Page 30 of Rowan's Renewal
Before we boarded, we visited the bathrooms, and when I changed our seats with the airline, I requested a row closer to the onboard Business Class toilets, too. We’re only two rows away from the currently green-lit door, and I hope that also gives Rowan some additional comfort. There are fewer people to fend off in our section of the plane, and I have spare pullups for him in case he still can’t make it in time. They’ll be easy enough to stash discretely into the inside pocket of his jacket if he needs them. And, if I get my way and he sleeps through some of the flight, hewillneed them.
After takeoff, we spend a little time ignoring our in-flight entertainment screens in favor of looking through some of ourphotos and talking about our favorite parts of the past week. I also show him some of the sights I saw before I got to the Sunshine Coast, watching his smile turn wistful.
“We should consider coming back in a year or two,” I say as his eyes take in the selfie I took outside of the Sydney Opera House. “I could show you some of the places I went, and maybe we could go to some places that are new to both of us.”
His eyes are wide as he looks up from his phone screen and at my face. “That’s…some serious future planning.”
My heart squeezes but I smile reassuringly. “I’m a planner, sweetheart. It’s part of my job as Daddy.”
I half expect him to argue or brush me off, but his smile turns bashful and he nods. “You’re good at that,” he murmurs, leaning in. “At being Daddy. If…if I haven’t made it clear…I love it.” He clears his throat and nibbles his lip, then murmurs, “I…I love you, actually.”
We wouldsoget caught if I dragged him into the bathroom to join the Mile High Club.
Unable to do that, because being arrested for public indecency or whatever consequence being caught fucking in an airplane bathroom gets you isn’t on my To Do list, I groan and wrap my hand around the back of his head, pulling him in for a searing kiss. I get hard, from the echoing words in my head and the delicious sensation of our tongues entwining, and I don’t stop. Not until I need to breathe.
Then I pull back and rest my forehead against his, replying, “I love you, too, Ro.”
Yes, it has only been a week, but how could I not fall head-over-heels in love with this man? He’s so sweet, and kind, and we’re so compatible. This week together has opened up a world of opportunity, and opened my eyes to just how very incompatible Jerry and I were. He was right to end things, and I have never been more grateful that he did.
Chapter Fifteen
“So,” Bianca drops into the chair across from my large desk, leaning back and crossing her ankles on the polished surface, the soles of her black heels facing me, “you look well rested.”
She marched into my office, all dark hair and attitude in her power suit, telling me that it was my lunch break and that we were eating in. That was three minutes ago, and after sweet talking my assistant into shuffling a couple of my afternoon meetings, I finally sat back down in my chair to face my best friend.
Over the week I spent in Australia, I replied to her texts sporadically. I sent her photos and vague updates about my activities, but I didn’t indulge the long deep and meaningful conversations that we usually share. I should have assumed that Bianca would come looking for me as soon as she knew I was back and active.
I smile at her, feeling exactly as she’s said. Rested. Happy. Relaxed.
Grateful.
“I am,” I nod, then reach for the paper bag she dropped on my desk, pulling out the chicken sandwiches and fries she bought from the café downstairs. I slide hers across to her and dive into mine with gusto. I sigh happily after my first bite. “Thank you.”
The words hold more weight than a simple thanks for lunch, and I know she hears it.
Sweeping her feet back off my desk, she scoots her chair forward and eyes me seriously. “You really did enjoy it?”
“I did. Way more than I thought I would. It was…” I pause, searching for the words to explain just how much her generous gift has changed my life. Choked up, and not just because I’ve taken another bite of my sandwich, I swallow and finish tearfully, “perfect, Bee.”
Her green eyes widen almost comically. “Rowan,” my name comes out on a wave on concern, “are you…Jesus, babe, are youcrying?”
Letting out a decidedly watery chuckle, I shrug and wipe at my eyes. “I, um,” I try to clear my throat while I blink rapidly. “I met someone.” If her eyes get any wider, I’m afraid they might fall out of their sockets. “And, um, I know it’s fast, and it sounds crazy, but I love him.”
“Whoa,” she breathes, awed. Then her brow crinkles and she leans forward. “Is he Australian? Oh, babe, is he still over there while you’re here?”
I shake my head, trying to get my emotions under control. “No,” I laugh again, sounding mildly manic even to my own ears. “Get this: he liveshere. Likeherehere. Half an hour from my apartment.”
“What?!”
“I know, right? What are the chances?”
“I’m gonna need the whole story.”
So, I spend the next few minutes giving her the summarized —and abridged to avoid all mention of myissuesor our kinkierplay— story. Bianca tuts and shakes her head through parts of it, scowling and muttering about the booking fiasco under her breath, and asks questions about Aaron which stall the process. But she’s smiling as I wrap the whole thing up, looking about as bewildered as I’ve felt since I met him.
“If I believed in fate…” she muses, biting into her sandwich again.
I swallow my own mouthful and nod. “I’m starting to think that maybe I should. The way everything had to line upjust rightfor us to meet…it feels like I’m living in my very own romcom.”
