by Leigh, Tara
“One of,” I followed her gaze, realization dawning. “The plane?”
“Yeah. I haven’t flown since the summer before . . .” Her voice trailed off. “We went to Disneyland.”
Shit. I should have anticipated Nixie’s reluctance to fly, but it never even occurred to me. “You haven’t been on a plane in sixteen years?”
Her eyes finally swung back to mine. “I don’t think I can do this.”
From the corner of my vision, I saw Madison and Parker scurrying up the steps, their nonstop, excited jabber growing faint. I stepped toward Nixie, blocking her view of the plane and reaching out to enfold her hands within my own. “Yes, you can. Once we get inside, there’s a glass of champagne with your name on it. In two hours we’ll be on the beach.”
She shook her head. “I can’t remember if I brought sunscreen.”
“I did.” I hadn’t.
Her gaze seemed to snap into focus. “Oh really? What SPF?”
What the hell was SPF? “The max. One hundred percent.”
A weak smile fluttered onto her lips. “Liar.”
“I’ll hire someone to follow you around with an umbrella if I need to. But I’m counting on your help with the twins.” I took a step backward, then another, pulling Nixie along with me.
“You don’t need me. Eva’s with them.”
I shook my head. “Eva gets motion sickness. In about ten minutes she’s going to be passed out cold on a Dramamine-Xanax cocktail. You can’t leave me alone with two four-year-olds.” My eyes widened, as if the thought terrified me. I wasn’t stretching the truth about Eva, but Madison and Parker were seasoned travelers and would probably spend most of the flight interrogating the pilots and stewardess and devouring any sugared confection they could get their hands on.
Nixie’s hands were trembling, eyes darting up at the plane, down to the ground, and then back to me. But with each step I took, she followed. Just a few more and we were at the stairs.
“Are you lying again?”
“Nope, not one bit. Help an uncle out, will you?” I put one foot on the mobile stairway and then another, tugging Nixie up with me. With each step she lost a little more color, her tiny freckles growing more visible. Gold princess glitter.
“Mr. Knight, so nice to have you on board again.” I spared a glance at the stewardess, a pretty Nordic blonde, just long enough to confirm that I hadn’t slept with her. Thank god for small favors.
I nodded. “Good to be back. Miss Rowland could use a glass of champagne, I believe.”
“Anything for you, sir?”
Madison was already tugging at my leg. “Uncle Nash, Mommy says we can have Shirley Temples if you say it’s okay. Can we, can we?”
A glance at Eva confirmed that she was tossing back her pills with a mimosa, and I inclined my head toward Nixie. “What do you think? Should we get our little royal highnesses good and sugared up for the ride?”
“Pleeeeeeeeease.” Madison begged, sliding onto the ground as she stared up at us. “They’re my favoritest drink in the whole wide world.”
Nixie seemed to pull herself together and rise to the occasion. Tugging her hands from mine, she put them on her hips and regarded my niece. “Hmmm. Are you sure they are absolutely your favoritest? Even more than milkshakes?”
Madison paused to consider the question, wide eyes sliding to the stewardess. “Do you have milkshakes?” she asked, as sly as a preschooler wearing a pink sparky tutu could possibly be.
The icy blonde’s cheeks took on a reddish hue. “No, I’m afraid we don’t.”
My niece blinked twice and turned back to Nixie. “Yes, Shirley Temples are my most favoritest.”
A laugh filtered from her lips. “Can’t argue with a princess.”
“So, one champagne, two Shirley Temples, and I’ll just take a water for now,” I ordered, picking up Madison and buckling her into a seat across from her mother.
“Thanks, Nash,” Eva said, her tone grateful as she took the last sip of her mimosa. “I’m about five minutes away from a nap.”
I was surprised she seemed to have lost interest in Nixie already, but I knew how sick she could get if she wasn’t at least half-asleep by takeoff. “No worries. We’ve got this.”
She raised one eyebrow, no doubt a response to my we, but stayed silent.
I cleared my throat, slightly stunned myself. Yeah—we sounded just right. I turned back to Nixie. “Take whichever seat you like, I’m just going to get Parker.”
For a suspended moment, Nixie looked as if she was about to say something, but then she dropped into the nearest chair and fumbled with her lap belt. “All set,” she said.
By the time I got back to the cabin with Parker, metallic wings freshly clipped to each shoulder, Madison had unbuckled herself and was sitting beside Nixie, her little mouth releasing a never-ending stream of questions and comments. “Can I sit next to your friend, Uncle Nash?”
I’d been hoping to occupy that seat myself, but one look at Nixie’s face told me Madison was taking her mind off the fact that we were going to be flying thirty thousand feet above the earth in a fiberglass tube at least as well as I could, probably better. “That okay with you?” I asked anyway, selfishly hoping Nixie would insist on holding my hand through takeoff.
Didn’t happen. “Of course,” she said, reaching over to help Madison with her belt, as if I hadn’t just maneuvered her onto the plane like a tug towing a rudderless boat into harbor.
I put Parker in the seat across from his sister and sat beside my nephew. Parker had always been quieter than his sister, silently observing the world through eyes that were the mirror image of mine and Wyatt’s. He hadn’t spoken a word until last year, and just as Eva was beginning to research speech therapists, he began speaking in full sentences, each word pronounced perfectly.
The stewardess came out with our drinks, and as I passed Parker his maraschino cherries suspended in carbonated sugar water, I saw that he’d already fastened his belt. “Good job, buddy.”
Parker grinned and gulped at his drink. “Safety first, Uncle Nash.” He looked down at my lap. “Do you need help with yours? I can show you.”
I reached out to ruffle his hair and then clicked my belt into place. “All set.”
Five minutes later, after the pilot came out to say a few words and invite the twins back into the cockpit once he’d reached a comfortable flying altitude, we were speeding down the runway.
Nixie threw back the last of her champagne and took hold of Madison’s hand.
“Do you want to wear my tiara?” my niece asked. “You can’t be scared with sparkles on your head.”
Nixie didn’t respond right away, closing her eyes as the jet engines pushed the wheels off the ground, the nose of the plane pointing upward. One hand squeezed within Nixie’s, Madison reached for her pink tiara and transferred it from her dark head to Nixie’s fiery mane. Nixie opened her eyes, that golden gaze of hers pointed straight in my direction. Damn. If I wasn’t sitting down, I would have fallen straight on my ass.
Madison was solemn. “When you’re not so scared, you can pass it back, okay?”
Nixie lifted a delicate hand to her head, her full lips pulling into a soft grin. What I wouldn’t give to see her mouth occupied by something other than a smile. Almost as if Nixie could read my lewd thoughts, she quirked an eyebrow, her stare pinning me to the back of the leather seat before she reached over to give my niece a hug, the bejeweled headpiece tipping precariously. “Thank you, Madison. I feel so much better now.”
Madison flashed white baby teeth that sparked more than the pink rhinestones. “I’m a twin. I’m a good sharer. All my teachers say so.”
Parker had been observing the exchange in his usual serious way. “That’s not true. You don’t always share with me.”
“But you’re my brother, silly.”
“You should share with me the most.”
I cut in. “That’s true. Brothers and sisters should share with each other.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” Parker asked Nixie.
“No. I always wanted to, though.”
“Even if you had to share with them?”
“Yes, even if.”
Madison chimed in. “My daddy was Uncle Nash’s brother. But he died, so Uncle Nash doesn’t have to share with him anymore. He gets us all to hisself.”
The plain truth of her words ate at my composure like a vat of acid. I blinked, glancing at Nixie who was just as taken aback as I was. Neither twin noticed, though, and they went happily running off with the stewardess to the cockpit. I ordered another champagne for Nixie and a whiskey for me.
“Out of the mouths of babes, huh?” Nixie said.
“You’re not kidding.” I unbuckled my belt and crossed the few feet between us, dropping into the seat Madison had just vacated and stretching my legs out in front of me.
Nixie rested her hand on my forearm, the heat from her palm burning through the fabric of my shirt and warming my skin. “They’re lucky to have you, you know.” She tilted her head toward Eva. “Especially her.”
The memory of Eva lying on her bed, looking up at me as I backed away from her, came rushing back. I shook my head as the hurt in Eva’s voice echoed in my ears. “Not sure she’d see it that way, and I can’t say I’d blame her.”
Nixie
I was flying. In an airplane. An airplane that could fall from the sky—or crash into a skyscraper—at any moment. And yet I was barely even thinking about the precarious position I was in . . . because of Nash and his charming niece and nephew. Even Eva. It almost felt like I was a part of their family, like there had been a small space, just my size, waiting to be filled. I wasn’t sure that Eva felt that way, of course. But she’d been, if not overly welcoming, then at least polite.
And for someone who had insisted he didn’t “do” relationships, Nash was putting on an Oscar-worthy impression of a devoted family man. I barely knew him, but I was struck by how different he was from the man he pretended to be when we first met. Where was the man who had acted like such a cold, heartless asshole? The man who wouldn’t even bring a woman back to his own apartment because it was too personal? The cocky suit who was quick with a come-on, but slow to open up?
Because this man—the one sitting beside me who worshiped his niece and nephew, who had stepped in to rebuild a relationship with the woman who had broken his heart, who had given me a dog—he was the kind of man that belonged in storybooks and fairytales.
Or was the champagne going to my head? I took another tentative sip, the bubbles tickling my tongue, sliding down my throat. I hadn’t eaten anything since last night. My muscles felt loose, the surface of my skin tingling. Seriously, who needed breakfast when there was champagne?
Because of the travel requirements involved in bringing a pet to Bermuda, I’d left Kismet in New York with Nash’s assistant, Katherine, whose own dog had died last year and who seemed genuinely thrilled to have a pooch for a few days. I felt badly for not bringing her with me, but with Kismet still recovering from Derrick, I was concerned about how well she would respond to the attentions of two enthusiastic preschoolers.
With the twins happily occupied in the cockpit, and Kismet back in New York, I was free to focus all my attention on Nash. I put my hand on his arm now, my face stretching into a smile. “I like this version of you.”
His eyes narrowed and I found myself leaning forward, mesmerized by the forest green outline encircling each iris that was at least five shades lighter. As if Nash’s eyes had been drawn by a kindergarten prodigy obsessed with coloring inside the lines. And once I started to move, gravity did the rest. I kept leaning closer and closer, until all of a sudden I felt Nash’s hand wrap around the back of my head, cradling my skull, his lips descending on mine. He tasted even better than the champagne.
I moaned, low in my throat. Wishing we were anywhere but in a plane, surrounded by people. Anywhere alone. Eva might be sleeping but I could still hear Madison’s chatter and Parker’s solemn, serious questions. The pilot’s answers, the stewardesses’ comments. They were background noise, though, Nash was definitely the headliner. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my empty glass loose within my fingers.
A steady drumbeat of desire danced up my spine, sending electric currents shooting along every limb. My toes curled within the tips of my sneakers, my breasts heavy and aching, desperate for Nash’s touch. Places I didn’t even know I had throbbed with heat and, based on that one night in my apartment, I was in no doubt that Nash would know exactly what to do with all those unfamiliar sensations. That he’d push me to the brink and then shove me beyond, send me soaring on wings I’d always had but never known how to use. Never had a reason to use.
I wondered—if we were kissing like this in a bar, instead of a plane, would Nash bring me back to his place? And if he did, would he make me pancakes again? Or, having gotten what he wanted, would I not be worth the effort anymore?
So many questions ran through my mind, I felt like Nash’s precocious niece. I finally found the strength to pull away, but only slightly, my forehead pressing against Nash’s, our panting breaths mingling between our mouths. Words piled up in the back of my throat. So many, I couldn’t decide which to say first.
Nash broke the silence. “Would we be bad babysitters if we escaped to the bedroom at the back of the plane?” His voice was rough, like it had traveled over a long stretch of gravel, his question different, more practical, than any of mine.
“There’s a bed on this plane?”
“Not as big as the one in my apartment, but it’ll do.”
Tempting. So tempting. “What about Madison and Parker?”
He cast an eye toward the cockpit. “They’re completely occupied.”
I glanced over at Eva, her enormous leather chair reclined, an eye mask covering half her face, her body beneath a cashmere blanket. I hadn’t expected to like her, assumed I would feel the same vague animosity toward her as the night she’d walked through the door of the ice cream shop. Worse, even, because she was the woman who had broken Nash’s heart, turned him into a man who was afraid to get burned again. I wanted to hate her for that, actually.
But I couldn’t. Eva was nice, and kind. There was an easygoing confidence about her that made me want to be her friend. Knowing the history she and Nash shared, and what he’d told me of their relationship now, I’d expected our conversation to be awkward, even uncomfortable. But chatting with Eva in the car on the way to Teterboro, watching her dote not just on her children, but on Nash and Jay, too, I wanted her to like me.
I definitely didn’t want Eva to wake up and catch me making out with Nash like a trampy teenager he’d snuck in through the back door.
Somehow I managed to dredge my rational instincts through the haze of lust threatening to swallow me whole. My guard was slipping, as precarious as Madison’s pink princess tiara. What made me believe I was guaranteed a happily ever after, ride - off - into - the - sunset kind of ending? No matter how many times he’d come to my rescue, Nash wasn’t Prince Charming, certainly not my Prince Charming. I hadn’t run away from Derrick only to leap into the arms of the first guy I found attractive. Even if he was mouth-watering, spine-tingling, ovary-bursting attractive.
Severing our connection, I pulled away, setting my glass on the side table and wrapping my hands around the armrests. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I could feel Nash’s stare searing the side of my face that was turned toward him, but I sent my eyes on a tour of the interior of the plane instead. I’d barely looked at it since boarding, at first because terror had shrunken my pupils into pin dots, and then because I only had eyes for Nash. But now, I welcomed the distraction.
I started with the ceiling and worked my way down. There were no overhead compartments, no need to shove a mountain of suitcases into a cramped, communal storage space. Instead there was attractive molding, lacquered wood accents. The warm glow of halogen lights. The cab
in felt like a luxurious living room rather than the inside of an airplane. The open windows framed a bright blue sky hanging above a carpet of white cumulus clouds, like strategically placed artwork in a modern, hyper-realistic installation at some trendy SoHo art gallery. About a dozen oversized chairs, upholstered in fine-grained leather the color of fresh cream, were grouped in pairs or foursomes. The carpet at my feet was a subdued gray, threaded with thin gold chevron stripes running from wall to wall. The overall effect was calming, a place where wealth whispered reassurances from every corner.
Just then, Madison came bounding back toward us, a cookie as big as her head clasped in her tiny fingers. “Uncle Nash, look—pink sprinkles!”
The sprinkles were indeed pink, and shedding all over the pristine carpet. I wanted to drop to my knees and pick them up before they were ground into neon dust beneath Madison’s sparkling shoes, but Nash just reached for his niece and pulled her into his lap. “Is Parker eating a pink sprinkle cookie, too?”
“No, they had a blue one for him, but he asked for plain instead.”
I somehow relaxed the muscles pushing my shoulders up toward my ears and took the bedazzled ornament off my head. “Thank you for lending me your beautiful tiara, Madison. I’m feeling much better now.”
She gave me a cookie-crumbed smile and regally inclined her head toward me so that I could affix the combs to her dark curls. When I was done, she lifted a hand to check that it was in place and leveled her serious gaze at Nash. “I have to go back to the cockpit now, but if your friend gets scared again, what will you give her?”
Nash pursed his lips, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
Madison hopped off his lap, hesitating for just a moment. “She’s a girl, she likes sparkles.”
“I don’t have anything that sparkles as much as your tiara. But how about hugs and kisses? Will those work?”
I choked on a sharp inhale, my eyes flying open so widely I could feel the tips of my lashes brush my lids. “Nash,” I wheezed a warning.
Madison wasn’t perturbed in the slightest, her pink sprinkled lips pulling into a wide grin. “That’s a great idea, Uncle Nash. Girls like those.”