“Ready to fly, big guy?” he asked.
Megan reached it to take Pete, but he was not having it. He clung to BJ. “No, daddy! Hecka!” His mighty wail of distress bounced around the cockpit as he nearly strangled BJ with his little hands.
BJ pulled him off and handed him to Megan. “Hold on, prince, let me get your throne ready.” As soon as BJ buckled Pete’s car seat into the back and loaded him in, his cries stopped.
BJ turned to help Megan fasten her seatbelt. He ran two fingers under the belt and slid them from her shoulder to where the buckle met her hip, slowing slightly as his hand passed over one breast in his path. “Perfect, and the fit’s good too.”
Megan rolled her eyes and smiled as she gently removed his hand from her hip.
Next, he adjusted her headset, lingering as he stroked hair. “More perfection.” He leaned in for a quick kiss.
Her anticipation built. “The sooner we get to where we’re going, the sooner I can kiss you back properly.”
“Let’s do it.”
Flying wasn’t the only it she wanted to do.
CHAPTER 42
Pete chattered happily from the back seat. Not that she could hear him through her headset, but she knew her little man. His overjoyed reaction to the rainbows paled to the sheer wonder covering his little face at the moment. That, and his lips hadn’t stopped moving since they’d left the ground.
Her little magpie was having the time of his young life.
BJ’s deep voice tickled her ear. “Look, Pete! There’s the Statue of Liberty on our port side.” He reached over to take her hand. “That would be left for the civilians on board. I can’t get any closer, but if you wave to the grand lady, you’ll have good luck!”
“You made that up,” she accused. And he probably had, but Pete didn’t care. If he waved any harder, he’d sprain his little wrist.
“Hey, we all have superstitions, and that’s one of mine. In an ironic twist of fate, the pilot I took lessons from was the same pilot who flew me to the Neonatal ICU. He was a Marine vet who loved Lady Liberty and named his company Liberty Air. He claims to have waived at Her the day he had me on board. Seems he used the fifty K bribe my dad paid him to buy his own bird and ended up marrying my nurse. Now, I do it to honor him and the huge risk he took to save me. I like being able to pass the tradition on to Pete.” He hesitated as if he was unsure of himself. “If that’s okay with you.”
Okay? Was he kidding? He made it sound like he was planning to stay for a while. Suddenly, she didn’t need his helicopter to touch the clouds.
But would he stick around? Sure, he was part of the extended family she’d acquired when Ethan had married Stephanie, and they were Kegan’s godparents, but would it ever be more? She glanced down at Smitty’s ring as it caught a piece of the late afternoon sun. It didn’t shine as much as it once had, and Smitty’s memory dimmed with it. Yeah, she wanted more. She wanted everything. With BJ. And that was probably not going to happen. Talk about crashing. Yikes! Not a good subject. She automatically crossed herself to ward off the bad vibes her thoughts might have conjured.
“Is my flying so bad it’s compelled you to pray?” he teased. “I send up one every time I ride with Steppie. I hope for Kegan’s sake, she grows up and learns how to drive someday.”
If she had read his words on paper, they would have sounded mean, but the tone of his voice and his smile made it clear he was joking. Time truly healed all wounds, and tragedy plus time equaled humor. As tragic as the circumstances were that had brought Stephanie into her life, time had healed the wounds and made it easier for Megan to find the funny in her life. “I’ve ridden with her once and that was enough, but you’re an excellent driver, Mr. Rainman.”
His smile nearly blinded her. “That was a good movie, but I’m more the Tom Cruise Top Gun type than Dustin Hoffman.”
True that.
But he was more than an excellent driver; he was a stellar tour guide, pointing out the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, and Wall Street. For all its reputation and power, the financial district didn’t impress her.
“We’ll be flying over the spot where the Twin Towers once stood. As near as I can determine, this is the route Flight 175 took that day.”
All traces of his former merriment vanished. There was more to him than the handsome face he showed everyone. He felt things deeply, and he was sharing those feelings with her. He was starting to let her into his private world, and didn’t that send her soaring into the clouds again?
He cleared his throat. “Time to head on in. My bird is getting thirsty, and when she runs dry, it isn’t pretty.”
It figured he wouldn’t stay serious for long. But it was a start.
CHAPTER 43
BJ unbuckled the sleeping Pete and hoisted him into his arms. At least they weren’t going to have to struggle to get him out of the helicopter this time. BJ had been so patient with Pete, but would that patience last over the course of a restaurant meal? That would be the ultimate test.
Don’t get your hopes up she warned herself. Again. But she might as well have been talking to her sleeping son. Her hopes...and dreams...were flying every bit as high as his helicopter had. And they were still climbing.
But nothing like a dirty diaper to bring her crashing back to reality. It was a wonder BJ hadn’t tossed Pete to her the minute he’d untangled her son from his car seat.
“Give him to me so I can change his diaper. Then show me this great little restaurant. I’m starving.”
“By the time you’re done, I should have all my paperwork finished, then we’re off. The restaurant is three blocks from here. After being cooped up, it’s a nice way to stretch your legs, not to mention working off the feast that’s about to be laid in front of you.”
She could think of a few other ways to burn off calories, and she probably wouldn’t get an argument from him.
Pete stirred in her arms.
“Hecka?” His sleepy voice reminded her what her priorities were. Pete first. Pete last. Pete always.
CHAPTER 44
The host didn’t look up from his phone. “Do you have reservations?”
“I have a lot of reservations, but we’ll eat here anyway. We’re going to need one of those little chair things for the baby,” BJ said evenly.
The man chuckled softly at something on his phone and typed in a few words. “I’m sorry, what? Oh, you mean booster seat. We don’t seat parties with babies after five.” He still didn’t make eye contact.
Megan grabbed his elbow. “BJ, it’s fine. We don’t have to eat here.”
“I got this,” he assured her. “Dude, it’s four forty-five.”
The man finally put down his phone. “My bad. But there’s a fifty-dollar upcharge for the booster seat.”
“Seriously, BJ, how good can the food be that you’d let someone treat you so rudely?”
BJ let out a disgusted sigh. “You’re right. Jesus Christ, man, where the hell did you go to business school?” His voice rose a notch.
“Same place you did. You sat next to me the whole time, copying my notes, and stealing my exam answers.”
“Why would I do that? You could barely read when we first met.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Fly Boy.”
BJ smiled at the fraternity nickname he hadn’t heard in years. “Whatever, Bubba Gump.”
“Yeah, a lot of shrimp goes through this place.” He pulled BJ into a bro hug.
With his arm still wrapped around Bubba’s shoulder, BJ turned to Megan. “The woman who is about to slug me is my friend, Megan Smith, and that little shrimp is her son, Pete. Megan, this is my college partner in crime, Declan Cunningham; the only man I know stupid enough to spend a hundred grand for an MBA to learn how to run his daddy’s crab shack.”
“Wow, tough words from a guy stupid enough to drop the same kind of cash so he can fly a helicopter. But in case you haven’t kept up with the newsletter, I’m franchising Shanty Irish. For you, I
can give the Ksi Alpha discount of a measly seven hundred fifty Gs. But you have to show me assets in excess of five mill.”
BJ shrugged. “Pocket change. Send me what you have, and I’ll talk it over with my dad and Steppie. Now, about that booster seat.”
Declan led them to a table with a spectacular view of Long Island Sound. “Enjoy your meal,” he said as he slid Pete into his booster seat.
Megan opened her menu and closed it almost immediately. “BJ, this is too much. I can’t imagine what it cost to fly here, but these prices are outrageous. I can buy a week’s worth of groceries for the price of one entrée.”
“First of all, I can afford it. As a matter of fact, I can afford to pay for everyone in this dining room and not put a dent in my bank account. Not a scratch. Second, Declan wants me to buy a franchise. He will try to wow us with a taste of everything on the menu, and I guarantee you there won’t be a bill at the end of the meal. Relax and enjoy this. You more than earned it by getting rid of what’s-her-name for me this afternoon. Plus, you’ve fed me two incredible meals. I can’t cook, so this is the best I can do to reciprocate. Please don’t say no.”
She gingerly reopened her menu.
“Hi, I’m Jordan, I’ll be your server today.” She set two shrimp cocktails on the table. “Compliments of the house.” She leaned over a little too far, allowing BJ a view that rivaled the waterfront vista. What was it with the peep shows? Not that he minded a little skin. Hell, he usually enjoyed it, but not today. Today, he only had eyes for one woman. And it might be the first day of many.
“Thank you. I’d like an iced tea, please. Baby, what would you like?”
Man, if looks could kill, Jordan would be sleeping with the fishes instead of serving them. So Megan was jealous. Normally, he would have taken that as his cue to flirt a little to fan the flame. But he couldn’t. Not with Megan. He reached out across the table to take her hand. “Have some wine if you want, but I never indulge when I fly. My cargo is too precious.”
Her face softened. “Something white, I suppose.”
“Please bring the lady a Vermentino.” He might have been talking to the server, but his eyes never left Megan’s face. There simply wasn’t anything else he wanted to see.
CHAPTER 45
Riley drained the last of his beer and tossed the bottle into the recycling bin. “I think I remember the dude from your last birthday party.”
BJ shook his head. “I’m surprised you can remember anything from my last birthday party.”
Riley waggled his eyebrows. “I remember waking up New Year’s Day with three women in my bed.”
“Three? You selfish bastard.” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. It felt wrong, and it didn’t matter he’d hurled in jest to the brother he knew damn good and well wasn’t a bastard.
“Don’t try to tell me you slept alone that night.”
BJ waggled his eyebrows. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
“Touché. Seriously, I never figured Boomer for a date rape kinda guy. It’s a good thing you were there instead of Mom. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Relax, BeeJus, I’m your favorite brother. You can tell me.”
Like he had a great selection to choose from. Quinn was a jerk, Knox was a wimp, and Shane was, well, Shane. “I’m all twisted up with this. I can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt. Of Pete getting hurt. Damn it, bro, I think I’m in love. I’ve started looking at rings.”
“Rings?”
BJ and Riley cringed. The note of hope in their mother’s voice was impossible to miss. “You are so busted,” Riley whispered to his brother. He got up and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I think I’ll go check out the game. Any game. Heck, I’ll settle for a fishing show.” He left BJ alone with their mother.
His mother poured herself a glass of wine and sat next to him and waited for him to say something.
BJ played with the bottle in his hand. “How much did you hear?”
She reached over and took his hand. “My baby’s in love. Indulge me a word of motherly advice, leave out the ‘I think’ part when you tell her.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “Mom, I’m hardly a baby.”
“No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my baby. If it helps, I love Megan and Pete too.”
He let that sink in. His mother was one incredible lady. Had he finally found a woman worthy of being her daughter-in-law? “But you’ve always hated all of my girlfriends. Why is Megan so special?”
She glanced out the window. “You were so early. You were in intensive care for the first six weeks of your life, struggling to survive.”
BJ barely recognized her voice. He squeezed her hand. “I know.”
“Pete’s about the age you were when I was finally sure you were going to make it. Every sneeze, every cough, every fever sent me into a panic. I considered hiring a doctor to live with us. You fought so hard to survive, and the whole time you were such a happy little guy. You were my world, and I loved you so much I thought I’d burst.
“And about that time, I found out I was expecting Quinn. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to love another child the way I loved you, but the heart grows. My heart’s gotten so big, there’s plenty of room in there for all of you boys and whomever you finally bring home or create. What’s that look for?”
BJ hesitated. This was going to make him sound like he was the biggest jerk on the planet, but if anyone could help him untangle this, it was his mom. “I worry about her stability. You know she was involuntarily committed to a mental hospital for three weeks. That’s the reason Steppie married Ethan, to rescue Pete from foster care.”
A lone tear trickled slowly down her cheek. “Did you ever wonder where I was during the time you were in the hospital?”
Sweat gathered on BJ’s brow. He’d never thought to ask that. Everything inside him screamed he wasn’t going to like what his mother was about to tell him. But there was no turning back. Croaking out his response sapped his strength. “Where?” Damn it, that hardly qualified as a whisper.
“In a hospital room outside of the pediatric intensive care unit. In the psych ward. Twice a day, someone helped me into a wheelchair and pushed me through the double doors that separated us. So I could look at you from the other side of the glass, hooked up to all those wires and tubes. You were such a tiny thing..” She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “Those doors had to be opened by a nurse on your side. To keep out the crazies...like me. They didn’t trust me to hold you for almost a month.” She sniffled. “They didn’t trust me with a belt for my robe... or a rosary.”
BJ stood and put his arms around his mother. As difficult as it was to hear her words, speaking them must have been torture for her. His strong, tough, no-nonsense mother admitting to a weakness that most would have considered shameful.
She stared into her wine glass. “Postpartum depression is a vile beast. My hormones, my emotions, were all over the place. I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t sleep. Add to that the stress and fear—the downright terror—that I was going to lose you. I got lost myself for a time. But thanks to Brian and a great doctor, I survived. Megan is a lot stronger than I was. I can’t imagine going through that plus mourning a husband then finding out he was married to someone else the way Megan did. Your father was my rock.”
BJ’s jaw clenched at the word father. Maybe it was his own instability he should be worried about.
He cleared his throat. “Um, did you keep the train set from when we were kids? I was thinking Pete might like it. You know, not permanently...” When was the last time he’d seen his mother roll her eyes? “What?”
“None of you boys can handle deep discussions for long, but I must say you set a new record. And yes, the train set is still downstairs. It might be buried behind a bunch of other boxes, not to mention a decade’s worth of dust, but it’s down there somewhere. Come to the basement with me and help me look.”
The basement. His basement. I
n the house where he grew up. Where he felt safe. With his mother. To say he trusted her with his life was an obscene understatement. It was a start. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Lead on.”
***
BJ muscled four boxes of Christmas decorations out of the way, raising a cloud of dust. His mother sneezed. “Bless you.”
“Thank you. I’m a little surprised my opinion matters so much to you.”
He pushed aside the box with Choo Choo scrawled on the side in red crayon. Even Quinn’s handwriting was annoying. “You shouldn’t be. I’m not blind or mentally challenged, although I know both were real possibilities with all the time I spent in an incubator.”
Deb crossed herself. “Thank you, St. Brigid, patron saint of newborns.”
Out of habit, BJ followed his mother’s lead. “Yes, ma’am, thank you St. Brigid. But my point is, I’ve watched all the drama between the Clausens and Tobins my entire life. I don’t want to live that way. My woman has to be special. She has to fit in. And I’m pretty sure that’s Megan.”
“Again, my motherly advice, but leave out the ‘pretty sure’ when you talk to Megan about this. Are you ready to be an instant father?”
Father. Was he ready for that? It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t. It was part of the deal. If he wanted Megan, and he did, then Pete was coming along for the ride. And that was a ride BJ knew he wanted to take—that he had to take.
“Megan’s made it very clear they’re a package deal. She said she wanted to be the kind of mother Pete could be proud of the way I’m proud of you. We haven’t done anything more than kiss because she doesn’t want him to get attached to a man who might not stick around.” He decided his mother didn’t need to know about the gentle caress at the hangar.
Fly Boy: A Friends to Lovers Standalone Romance (Tobin Tribe Book 2) Page 17