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“Thanks,” John said in acknowledgment.
I smiled, trying to access my inner Coco Chanel and appear to be a proper lady. I was overwhelmed. It’s not like these people were really our friends. They were just a cool group of people I’d met a couple of times, and they seemed like they’d be a lot of fun to go on a ski trip with. Ashley was the essence of sweet—a total ray of sunshine even through the most challenging time of her life—but, honestly, I never would’ve associated her with this whole private jet situation.
“Champagne?” a stunning woman with a crisp, tailored suit greeted us. “I’m Kat, and I’ll be at your disposal for your flight today. Do you have any preferences?”
“Preferences?” I smiled and looked at John, out of my element in the biggest way possible.
“Yes, preferences for food before the meal is served,” she politely answered.
My eyes shifted to where the captain sat in his cockpit, his attention on the hundreds of lights shimmering on display around and in front of him. This was wild. I’d never boarded a plane and looked into the cockpit area.
As I looked around the cabin, I was surrounded by oiled wood and luxurious, supple, cream-colored leather. I’d only seen the inside of private jets on television, but there was no comparing this one to any of those. It was like the difference between a Rolls Royce and a Honda Accord. Amenities were laid out as far as I could see, and it seemed there were even personal cabins toward the back of the plane. I was awe-stricken.
“Ma’am?” Kat kindly spoke, no doubt having a good sense of humor about me being flabbergasted as I looked around.
“Sorry. It’s my first time on a private jet,” I admitted as she and John laughed, walking farther into the cabin. “Uh, preferences? No, I like everything.”
“Same here,” John added.
“Very good. Now, I hope the accommodations meet your needs and your flight is enjoyable.”
“I’m sure it will be,” I answered.
“Excellent,” she said. “I will allow you to make yourselves comfortable, but please do not hesitate to call for me should you need anything or have any questions.”
“I will. Thank you,” I said.
“Thanks, Kat,” John said. “Before you go too far, can you bring a tray of the La Madeline au Truffles I had shipped in exclusively for the trip?”
“Right away, Dr. Aster,” Kat said promptly.
I smiled like I knew what he’d had flown in and then turned to follow him through the plane.
“I’m so happy to be here with you,” John said, pulling me off to the side far enough to where I could see there was a business center in this jet. “I think the last time we did anything outside of work was before Thanksgiving?”
“It really has been that long,” I said.
He and I had spent the last month working like crazy to be able to take off this third week of December. Our Thanksgiving was spent on-call at the hospital, delivering little bundles of holiday joy, but it was perfect. There was no family stress or fighting over politics and turkey; it was just him and me…and a whole lot of babies.
It was a welcomed sense of togetherness that we both needed, though, even if it was at the hospital. The only actual date we’d been on was when I went to John’s house for the first time. We’d had the best night ever, watching old movies, laughing, swimming in his luxurious pool, and enjoying each other’s company with no pressure. We sat on the floor, wrapped in a blanket in front of John’s electric fireplace, and watched TV on oversized pillows.
As much as I hated for that to end, we knew we’d have to work overtime to be able to take this trip, and so we did. Now, at long last, we could enjoy our time off together.
“What kind of chocolates did you have flown in anyway?” I questioned, pulling John’s face out of my neck where he’d buried it.
His lips and face had found my neck and nuzzled it with every brief hug or encounter we’d had over the last few weeks. That seemed to be John’s favorite place, and I loved it.
“A special kind that’s going to get me laid as soon as we reach the house,” he chuckled. “God, it’s been almost two weeks since I’ve had the privilege of enjoying my lady,” he said, his hazel eyes sparkling and dancing with their usual excitement.
“Seriously,” I laughed, feeling his excitement for what I had also been aching for these past few days. “That’s a pretty fancy name for a chocolate.”
“It’s just a fancy French truffle. I love them, and I thought you would, too. Fancy flights call for fancy foods,” he teased with a handsome raising of his eyebrows and a snap of his fingers. “Come on, doll-face. Everyone is in the lounge, waiting to get this bird in the air and ski our asses off over the next couple of days. They’re a lively group since they opted to leave the kiddos behind with their nannies.”
“Wasn’t this supposed to be a Christmas trip?”
“It is,” a scratchy voice said. “You must be Mikayla. I’m Avery, Jim’s wife.”
She was stunning. Her eyes were a piercing icy blue color accentuated by her pitch-black, wavy bob haircut. Her sharp features would’ve made her seem intimidating if she didn’t exude a certain warmth.
