Page 68 of Bagging the Blueliner
“Are we going somewhere?” If we were, that was news to me.
Standing, she walked past me, throwing casually over her shoulder, “You didn’t think I was going to sit here in this dump all week, did you? Grab your passport. We leave as soon as I’m clean.”
Grab my passport? What is she up to?
Trailing her as she walked upstairs and into the master bedroom, I found my suitcase beside hers.
Did she pack for me?
My brain was short-circuiting trying to deal with Hannah planning a trip for us when she stripped down to nothing and walked naked into the ensuite bathroom.
Forcing my feet to move, I followed, peering at her through the glass wall of the walk-in shower. Opening the door, steam hit me in the face as I asked, “Where are we going?”
Pushing the water out of her eyes and through her hair, she replied, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Watching the water sluice down her body’s soft curves, I was tempted to join her. But if our earlier interaction was any indication, she wasn’t going to entertain it. Closing the glass door, I went into my walk-in closet to grab my passport from the safe.
What in the world did she have up her sleeve this time?
Insisting that I drive, Hannah guided me toward the airport. When I was about to get off at the ramp for long-term parking, she stopped me, telling me to keep going. Guiding me, she gave turn-by-turn directions until we pulled up to the private airstrip off the main airport.
Looking over at her in the passenger seat, I sighed. “Hannah, you can’t afford this.”
Smirking, she replied, “Did you not pay attention during orientation when I mentioned I’m only using you for your money? This girl’s got champagne taste on a beer budget with extremely rich friends. Just trying to keep up.”
I knew she was kidding. That was why most women wanted to be with me—for my money.
Hannah waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll get a payment request for our share.”
That caught my attention. “Our share?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What did you do?” Panic began to set in, and my heart rate skyrocketed as I gripped the wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Hannah jumped out as soon as I parked the SUV. “Grab the bags, will you?”
By the time I made it inside the private terminal, Hannah was done talking to the front desk. “Come on. Our plane is waiting.”
Leading the charge through the sliding glass doors onto the massive concrete tarmac, she made a beeline for a small private plane. The crew must have seen our approach because a flight attendant came down the short steps leading into the plane to take our bags. Hannah nodded in acknowledgment but blew right past her since I had the bags.
Halfway up the stairs, I heard her yell, “Who’s ready to get ship-faced?”
Oh boy. Apparently, wherever we were going involved a boat. The idea of Hannah drunk on the open sea seemed borderline dangerous. The odds of her falling overboard were too high for me to even think about relaxing.
So much for a week off.
Climbing the rest of the stairs quickly to discover who her captive audience and travel partners were, I froze when, over Hannah’s head, I found myself staring directly into Jaxon’s narrowed brown eyes.
Forget Coach. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot from Jaxon’s death glare.
He turned to look at his wife, seated beside him. “What happened to Lucy and Preston?”
This was getting worse. He wasn’t expecting us.
Before Natalie could respond, Hannah opened her big mouth. “Lucy turned green at the mention of spending a long weekend on a boat. So, instead, you get me! Aren’t you lucky?”
“Oh, I’m something all right,” he grumbled.
