around Hunter , I reminded myself. Get over it .
I watched as a blonde bombshell of a flight attendant kept Hunter’s glass full of champagne while he stared out his window, sculpted jaw tense. I wondered what he was thinking about. Did he really hate the idea of having me around that much? Or was he just angry at his parents for controlling his life? I needed him to meet me at least part way, or I would never get through to him.
“Ever been on a private jet before?” he asked, suddenly turning toward me.
I jumped in my seat—could he tell I'd been staring at him this whole time? “Can’t say that I have.”
“What about the mile-high club? I hear that's possible even in coach,” he said with more than just a hint of snark.
I didn’t take the bait. “Also no, sadly. You?”
“Well, if I told you, you might think that I’m some kind of bad boy .” He showed off his pearly teeth. I bet he'd never even needed braces as a kid.
Lifting my eyebrows, I said, “Oh, I don’t think. I know.”
Leaning back in his seat, he stretched his long legs in front of him. Guys like Hunter were born to fly in private jets, how could he ever fit in coach? “My parents tell you that and you believed them?"
"Anyone in the world could tell me that, Hunter."
Chuckling, he considered me from the corner of his eye. "Fair enough. Look, straight up, I'm not a fan of the fact that my parents hired a babysitter for me. Then again, I always had a thing for my sitter when I was a kid. Maybe we could find a way to get along, darling.”
“How about you just call me Jo, ok?”
He nodded slowly. “You're already asking me to do things, not a good sign. Don’t be too much of a hard ass, if you don't mind, sweetie.”
My patience was fading. Just stay the course, reason with him. “Listen, Hunter, I’m not here to ruin your day or to stop you from having fun. I’m here to protect you. You have a lot going for you, and everyone just wants the best for you.”
“That’s such bullshit,” Hunter said, his temper flaring in an instant like I’d seen back at the club. "I know you’re just another corporate stooge working for my folks. Don’t pretend to be on my side.” He turned to face the window, shoving in his earbuds and blasting his music so loud I could hear it.
He wanted to ignore me? Fine. Two could play that game. I was glad I’d brought a new book on crisis management in P.R. There was no better way to distract yourself than a good book—for research or otherwise.
And, normally, I could have zoned in anywhere else and forgotten where I was.
Who I was with.
But every time Hunter breathed in, I felt the air shift. It sent waves of heat my way, his scent like a fresh pine tree, like the air next to a forgotten train track. I could feel— Okay, I cut myself off. Now you're getting poetic about a guy because he's making your panties a little warm. Relax, Jo.
To my relief, the attendant saved me from myself. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "Cookies, peanuts? They're only three dollars."
My growling empty-since-breakfast stomach made me blurt out, “We're on a private jet and you're charging me for the snacks?” Immediately I clapped my hand over my mouth, but before I could apologize for my hangry words the flight attendant had already stalked away down the narrow aisle.
“Someone's entitled,” Hunter snickered from his seat, tilting back the last of his champagne.
“I'm not,” I shot back, returning to my book and regretting my embarrassing outburst. Now I was humiliated, hungry, and confused by how frustrated I was with how Hunter was ignoring me.
To my shock, the attendant returned soon with a picture-perfect club on ciabatta, along with a cloth napkin, a bottle of sparkling water, a tiny bowl of green olives, and a bag of kettle chips.
“You are a goddess ,” I thanked the flight attendant, unable to conceal my delight. As I dug into the food with relish I noticed
Yvette Hines, Monique Lamont