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I am. And on some level, I realize that introducing her to my new family is more than a tactic to win her over. I want them to approve of her. And I want her to like them. I want to blend her into this new family of mine because what I feel for Nia is more than friendship. It’s definitely more than lust, too. It doesn’t have a name, but whatever it is, no matter how unsettling, I want more.

Chapter Eight

Plane over the Pacific Ocean

Monday, November 20

* * *

I’m so relieved when Monday evening rolls around and I finally have Nia all to myself—at least for the duration of this flight. I’m normally not a fan of being thirty-something thousand feet in the air for hours at a time. My logical mind understands how avionics function, but I still have trouble rationalizing the safety of something inherently dangerous like flying.

Beside me, Nia sips a glass of water and taps away on her laptop. She’s been quiet since we took off. Maybe it has something to do with the way our last date ended. And my behavior Saturday night at the BBB Revue. I might have stayed less than two feet from Nia every moment I could. I might also have snarled whenever Kyle tried to talk to her. And I might have told him to back the fuck off when he walked into her dressing room uninvited after their performance.

Not my finest moment.

Why do I turn caveman every time a man looks at her? I can’t understand it. I’ve never behaved this way in my life.

Guys often looked at Becca. She was a beautiful willow of a woman with long dark hair and bright eyes who always appeared as if she needed saving. Beings with Y chromosomes everywhere responded to that, and it never bothered me. But men don’t look at Nia as if they want to save her. She’s too obviously capable to need their help. They look at her as if they’re desperate to fuck her. I’m not okay with that. Not at all.

“You’re supposed to be on vacation,” I remind her.

She slants a scowl my way. “Says the guy who spent the last hour reading the October financials.”

“I told Bas I’d do it over the weekend. I didn’t get to it.” When she questions me with a raised brow, my gut clenches. “Because, I admit, I was wound up about Kyle.”

“Clearly.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not thrilled,” she admits. “Look, if I wanted to be with Kyle, I would be. The fact I haven’t let him touch me in nearly two years, despite the fact I see him at least twice a week, should tell you something about my non-feelings for him.”

I understand her point, but it has no effect on my perspective. “He has feelings for you.”

Which are too much like my own.

Nia shrugs. “That’s his issue, and we’ve talked about it. He’s hung up because I broke things off, and he’s not used to hearing no. I already know that if I took him back, he’d lose interest in a month or less. We played that game once before, and I’m not doing it again. I did the rebound thing with him after I broke up with Mateo. I was sad about my mom’s passing and the breakup…and I wanted comfort. But it was a disaster. There’s nothing Kyle could say or do to win me back again, and you need to let it go. Besides, if you’re determined to marry me for purely practical reasons, why does any of this matter to you?”

I have no answer and no basis to refute her. I sit back, blink, process as she resumes tapping out her email. Why does it bother me?

“I don’t know. I just… I’ve never been through this.”

She pauses. “No one ever hit on Becca?”

“That’s not what I mean. Men hit on her all the time. It just never bothered me.” Probably because I knew Becca had never had sex with any of those men who pursued her. But Nia has already assured me that she’s not thinking about her exes when we’re together; I’m the one who keeps bringing them up. She’s right; I need to let it go.

“There’s no reason for it to bother you now. I’ve been cheated on enough to know that it sucks. In my mind, going behind your lover’s back to get some on the side before breaking it off is shitty. If we actually get married someday, I’ll be with you, totally committed to you. That’s the way I function. If there ever comes a day I decide I want someone else, I’ll tell you to your face before anything happens. I expect the same of you.”

I’ve never had a problem with commitment. “Of course. You have my word. And I’ll try to keep my”—jealousy?—“issues with other men to a minimum.”

“Thanks.”

Nia doesn’t say much for the rest of the flight, and I’m pensive. I try to lose myself in the listings of beautiful island properties Maxon and Griff have sent in advance. I’d like to get a living situation nailed down while I’m here. It’s practical to be prepared to hit the ground running in January. And it gives me something to focus on now besides all the ways Nia unsettles me.

But price per square footage and number of bedrooms don’t hold my interest for long. I pick one that seems more than livable and would probably be my best investment. Then my gaze strays to Nia.

Finally, she closes the lid on her laptop with a sigh. “What’s wrong now?”

The fact that she realizes I’m struggling with disquiet, despite the fact I didn’t say a word, says how well she knows me. “I’m not sure.”