Page 85 of Boss Me

Cooper’s lips turned up in that neutral half-smile I’d gotten used to in California. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

Mateo stopped the car right on the tarmac of a part of the airport I hadn’t seen when I arrived. The Synergy corporate jet was parked a hundred feet away, bright white against dark clouds that churned offshore.

I’d seen the plane a couple of times before, when Cooper needed me to meet him at the airport to bring him something or to brief him before or after a flight but—I swallowed—I’d never flown in it. It wasn’t any bigger than the tiny plane I’d flown in from Charlotte Amalie, the one where I’d lost my lunch. And we had to fly through those dense, turbulent clouds and then across the country in it. I clutched Coco tighter.

Like he could read my mind, Cooper said, “Don’t worry. Emily will fly us around the storm. It’s a good thing we’re getting out ahead of it.”

Mateo turned in the driver’s seat. “You sure you don’t need me, Lito?”

“I’m sure whoever jumped Ben has either given up or is staying on the island. I’ve got a security team in San Francisco. We’ll be fine.”

Mateo nodded, but his eyes didn’t sparkle the way they usually did.

“Thank you.” Cooper reached into the front seat and gripped his cousin’s shoulder. “For protecting us. You can come visit us in San Francisco if we decide to stay.”

From the tightness in his voice, the last thing Cooper wanted was to stay.

Mateo must not have heard it. He grinned. “I’d like that.”

“We might be back before you get a chance to visit.” Cooper’s voice was gruff, the way it always sounded in California. I missed the easy melody I’d gotten too used to on the island.

I held Cooper’s hand. “We’ll talk about it once you’ve got things worked out at Synergy.” We had a big talk in our future. But we could work through it. If I could get him to take more frequent vacations, he could soak up the sun and let go the pressures of home. Hell, he could retire if he wanted. I could never support us at the level Cooper was used to, but once I finished my degree, I could find a job that would keep food on the table. And Cooper’s ample savings and investment income could take care of the rest.

“Let’s go.” Cooper opened the door and stepped out.

I released Coco. He jumped from the SUV and shook himself while I clambered out then braced myself against the gusting wind. I gripped the end of his leash and let the gale blow me to the back of the car to grab my suitcase.

Mateo hefted both suitcases as easily as I’d have lifted a couple of laptop bags. “I’ve got these. You go on up.”

Cooper waited for me a few steps away, my laptop bag over his shoulder. The sun hid behind the threatening clouds that reflected dimly in his sunglasses. Without the bright sunlight I’d gotten used to, he looked duller, faded like he used to look in the office.

He held out his hand and, gratefully, I clasped it. Hardly bothered by the whipping wind, he walked briskly to the boarding stairs and ascended them. I trailed him, clinging to the railing as I climbed the steep steps. At the top, I sucked in my last breath of the fresh island air. Our paradise, where I’d fallen in love at last with a man who loved me back even if he couldn’t say the words.

We ducked into the plane. Cool, dry air and a warm gray interior met us. On one side was a couch, complete with blue throw pillows. It faced a table with a big-screen television above it. Toward the back of the plane were groupings of squashy leather chairs, also in gray neutrals.

Cooper led the way past the couch to a pair of seats that faced each other on the left. He sat facing forward, and I took the seat across from him. Coco sniffed the seat then jumped up beside me.

The steward approached us. “Mr. Fallon. Mr. Levy-Walters. What can I get you? Bourbon? Juice?”

It wasn’t yet nine in the morning. I raised an eyebrow at Cooper. Bourbon?

“Water for me, please. Ben?”

“Orange juice.”

The steward said, “We have guava juice if you’d prefer it.”

“Yes, please.” I held it together just long enough for the steward to disappear into the galley before I turned wide eyes on Cooper. “You had them get me guava juice?”

“It’s a private plane. They stock what I ask them to.”

Cooper Fallon lived very differently from me. What else would I have to get used to?

The steward returned with our drinks. “Can I get you anything else?”

Cooper silently checked with me and then said, “No, thank you. And we’re ready to depart when the pilot is.”

“I’ll let her know.” The steward walked through a door at the front of the plane.

---