Page 55 of Backed By You
I let Callie go first, my hand finding the small of her back as she climbs the stairs. The interior of the jet is nothing like I expected—all cream leather seats and polished wood. It’s more like a living room than an aircraft.
“Drinks after takeoff?” Brittany asks.
“Coffee would be great,” Callie responds, settling into one of the plush seats. She looks at me still standing and taking it all in. “Beau?”
“Coffee,” I echo, finally lowering myself into the seat beside her. “Black.”
As Brittany moves toward the galley, I lean in close to Callie. “Anything else you forgot to mention?”
She bites her lip. “I may have downplayed things a bit.”
“A bit,” I repeat, raising a brow at the luxury surrounding us.
The pilot emerges from the cockpit. “Miss Ryan, good to see you. We’re cleared for takeoff in about ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Tim,” she says. “This is Beau.”
We exchange nods, and Tim returns to the cockpit. Brittany secures the door, and the engines begin to hum.
“No safety demonstration?” I ask.
Callie shakes her head. “Not necessary. Basically, don’t unbuckle when the light is on, and if we crash, those are the emergency exits,” she points toward two doors.
“Comforting,” I mutter.
She takes my hand, her earlier sadness momentarily replaced by gentle teasing. “Don’t tell me the big, bad ex-military man is afraid of flying?”
“Not afraid,” I correct her. “Just prefer having a parachute when I’m this high up.”
She squeezes my hand. “You’ve jumped out of planes?”
“That’s classified,” I say with a straight face, then crack a smile when her eyes widen. “Yes, many times.”
The jet begins to taxi, and her grip tightens slightly. For all her casual familiarity with this world, there’s a subtle tension in her shoulders as we accelerate down the runway. “Nervous?”
She gives me a half-smile. “Not about flying. Just…everything else.”
I slide my hand over her thigh and squeeze. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She slides her arm around mine and leans her head against my shoulder as the jet lifts smoothly into the air. “Is that all you are?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with everything we haven’t formally defined. “No,” I say simply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s not all I am, sweetheart.”
Twenty.
Callie
“Sheaispickingusup. We’ll probably grab lunch before she takes us to the hotel,” I tell Beau when the plane touches down in California. It’s a little after eleven and I’m starving. “She’s my best friend, so be nice.”
He gives me a scowly look. “I am nice.”
I snort a laugh and pat his hand still on my thigh. It hasn’t moved an inch the entire flight. “When meeting new people? Sure, you are, sweetie.”
He huffs.
“I also texted you our itinerary for tomorrow,” I say. “Today is more of a down day. Get settled in, outfit prep, relax before the crazy.”
“How crazy are we talking?” he asks, unbuckling his seatbelt as the plane taxies to a stop.
