A truth shared is a hurt halved.
We made it in time for dinner. It wasn’t an easy task. Isaac isn’t a man who understands the word ‘quickie.’ If I hadn’t reminded him of our promise to have dinner with Callie and tuck her into bed, we may not have.
With our night taken up by a toddler who wasn’t tired since she had a two-hour nap on her bedroom floor and our frantic rush to make our seven AM flight on time, we haven’t had time to discuss why jealousy commenced our exchange last night before an undeniable declaration of love utterly annihilated it.
We’ve fooled around in numerous modes of transport, but last night went above and beyond anything I’ve experienced—even our first time in the plane, which I’m recalling in graphic detail while climbing the stairs of one of Isaac’s private jets.
Isaac is holding my hand as he always does, coaxing me with his soul-stealing gray eyes, but with Callie’s fear as strong as mine, I’ve got to force my legs to move instead of having them swept out from beneath me.
Callie’s fear is understandable. The last time she was bundled into a plane, it was by two big burly men she’d never met before. If her guardian angel wasn’t at the other end waiting for her, I doubt we would have entered this plane without her releasing the tears her eyes are struggling to contain.
“It’s okay, Callie Cat. Isaac will never let anything happen to you.”
Isaac squeezes my sweaty hand, wordlessly advising me my assurance goes both ways. He might have Callie clinging to his chest, but he’s here for us both. The way he carefully places Callie into the specially-built child restraint he had installed for her before assisting me in securing my belt proves this without a doubt.
“Breathe, Isabelle. Big, controlled breaths.” My body instinctively jumps to the clipped command in his tone. The fresh air in my lungs feels revitalizing, but it has nothing on the smirk Isaac releases at my submissiveness. “Good girl.”
He brushes the back of his fingers across my thankfully dry cheeks before filling the seat between Callie and me. We’re taking up the only three-seater chair at the back of the jet. Hunter, his girlfriend, Paige, Dr. Jae, Catherine, and Hawke are in the recliners at the front.
Hawke’s inclusion in our dynamic was a last-minute decision. The bobbing of his knee reveals he’s as nervous as me. His apprehension centers more around returning to Rochdale, though, not a fear of flying. From what I’ve gathered, he hasn’t been back there since his wife, Marjorie, and still-born son, Malcolm, were buried.
My eyes drift to Isaac. “Is Hawke going to be okay?”
I’m not just deflecting my panic to another person. I’m feeding my quintessential need to know everything. Although Isaac hasn’t technically experienced the loss of a partner—Ophelia never died—he still has an understanding of what Hawke is going through. It is, at times, as if Ophelia is still deceased. Excluding the results of the paternity test of her son, Bobby, Isaac never talks about her. Not once. I’d be suspicious if I weren’t more relieved.
Isaac takes a few moments to deliberate on a response before shifting his focus to me. “I think so. Today is a big step. Since it’s in the right direction, I can’t see it doing him more harm than good.” His gorgeous eyes dance between mine. “What about you? Are you going to be okay?”
The crinkles in his trousers smooth when I smile. “Why wouldn’t I be? I have you by my side.”
I tilt to the left so I can lock my eyes with Callie, who is hidden by Isaac’s mouthwatering frame, wanting her to be a part of our duo. She’s out cold, snuggled into her stuffed bunny. Once again, I understand. Bravery is the most exhausting of all emotions.
Now is a perfect time to recommence the conversation Isaac and I were having last night, but with my mind still reeling that he’s willing to have his vasectomy reversed for me, I steer it in another direction.
“I’m assuming the pissing contest you had with Ryan yesterday means you’re aware Brandon is back in town.” Although I’m not technically asking a question, Isaac dips his chin in agreement. “Who told you?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal he’s informed everything as it’s happening. “Ryan called Regan—"
“Regan?” I’m so bombarded by confusion, I barely notice the plane has commenced taxiing toward the runway. “I thought he called Alex?”
Isaac smirks. “He called Regan, but since she was with Alex, and he caught the gist of their conversation, he seconded her phone.”
“Huh?” I sound shocked. Justly so. “I thought Regan was the alpha of their duo?”
Untapped desire courses through my veins when Isaac throws his head back and laughs. He has such a manly, sexy laugh. It has me squirming like a saint having her first orgasm. “I thought the same thing. I guess all alphas eventually learn there’s no such thing as superiority when you find the right partner.”
I pray for the plane to hurry the hell up and get into the sky when he scrubs his thumb over the dip in my top lip. He doesn’t need to speak for me to know the words he’s dying to say—I still want to bite that lip.
“Isabelle…”
“Yes, Isaac.” My voice is needy and hot and one hundred percent daft.
Thank goodness Isaac finds my stupidity endearing. “Ask the questions I see in your eyes before I prove how a little strip of material will never save you from me.”
Dying in a fiery crash doesn’t seem so sinister if I get to do it while being claimed by Isaac. At least I’ll die happy. Fortunately—or should I say regrettably?—Callie’s faint snores return a smidgen of the composure I forever lose in Isaac’s presence. This is also an important subject matter that shouldn’t be swept under the rug.
“Did you block Brandon from contacting me?” Nerves jumble my words, but so does confusion. Brandon is a very computer-literate person. If he wanted to find me, he could have found a way, so why didn’t he?
“I had Hunter install an app on your phone which monitors and blocks calls and messages if required.” Isaac talks quicker when my lips thin. “But I’ve yet to utilize it. I’m trying to quell my vehement jealousy when it comes to you. It’s a slow process.”
