I narrowed my eyes on his blank stare as he watched his finger swirling circles on my chest. “Okay, I guess you could worry about that. But I assure you—”
“You can’t assure me of anything.” He lifted his gaze to mine. “Two years ago. There was a bad storm. My flight was struck by lightning while we were descending toward the airport. We lost power. Blew an engine and suffered a good bit of damage to the body.” His hand stilled as his eyes filled with overwhelming fear at the memory. “There was this loud banging rhythm from a piece of metal flapping in the wind, and all I could think about was that it was going to be the bassline of my death.”
I blinked in shock. “No fucking way. AirUSA Flight 219?”
He chuckled humorlessly. “That would be the one.”
Awestruck, I announced, “I would have given anything to be on that flight.”
He curled his lip in utter disbelief before rolling away.
I caught his elbow. “Henry, that flight is legendary in the world of aeronautics. No one, and I mean no one, should have survived that flight.”
“Yeah. I got that much when I was wearing an oxygen mask and praying to a God, who obviously hates me,” he scoffed.
“No.” I tugged on his arm until he turned back to face me. “See, you and I, we look at this differently. Sure, lightning is considered an act of God. Fine. But the real act of God I see is that you had Captain John Wyatt in the cockpit that night. That man is the most talented pilot I’ve ever met. He was quite possibly the only person in the world who could have gotten that plane back on the ground with zero casualties. And, out of the thousands of pilots who could have been behind the controls, you got him. That was your act of God.” I laughed quietly. “I can’t believe you were on that flight. The jealousy actually hurts a little.”
His mouth slacked open. “Jealousy?”
“I’ve heard all the stories at least a dozen times, but I’d have given anything to experience that landing firsthand.”
His lips formed a hard line. “Is there something wrong with you? It was the most terrifying experience of my life, not a rollercoaster at an amusement park.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”
“You should have heard the cries from the other passengers, Evan. There was this mom with her baby…just shrieking.” He paused when the emotions lodged in his throat. “The whole ordeal lasted only a few minutes. But, for those minutes…we were all dead.”
I tugged on his arm until he begrudgingly stopped trying to escape my bed. “Okay, okay. I get it. I swear I do. We just have a different outlook on things. I’m sorry.” I pointedly held his gaze until he relaxed. And when he did, I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips until his body sagged. “I’m sorry,” I repeated softly. “I’m sure it was scary.”
“Terrifying,” he corrected.
“Terrifying,” I confirmed. “But did you ever get a chance to meet Wyatt afterwards?”
“Yeah. I thanked him. Donated a bunch of money in his name. Shit like that. I actually harassed him for months to be my new pilot. I’d fly with him again. I threw a ton of money at him, actually.” His entire face lit as his lips lifted up at the corners. “He told me to fuck off in three different languages.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. That. Smile. Millions of people were captivated by just the image of it on television and magazines, but up close, with only mere inches separating us, it was damn near spellbinding.
Henry was afraid to fly.
I was afraid of that smile. And, the longer I spent with him, I was starting to fear the man behind it—in the best possible way.
Shaking my stupor off, I replied, “I’m surprised it wasn’t more. He’s fluent in at least six.”
His brows knitted together. “You know him?”
“Yep. He taught me everything I know about flying.”
“Really?” he drawled in shocked interest.
I chuckled. “He’s my dad, Henry. Well, stepfather, really. But same thing. He’s the only dad I’ve ever known.”
He gaped in disbelief. “Shut up.”
I laughed again. “Is he the one who told you to use Jackson for your pilots?”
He nodded quickly.
“Yeah. That makes sense. I always thought it was strange that a big shot like you used him. He’s good, but he mainly charters to animal transports and medical emergencies. He and my dad have been best friends since high school. John got me the gig with Jackson when my first job fell through.”
“No fucking way,” he breathed.
“Scout’s honor.” I lifted my hand in a Vulcan V.
His smile was epic.
If the question had been how long I wanted to fight, that smile would have been the minute I threw in the towel.
“You do realize your dad basically set us up. It was fate, Evan.” He teasingly waggled his eyebrows.
“Hardly.” Dipping my head, I caught his mouth and mumbled against his lips, “I think we should stop talking about my dad though.”
He moaned when our tongues glided together.