“And Kyle will understand,” Caine says.
“But it will show favoritism.” You can’t just take time off when you start a new job.
Caine tilts his head and draws his brows together. “He has two employees. You don’t think he’d do the same for Rabecca?” he asks, his tone patient and calm. My heart settles when he brings his hand to my face and cradles my cheek. “What’s really on your mind?”
“My dad’s stuff—what is she going to do with Dad’s things?” I ask.
Dad was all over that house. Had she already tossed everything? Was there anything left of him there?
“Dad isn’t a shirt,” Jack says.
“Don’t be a dick,” Caine says, his voice stern and hard as his head jerks to my brother.
“Sorry, defense mechanism,” Jack replies.
“I don’t have…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t have money for a ticket, I’m gonna take you back to our room and spank you,” Caine interrupts. He grips my chin tightly, forcing my gaze to him.
“Ew,” Jack mutters, his upper lip curled.
Fuck, well, I guess we’re going to Seattle. But maybe I’ll fight it just a little bit longer…
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mikayla
“Um—when you said you found a flight to Seattle, you didn’t mention that we were flying on a private jet!” I say as we walk up the steps of the jet.
I turn around and look at him, shocked at the size of the plane. Caine just gives me a sly smile and smacks my butt.
My hands shake as I hold the railing. My eyes scan thedoorway, and they widen in shock at what I see.
Caine takes my hand in his, kissing the top as we walk to our seats. Jack takes the seat across from me.
“You really scored in the boyfriend department,” Jack says, waggling his brows as we sit back.
We were raised in a fairly affluent community. But a private jet? That was never an option for my family. We hardly wanted for anything. I thought we were wealthy. I mean, I don’t even have student loans. But a private plane?
Fuck my life. This is too much! It’s kind of overwhelming. Those earlier anxieties about our financial situation… they’re rearing their ugly head.
“Stop,” Caine says, taking my hand again.
I turn and look up at him, and the man winks at me.
“Seriously?” I ask incredulously. How can he be so blasé about this?
“Do you love me?”
“Of course!”
“Then again, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “Let it go.” He says it so slowly but firmly that it’s annoying.
“That’s what she said,” my brother blurts, and I can’t help but giggle.
The unmistakable scent of new leather hangs in the air. I take it all in. Wood-paneled finishes, light grey leather seats. This plane is no joke.
“Hello, Mr. Montgomery,” a flight attendant says as we put our seat belts on. “I’m April. I’ll be assisting you today. Can I get youanything?” she asks, not paying me any attention at all. I swear she’s drooling over him!
