Virtuous

by M. S. Force

  “Hi,” she says when she reaches me.

  “Hi there.” I take her bag and toss it into the backseat with mine and then help her into the car. I’m not sure if I should, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in days, so I lean in to kiss her after I buckle her in.

  She kisses me back, and I take that as a good sign.

  “Missed you.”

  Smiling, she says, “You texted me constantly.”

  “No substitute for the real you.”

  I want to bury my face in her hair, nuzzle her neck and breathe in the scent of her, but I do none of those things. Hopefully, I’ll get to do all of them on the plane. I pull myself away from her and close her door. The second I’ve got the car moving toward our destination in Teterboro, New Jersey, I reach for her hand.

  “How was your day?” I ask her.

  “Good but busy. We’re doing some testing this week, and the kids hate it so they’re out of sorts, which means we’re out of sorts, too.”

  “You have three days to decompress.”

  “Believe me, I know. I’m looking forward to it.”

  I’m so glad to hear that, I want to sing Hallelujah or some other celebratory song. But like all my other impulses where she’s concerned, I resist. It’s far too soon to celebrate, especially when she’s still deciding whether she’s going to give me a chance.

  The ride out of the city is slow thanks to Friday afternoon traffic on the Henry Hudson Parkway. I used to think there was nothing quite like LA traffic until I spent time in New York. Most people don’t drive in the city, but public transportation can be a challenge for me, so I put up with the traffic. Today I’m annoyed by anything that delays me getting to the airport and onto the plane, so I can be alone with Natalie and focused completely on her rather than the traffic.

  “I’ve been thinking about ‘Wicked’ all day. Thank you again for that.”

  “You’re very welcome. I love that you enjoyed it so much.”

  “It was… I need to find a way to expand my vocabulary where you’re concerned, but I keep coming back to incredible.”

  “That’s not a bad word.”

  “No, but I teach my kids that any word that’s overused becomes a cliché after a while, and I don’t want to become a cliché where you’re concerned.”

  “Not possible.” I give her hand a squeeze and wish I could look at her when I say, “Everything about you is fresh and new and interesting to me. And this entire thing between us is the furthest thing from a cliché that I’ve ever experienced. It’s quite possible, in fact, that my entire life up until about a week ago was a gigantic cliché and you’ve saved me from all that ridiculousness.”

  By now she’s laughing, which pleases me greatly. I do love that laugh of hers. It’s quite… incredible. Because I already know she hasn’t had a lot to laugh about, it’s extra special to be the one to give her that, even if it only lasts for a minute or two.

  “Where do you come up with that stuff?”

  “Despite your insulting laughter, I meant every word of what I said.”

  Once we get over the George Washington Bridge, the traffic into New Jersey begins to move. Finally.

  “Are we leaving from Newark?”

  “No, Teterboro. It’s a small regional airport.”

  “Oh. Do the airlines fly out of there?”

  “We’re not going on the airlines.”

  “Oh. Oh!”

  “So here’s the thing—commercial flying, like any form of public transportation, can be difficult for me, and while I’m acutely aware that my carbon footprint is way bigger than it should be, I don’t really have a choice. I’m not afraid of many things, but crowds and big crushes of people freak me out. You never know who’s in that crowd or what their agenda might be.”

  “I totally understand. It’s a safety issue more than anything.”

  “Yeah, in a way. Besides,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “it’s hardly a hardship to fly private. You’ll see what I mean in a couple of minutes.”

  Because I fly out of here often, I have a routine with the charter company. They’re waiting for me, and we’re able to drive right up to the waiting Gulfstream. If there’s any benefit to celebrity, it’s moments like this when we’re given the ultimate VIP treatment with the car and our bags dealt with quickly and efficiently.

  The pilots introduce themselves to me, shake my hand and tell me they’re big fans.

  “We’re expecting a relatively smooth flight today, Mr. Godfrey,” the captain says. “There’ll be some bumps over the Rocky Mountains, as usual, but nothing major.”

  “Sounds great, thank you so much.”

  “See you in LA,” the first officer says as they return to the cockpit to prepare for departure.

  The flight attendant, Jacob, takes our coats and encourages us to get comfortable in the side-by-side leather seats where they want us for takeoff. Afterward, we can move to the plush leather sofa and get really comfortable.

  “This whole thing is crazy,” Natalie says when we’re alone. “I bet no one would complain about traveling—ever—if everyone could do it this way. No lines, no waiting, no security.”

  “It does have its perks.”

  Right after takeoff, Jacob proves my point by emerging from the galley with flutes of champagne and a tray of cheese, crackers, grapes, strawberries and chocolates artfully arranged.

  “Are you nervous about this weekend?” Natalie asks as we enjoy the snack and the icy champagne.

  I glance at her, not entirely sure what she’s asking. Am I nervous about spending the weekend with her? No, I’m thrilled.

  “I mean the Globes,” she says, apparently tuning in to my internal debate.

  “Not really. I mean, it would be nice to win and be recognized for the work, but if I don’t, my life will still be great on Monday.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it.”

  “That’s the only way to look at it.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you should win. Camouflage is your best work to date. No question.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “I do. It was brilliant.”

  “May I be entirely honest and do you promise never to repeat what I’m about to say?”

  Her smile lights up her gorgeous face. “By all means.”

  “I agree with you. It’s the best work I’ve ever done, and I really, really want to win that Globe.”

  “Ah, now the truth comes out!”

  I played a larger-than-life Special Forces officer who sustains devastating injuries in Afghanistan and has to rebuild his life from the ground up. It’s loosely based on a true story. “Making that film was the experience of a lifetime. Spending time at Walter Reed with injured service members, witnessing their struggles to regain their lives, to learn to live without some of the essential elements of who they were before… It was life-changing for all of us.”

  “I loved it. Every second of it. I think I saw it five times.”

  “Really?” I’m amazed and flattered to know the film I’d poured my heart and soul into for two years had connected with her.

  “Really. I could see it a hundred more times and never get enough. It was beautiful. Everyone in it deserves awards, but you… You were just…” She shakes her head. “Transcendent.”

  It is, without a doubt, the single best compliment I’ve received in a career filled with unreasonable adulation, and I’m touched to my very core. “Thank you,” I say gruffly. “Means a lot to me coming from you.”

  “You must hear it all the time.”

  I shrug that off. “It’s just words coming from others. The people close to me are the ones who matter. My parents had a lot to say about that film, too, and I won’t soon forget any of it.”

  “They must be so proud,” she says with a note of wistfulness I can’t help but hear.

  “I hope they are. Their voices are always in my head, that’s for sure. I consult with my dad on every project before I agr
ee to do it. He’s my touchstone.”

  “I’m very excited to meet them.”

  “They’re looking forward to meeting you, too.”

  “Oh. So they know about me?”

  “Yes,” I say with a soft laugh, “they know about you. And they know I must really like you if I’m bringing you home to meet them. That hasn’t happened very often in the past.”

  “Oh,” she says again, and I can almost feel her trying to process the meaning of what I’m telling her.

  “Want to get comfortable?”

  “We aren’t comfortable now?”

  “More comfortable.” I nod toward the sofa, and she eyes it with what might be trepidation. “We can stretch out and watch a movie. Anything but The Sound of Music.”

  I watch the tension leave her shoulders when she realizes I’m not suggesting a make-out session. Although if that were to happen… No. That’s not going to happen. I want her to trust me and to feel comfortable with me, which is my number one goal for this weekend.

  “That sounds good,” she says.

  We unbuckle from the chairs, kick off our shoes and head for the wide, plush sofa that accommodates us both with ease. Jacob appears out of nowhere with a cashmere throw blanket. He gives me a quick tutorial on the controller for the cabin lights and the entertainment system before gathering the tray and empty glasses. “May I get you anything else for the moment?”

  I glance at Natalie, and she shakes her head.

  “I think we’re set for now, Jacob. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. If you need me, just push this button. Otherwise, I’ll leave you to relax.”

  I love that he lets us know he won’t be back unless we summon him. He earns himself a big tip with that move.

  “This is the life,” Natalie declares as she snuggles up to me.

  As I dim the lights and flip through the movie menu, I couldn’t agree more. Right here, in my arms, is everything I’ll ever need.

  Chapter 11

  I’m completely blown away by the plane, the luxury and the easy comfort of being with Flynn. I love the way he talks about his parents and how he confessed to wanting to win the Golden Globe on Sunday. He truly deserves it after his magnificent performance in Camouflage. I can’t imagine what it will be like to be there with him, waiting to hear if he’ll win or not.

  Everything new I learn about him chips away at my plan to leave him. He’s not making it easy to keep this casual, that’s for sure. Take, for instance, the way he holds me in his arms, comfortably but respectfully. His hand strokes my hair in a soothing, undemanding caress.

  I feel his affection for me in every look and every touch. He’s made me remember what it was like to be loved by my parents and siblings before everything changed and they were lost to me. I’ve been so alone in the world since then that Flynn’s affection is like a balm on the raw wound I carry with me everywhere I go.

  Changing my name and appearance and rewriting my history are all surface things. Inside, where April still lives and breathes, the truth of who I really am is also with me always. Every minute I spend with him makes me want to take a chance I thought I’d never take. Every minute I spend with him is a risk to the future I fought so hard for.

  With his fingers running through my hair and his hand warm against my back, I don’t care about any of that.

  “Flynn?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I was thinking…”

  “About?”

  “What happened last night at your place.” I feel his entire body go tense.

  “What about it?”

  “I’m so embarrassed about the way I reacted.” We haven’t spoken about it again, but it’s been on my mind.

  “I don’t want you to be embarrassed.” He arranges us so we’re looking directly at each other. His hand is warm and comforting on my cheek. “Do you have any idea how much I value honesty of any kind? Or how rare it is to witness a genuinely honest reaction from a woman that has nothing at all to do with who I am in the business or what I can do to advance her career?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” I look away from his intense gaze for a moment before summoning the courage to continue. “After what happened last night, all I could think about was how I should end this before it goes any further.”

  He closes his eyes, and his cheek begins to twitch. After a long pause, he opens his eyes. “And now?”

  “Now I’m wondering if you’ll ever kiss me again after what happened.”

  “Natalie,” he says on a deep exhale, “you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you and hold you and touch you. But more than anything, I want you to trust me. I want you to tell me what I need to know so I won’t do the wrong thing and make whatever is troubling you worse than it already is.”

  His words are like a key in the lock that guards my secrets. He is so genuine and kind. “I want to trust you.”

  “You can. I promise you, with everything I have and everything I am, you can trust me to guard and protect you. I’ve known you for a week, and I’d already give you everything, if you’d let me.”

  I lay my hand on his face and kiss him. I can tell that I’ve surprised and pleased him by initiating the kiss.

  He kisses me back, but there’s no urgency, no flashpoint of desire like there was last night. This kiss is about safety and comfort and taking steps forward together.

  I break the kiss and close my eyes, needing some distance from him for what I’m about to say. “You’ve probably already figured out that I was raped. It happened when I was fifteen.” The words, once I decide to release them, tumble forth in a rush. “It was a particularly vicious and brutal assault that left me damaged in every possible way. There’s a lot more to the story than that, but the rest is stuff I don’t talk about. Ever. It’s in the past where it belongs.” I take another minute to collect my emotions before I open my eyes to find tears in his.

  “I… I’m so sorry that happened to you, baby.” He takes a deep breath that rattles in his chest, and I can tell he’s fighting hard to maintain his composure, which only makes me fall that much faster and harder for him. “I’ll never ask you to share things that are too painful for you.” With the soft flutter of his fingers over my cheek, he slays me with tenderness. “Thank you for telling me. I can’t begin to fathom how hard that was for you.”

  “I wanted you to know… What happened last night, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t yours either,” he says fiercely.

  I love him so much for saying that. “It took years of therapy for me to acknowledge it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. This was done to me.”

  He gathers me in even closer to him, his arms tight around me, and all I feel is loved and protected when only a week ago I would’ve freaked out if a man had tried to hold me so possessively. There’s no place for fear when I’m in his arms. “We’re going to figure this out together. One day at a time, one step at a time. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m in this so deep, Nat.”

  “So am I. A week ago… The thought of something like this would’ve been impossible to imagine. And now… Now everything seems possible.”

  “Please don’t leave me. Don’t walk away. Give me a chance. Give yourself a chance. If anyone deserves to be happy and loved, it’s you.”

  He’s a dream come true. He’s my dream come true. He’s the dream I never dared to have all sewn up into one irresistibly wonderful package.

  “Will you kiss me again?” I ask him. “Please?”

  “Only because you asked so nicely.”

  We’re both smiling when our lips come together. I can feel his caution, his hesitancy. He’s worried about pushing me too far, about losing control of himself and the situation. I already know him well enough to gauge these things just from the way he kisses me. There’s none of the heat that nearly consumed us last night, and I miss it. In spite of my fears, I want it back but I know it’ll never come from him after what I’ve shar
ed with him.

  Summoning the courage to take what I want so badly, I run my tongue over his bottom lip and experience the profound pleasure of feeling his entire body react.

  “What’re you doing to me?” he asks on a gasp.

  “Kissing you.”

  Laughter rumbles through his chest and makes his lips vibrate against mine. “Sure you are, you little vixen.”

  I use my tongue again to tease and entice him.

  “Natalie.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m so afraid I’ll do the wrong thing here. Help me.”

  To hear this strong, confident, capable man asking me to help him give me what I need is awe-inspiring. “Just kiss me the way you did last night. You can’t do it wrong. I’m prepared now for what it’ll be like.”

  “Tell me to stop, at any point. Just say stop, and it’s game off.”

  “Okay.”

  He looks at me for a long, intense moment, his eyes burning with desire and affection and so many other things I can’t begin to process. And then he takes possession of my mouth. There is no other word for it than possession. Complete and utter possession. As his tongue strokes against mine, the fire ignites the way it did before, and I’m carried away in a sea of heat and desire.

  He fists a handful of my hair to keep me anchored in place, but he doesn’t touch me anywhere else yet. This is all about lips and tongues and teeth and raw, desperate need. His leg sneaks between mine as his hand moves down my back to pull me in closer to him, so close my sex is pressed tight against his muscular leg.

  I squirm to get even closer, to gain relief from the ache between my legs. Every part of me wants every part of him, which is a startling discovery for someone who has avoided any contact with men for the last eight years. But all he does is kiss me and kiss me and kiss me until my lips are tingling and my lungs are about to burst.

  When I can no longer deny the need for air, I break the kiss and suck in greedy deep breaths as he turns his attention to my neck. The plane hits a bump that knocks us out of the sensual haze we’ve slipped into. He raises his head to meet my gaze and smiles at me. I love that smile. It’s so sexy and potent. I could look at it all day and never get tired of seeing it.