new people isn’t my favorite thing in the world, nor the easiest for me to do. Hello, I’m an introvert. Nice to meet you.

“How was your trip? How are you feeling?” Joe asks, holding him at arm’s length.

“Damn, man, you act like I’ve been gone six years to a war zone. I’m fine. I feel great.”

The man turns his eyes toward me. “And who is this beauty you have with you?”

I step forward and introduce myself, “Hi. I’m Faith.” I extend my hand to greet him with a handshake.

“Faith. That’s a beautiful name. For a beautiful gal.” He shakes my hand. “I’m assuming there is a story here that you’ll fill me in on later?”

“Sure,” Falcon says, glancing at me and smiling. “There’s a story all right, but it’s one I’d like to keep all to myself.”

He reaches back to take my hand. “I like that idea too.”

“All right,” Joe says, rubbing his hands together. “Once we get your bags, I’ll get you back to your house so you can settle in, then you’ve got to be in the gym bright and early, Falc.”

“I know. I know. I’ll be there.”

“And I’ve got the doc coming in to—”

Falcon stops him immediately. “I don’t need to see the doctor. I know what he has to say. I don’t need to hear it ten more times, Joe. Call him and tell him he won’t be needed tomorrow and that I’ll see him on the road before the fight.”

“But—”

“Just do what I said, Joe. Damn.”

His tone is sterner than I’ve ever heard it before. It’s harsh and to the point. The tone of a boss, and to be honest, it was kind of hot...however...I don’t disagree with Joe. I wish he’d just see the damn doctor again so he can know for sure what he needs to do.

But it’s not my place to say anything. Not now. Not in front of Joe or in the middle of an airport.

We collect our bags from the carousel and weave our way through the very busy Los Angeles International Airport.

Falcon is noticed here and there, with a few people shouting his name, staring a little too long, or shaking his hand, but it’s not as chaotic as I thought it would be.

He told me on the flight here he isn’t noticed in public too much, which makes me feel better, because honestly, the idea of that scares me. The last thing I want or would want for him is for him to be unable to live a normal life because of his career.

We step out into the warm, California air and I take a deep breath. It’s warm, but not grossly humid like Georgia, and it’s not as quiet, to be sure, but there is something about it I immediately like.

“Welcome to California, baby,” Falcon says, placing a kiss to the crown of my head.

“You’re about to experience the most California thing in existence...traffic,” Joe adds, sliding on a pair of sunglasses before clicking a button on his key fob, sending the sounds of a car alarm echoing across the parking lot. “Ah. That’ll be us.”

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