Page 143 of Hearts Storm

“Bet you say that to all the girls you’ve done this with.”

Heat bleeds into my tone as I give her a serious look. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever done this with.”

The startled look on her face makes me grin as I pull back on the collective and ease the cyclic forward, lifting off the tarmac.

As the ground drops away in a stomach-lurching way that never gets old, Reyna lets out this little gasp that goes straight to my dick. I bank us left, circling the airfield once before pointing the nose east toward the mountains.

The airfield is small. Just a single asphalt runway with a couple of hangars. Its control tower is usually manned by Kyle, a retired Air Force guy who spends most of his shifts watching NASCAR reruns. I keep my 4 passenger Bell 206 here because it’s cheaper than the municipal airport and a hell of a lot closer to Lakeside.

“You own this?” Reyna asks, fingers digging into her thighs as we climb.

Fuck. I can’t wait to do the same.

“Yep. Bought it used about three years ago. Had to rebuild the engine, replace the tail rotor assembly, and rewire half the avionics. But she’s mine.” I pat the instrument panel. “Named her Bea.”

“Bea?”

“After my grandma. She’s the only woman who ever scared the shit out of me.”

Reyna’s laugh is warm and bright. “I love that.”

When we clear the tree line, the whole valley opens up below us. From up here, Lakeside looks like a tiny toy town. Main Street is a neat little ribbon cutting through the grid, the lake a dark blue mirror reflecting the sun as it slowly makes its descent. I can see the fire station, the square roof of Summit Studio, and The Brew’s parking lot already filling up with the Saturday night crowd.

“God, it’s beautiful,” she gasps.

I glance over at her. The sunset is painting her face in gold and rose, catching in her hair that’s styled loose around her shoulders. She’s got her bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes shining with delight. And it’s in that moment, I know I’d fly this woman to the moon if she asked.

Banking north, I follow the ridge line toward a spot I’d scouted a few weeks back. The meadow sits on a flat stretch of land about two thousand feet up, tucked between two rolling hills. From the air, it looks like someone took a paintbrush to the earth with swaths of crimson poppies and golden balsam root bleeding together in a carpet of color.

Twenty minutes later, I bring Bea down in a gentle descent, the wildflowers whipping and flattening under the wind from the rotors.

When the landing struts kiss the grass, I cut the engine. The rotors slow to a lazy spin, then stop, filling the cabin with stunned silence.

Reyna’s eyes widen into huge pools of arctic blue. “Wow.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I grin, unstrapping my harness.

I reach behind my seat and grab the basket I packed before our date. A chilled bottle of champagne, two crystal flutes and a blanket. I’d stashed it in the back before we left the airfield, tucked behind the rear seats where she couldn’t see it.

“Brex.” Her voice is soft, almost reverent. “You planned all this?”

“Maybe.” I hop out and circle around to her side, offering my hand. She takes it, and I help her down, threading her fingers with mine.

The sun is hovering right at the ridge line now, throwing long shadows across the meadow, with the scent of wildflowers floating on a cool, gentle breeze.

Spreading the blanket out on a flat patch of grass, we both take a seat. Popping the cork from the bottle, I pour us each a glass and hand her one.

“To your first helicopter ride.”

“To Bea,” she counters, clinking her glass against mine.

The champagne is crisp and cold, and Reyna closes her eyes as she swallows, a small sigh escaping her lips. She takes another sip, then another, and I watch the tension drain from her shoulders as the bubbles do their work.

I wait until she’s halfway through her glass before I ask what I’ve been hesitating to ask.

“How are you feeling? After everything. Do you truly understand your sister’s death wasn’t your fault?”

For a second, she doesn’t answer. Just stares into her glass.