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“You will,” I assure. “I’m with you.”
She looks down, and I notice a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re still protective of me.”
I smirk. “Did you think that would change? That’ll never change.”
Her head flies up, and everything seems to fade as we stare at each other quietly.
“Ready to go, kids?” the pilot says, breaking our intense connection with his entrance.
“Yeah.”
Cassie bobs when I look at her.
We follow the older man to the airstrip. He briefs us on safety protocols, then we pile into a helicopter.
Cassie flushes out a long breath after strapping up, rechecking them when the pilot starts the chopper.
“It’s okay,” I assure her and hold her hand.
She squeezes it in return, giving me a nervous smile. “Whose idea was this again?”
I laugh short. “Stop. You’re going to love it.”
A shaky breath gusts past her lips as we lift into the air. Her grip on my hand tightens, and I notice her chest rising and falling deeply.
She gradually begins to relax as we fly from the area, staring in awe at the towns and nature preserves that stretch for miles.
“Approaching Danbury,” the pilot announces.
Cassie gasps as we come onto Candlewood Lake soon after. “Wow.” She takes out her phone to snap pictures.
“Right,” I laugh, just as amazed.
We’re so close that her sweet, floral perfume fills my nostrils. While she’s admiring the beauty below, I admire what’s right next to me.
Cassie doesn’t budge or look around when I lean even closer. I lightly press my nose at her curls, inhaling a mix of tropical fruits and flowers. I struggle with the desire to toil my fingers in them, brush them aside to nuzzle her neck and trace her skin with my tongue.
I wish I could. But that’s not right. We’re family, and I’d never wish that away.
Our pilot continues over river trails and a reservation that seems to go on forever before setting down on a private landing strip.
“See you guys in an hour and thirty,” he informs us after shutting down the helicopter.
“Sure,” I agree.
I climb out and help Cassie down.
“Why did we stop?” she asks with a pinch between her brows, fixing her shorts.
“I told them we’re having lunch here,” I answer while motioning to the place.
“Oh.”
“Come on.” I hold her hand again, leading her to the restaurant across from the landing strip.
Cassie’s eyes go wide when we enter the rustic-style building.
“Welcome. Table or boat?” the jovial host asks.
