Page 23 of All Fall Down

Chapter Nine

My hand stays tightly clutchedin Jameson’s until we reach the airfield. The only time I let it go is to send Josie a text that I won’t be back tonight. I spot Maddox’s bulky form waiting by the plane. I guess there’s no way that I’m going anywhere without protection. Jameson gives me an apologetic smile as he releases my hand, but he’s out of the car and around to my door before the heat of his touch has fully dissipated. This time, when his fingers knit through mine, I suspect he won’t be letting go.

We climb the stairs into the main cabin of the jet together. Jameson pauses to whisper instruction to Maddox and the rest of the crew.

I’ve been in the West family private jet before, but that fact does nothing to lessen the excitement I feel now. Luxurious private travel had usually been available to me when it came to one route only: Las Vegas to Palm Springs and back again. Knowing this plane could take me anywhere is the best birthday present I could ever ask for.

“We’re going to take off soon, Duchess.” Jameson guides me to a cushy leather chair, and I laugh when he begins to buckle my seat restraint.

“I can do that myself,” I assure him.

He does it anyway, kissing me on the forehead in the process. “I have to protect what’s mine.”

He isn’t saying it, but I know the last few days of separation nearly drove him crazy. If it hadn’t been for Josie, I’d probably be stark raving mad as well. It’s going to take more than a few serious conversations to heal the damage that’s been done to our relationship, but right now I think we’re simply relieved to be together. We can piece together the events of the last week later.

Jameson takes the seat next to mine, and I raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t buckle up.

“Do I need to buckle you in?” I ask.

He heaves a sigh and fastens the safety belt.

“Just protecting what’s mine,” I tease him. The butterflies in my stomach take flight as the jet begins to wheel down the runway.

“Are you okay?” he asks next to me, and I realize I’m clutching the arms of my seat.

“This isn’t how I saw my day going,” I admit. Heading on a romantic adventure hadn’t been on my radar.

“Monroe packed a bag of your things that you left at my house.”

I think that information is supposed to reassure me, but I’ve met his sister. I can’t imagine what she thinks is necessary for a weekend holiday. Beggars can’t be choosers, so I cross my fingers there are clean panties. Anything else is cake.

He holds my hand until we’re in the air. As soon as I feel the landing gear lock into place, I’m out of my seat, and scrambling onto his lap. Strong arms wrap around my waist as I straddle him, and I feel even safer than I did before.

“I missed you,” I murmur. I can’t seem to bring myself to meet his eyes because Jameson’s right. I didn’t have faith. I’d been the one to nearly give up on us. I can blame my crappy childhood all I want, but I chose to believe the worst.

“Look at me, Duchess,” he commands in a low voice, and I dare to lift my face to his. “It’s behind us now.”

Such simple words, but they carry so much meaning. We’d already faced what felt like an insurmountable obstacle. Whatever comes next, I know we will have each other.

“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.

“No, you deserve more.”

I take a deep breath, a leap of faith, and choose to believe him.

“What have you been doing while you hid from me this week?” Jameson asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I nuzzle against his hand. This week has been full of terrible and right now, I want to be with him.

“Talk to me,” he urges. “When we were apart, I nearly went crazy wondering what you were doing.”

“I was hiding from my life,” I confess. My life had managed to intrude anyway, and it will keep doing so. “Let’s see, my mom is getting a divorce.”

Jameson’s eyes darken, and I know he’s thinking about the night he saved me from my stepfather. He clears his throat. “Because of what he did to you and your sister?”

I nod as I begin to feel tears pricking my eyes. “She refuses to take the information to the police.”

“I can handle that,” he practically growls.