And not just any woman.
Raina.
I’m holding hands with the one woman I denied for years.
When we got back to Madrid, I drove straight to the rental car agency and returned the Aston Martin, made a call and arranged to have our bags delivered to the airport, then we walked to a nearby restaurant.
To say dinner was a surprise is an understatement. The conversation flowed easily, and although I’ve always known Raina had a brilliant mind, this conversation was different.
She asked me about work and I told her about the trials and tribulations of working with an all-female clientele, while alsoworking alongside a pompous asshole who thinks he’s God's gift to the rich and famous.
I asked her about her fear of flying, and she explained how when she was eleven, her parents put her on a flight to spend the summer abroad in a program. It was her first time flying alone, and there was intense turbulence that caused the plane to quickly descend several thousand feet, but they couldn’t avoid it. For what felt like hours after, the plane jolted through the sky so aggressively, the safety masks were expelled. It terrified her. She thought they would crash. Since then, she’s only flown through the night, accompanied by anxiety medication and a sleeping pill.
As she told me the story, my heart ached, and a surge of protectiveness coursed through my veins.
All through dinner I was present—attentive. Not trying to talk myself off a ledge or figuring out how to get away as quickly as I could because I was afraid to be in her presence for too long. This wasn’t like any other date I’d had with other women.
I’ll admit I was afraid. I fed myself a preconceived notion about Raina for years, telling myself I couldn’t have her, and listed the reasons—X, Y, and Z.
I believed those reasons.
It’s clear I didn’t know my ass from my head, and I certainly didn’t recognize how much of an idiot I was being.
Vinnie is going to give me so much shit for this.
Raina’s laughter is infectious. Listening to her happiness all night while getting lost in her eyes as they shimmered in the flickering candlelight that graced the table wasperfection.
I’ve been surprising myself with the thoughts that have been running through my mind. Maybe it was the ambiance, or maybe—just maybe—I’ve woken the fuck up.
Regardless, I’ll never deny myself her again.
I just need to get her through her divorce first.
Now, as the cab pulls off at the exit for the airport, I direct the driver to the area where Sully’s plane awaits, hoping what little Spanish I know is enough to make sense.
“Did you take your medication?” I squeeze Raina’s hand.
She looks over at me and smiles. “Yeah, about twenty minutes ago.”
“Good,” I say to her, then tell the driver, in English, because I have no idea what it would be in his language, “You can stop up ahead.” He nods and pulls closer to the jet before putting the cab in park.
At the same time, the driver and I both exit the car. He heads to the trunk to pull out our bags, and I go to Raina’s door to open it for her.
“Thank you.” She accepts my hand and uses it to pull herself out. I catch myself staring at her legs, salivating over those boots she’s still wearing and daydreaming about the way she left them on as she rode me in the sacristy. That image will forever be burned in my mind and go down in history as the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Tipping the driver, I take our bags from him and roll them over to the boarding stairs. Raina follows behind me, staring up at the aircraft.
Stepping aside so she can pass, I tip my head toward the plane. “You first.”
“This isn't what I imagined Sully's jet looking like,” she says as she steps onto the plane, assessing it with wonder.
“What did you think it’d be like?”
“Black satin sheets and a heart-shaped bed with a mirror on the ceiling.”
A boisterous laugh tumbles out of me, and both of our eyes widen as it does. A sly grin overtakes her face before she continues exploring.
When was the last time I laughed like that?
