Back in Play

by Lynda Aicher

  “Thanks for visiting, Rachel,” Carter said, cutting off further protest from Rock, who’d been bickering with her over the topic since they’d left for the airport. Carter gave her a crushing hug that had her eyes stinging. “It was great having you here.”

  “Thanks for having me.” She’d miss them. “I’ll be back for Labor Day though.” Hopefully for more than just Carter’s gallery show. But no matter what happened with her and Scott, she wouldn’t miss seeing the final outcome after tagging along on Carter’s shoots for the last month.

  “I’m counting on it.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek and stepped back, eyes narrowing as he studied her. “I say...white.”

  She frowned. “White what?”

  He flicked his fingers through the ends of her hair. “The color. Maybe green.” She wrinkled her nose at that. “Okay.” He laughed, head shaking. “Not green then.”

  “Take care, sis.” Rock set her suitcase on the curb and hauled her into a tight hug.

  She held on, eyes stinging again. For all his gruffness, her brother was a softy inside.

  “You, too,” she choked out, blinking to keep the tears at bay. She needed them to go, and Rock would get obstinate on walking her inside if she started crying. “I had a great time.” She finally loosened her hold and stepped back when she was certain she had her emotions under control.

  Rock cleared his throat, scanning the area before he gave her a smile. Not a stiff or stifled one that was his norm, but that warm, caring one he mostly reserved for Carter. Dang it. He was going to make her cry if he kept that up.

  “Thanks for understanding this last week too,” she said, as much to distract him. “I didn’t mean to bail on you guys quite so much.”

  “We were working anyway,” Carter said before Rock could respond. He winked at her when Rock scowled. “It’s great you had someone to entertain you.”

  Her brother’s rough grunt said he didn’t agree. Still, he’d begrudgingly approved of Scott after their dinner together.

  “I’ve gotta go,” she said, giving them both one last hug. “I’ll text you when I get home.” Rock always asked her to do that even though he could track the airplane and analyze the flight manifest if he chose to.

  “Good luck with school.”

  She rolled her eyes at Carter but smiled. Atlanta public schools started the first week of August, which meant she’d be back to work prepping her classroom in two weeks. And she had no regrets about spending four of her precious seven weeks off with them.

  She blew them both kisses and hurried through the revolving doors into the terminal. Her heart pattered a beat of adrenaline-fueled guilt as she headed toward her airline check-in area. It couldn’t be helped though.

  A glance out the big windows showed Rock’s truck weaving into the crawling traffic as he pulled away from the curb. Her breath left her lungs in a huge gush. Stepping to the side, she waited until the truck disappeared around the bend at the end of the terminal. Only then did she grab her phone and send the text to Scott.

  They’re gone.

  She was heading back outside a second later. The deception had been tediously planned yesterday. It was all part of maintaining Scott’s anonymity. As that’d been his foremost requirement for checking himself into the rehab facility, she wasn’t about to argue.

  It was more important to get Scott into rehab than soothe her troubled conscience over lying to her brother. Hopefully, Rock didn’t actually check the flight manifest she was supposed to be on.

  Her nerves spiraled into a bigger knot in her stomach before she spotted Scott’s black pickup easing through the clogged traffic. She was almost ashamed to say she’d wondered if he’d actually show. They’d parted late yesterday afternoon so she could spend her last evening in town with Rock and Carter, which had led to a fretful night of worry and little sleep for her.

  She waved Scott down and waited for him to find a space at the curb. His smile was tight when he came around to lift her suitcase into the bed of his truck. His kiss was brief, a peck of acknowledgement before he hustled back to the driver’s seat.

  She blew out one last breath and bit her tongue against her doubts and the questions she wanted to ask. They had a three-hour flight ahead where she could talk to him. Now wasn’t the time to push.

  The door had barely slammed closed behind her before he was shifting the truck into gear. She latched her seatbelt then turned to study his profile. It still took her breath away. The bump on the bridge of his nose was more noticeable from this vantage point where his chin dimple was hidden, as was the small eyebrow scar.

  She managed to withhold her words through their drive to the private hangar, where he parked his truck in the attached garage. He’d orchestrated this private flight after she’d confirmed an anonymous spot for him at the rehab center. He’d spent over an hour talking to her contact there and then the pain specialist before he’d fully consented to going. Something she respected. His full buy-in was crucial for his success.

  Stepping onto the private jet was an experience she’d thought reserved for the rich and famous. She almost snorted out loud at that stupid logic then blamed it on her nerves. Scott was both of those things, even if she’d forgotten that this past week.

  He didn’t act any different than her, even when they’d been out in public.

  He stopped to chat with the pilot and copilot, and she stood in the middle of the small plane, wondering where she was supposed to sit. His arms came around her, chest warming her back when he pulled her in to bury his nose in her hair, right by her ear.

  She inhaled, and it felt like the first full breath she’d taken today. Her eyes drifted closed, hands coming up to clasp his forearms.

  “Thank you,” Scott mumbled.

  “You’re welcome.” She logged the feel of him. The scent of his aftershave. The tickle of his arm hairs beneath her palms. The security that came whenever he embraced her. Once he checked into rehab, it’d be weeks before she could have this again. If he still wanted it.

  She shifted around to face him. The shape of his chest was practically imprinted into her palms, yet she ran her hands over it again. “How are you doing?” That was only the tip of what she wanted to ask, but she refused to drill him just to ease her own mind.

  He lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. “Hanging in there.”

  His honesty had her shuddering in relief. They’d talked for hours yesterday regarding options and the challenges ahead. After he’d made the leap to go through with rehab, he’d been fully committed. Not once had he talked about backing out.

  That still didn’t mean much. He could walk out of the facility at any time.

  “Good.” She lifted her chin then reached up to press a kiss to his lips. His low moan came across as a combination of pain and longing. She smoothed her hands around his neck and held on when he deepened the kiss. His tongue swooped in to play with hers, the light flavor of coffee and mint mingling over his own.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a deep voice interrupted. “But we’re ready to depart.”

  Scott lifted his head, eyes heavy. “Okay.”

  He stowed her carryon in an overhead compartment and they settled into two of the leather captain’s chairs. His grip was solid when he clasped her hand, held it through taxiing and takeoff. The smaller plane shook more than she was used to, her stomach dropping as they lifted into the air.

  Sophisticated and sleek, the plane looked to seat between six and eight. There were four cream-colored leather chairs focused around fold-up tables and a long bench seat in the back by the bathroom. A shining wood-and-glass bar area was located near the entrance, next to the cockpit door.

  “Do you own this?” She gestured around the plane. She hadn’t thought to ask when he was making the arrangements yesterday.

  “I co-own it with three other guys.” He shrugged. “It makes travel easier.”

  Way easier. “You think?” Her chuckle was tempered by a wide smile.


  He tugged her in to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Smartass.”

  She squeezed his hand, relieved to hear the humor in his voice. Distraction and support—that was all she could provide him right now. “I had to be in order to survive my testosterone-packed house growing up.”

  “And after you left home?” His brow rose in speculative inquiry. “What’s your excuse now?”

  “It keeps men on their toes.” She wiggled her brows, barely keeping her snarky grin controlled.

  His eyes narrowed, the blue darkening before he shook his head. “That it does.” He lifted their clasped hands to press a kiss to her knuckles.

  Why did something so innocent cause her heart to flutter and her insides to go soft?

  The copilot came through the closed cockpit door while she was still sifting through her scrambled emotions. His navy suit fit his slightly short and thin frame like it was tailor-made. His expression was warm if neutral on his narrow face. Long nose, thin lips, soft cheekbones over a cut jaw that angled down to a somewhat pointy chin.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” His deep voice was a bit of a shock, and Rachel caught herself grinning at her assumptions. She’d been expecting a higher pitch based on his stature instead of the throaty baritone that came out.

  “Just a water for me,” Scott said.

  “Do you have coffee?” She could definitely use more caffeine. She usually went through several cups before this time of the morning.

  The man opened a cabinet and came to her, a box displayed. “We have a single-serve coffeemaker on board. You have your pick of flavors and strengths.”

  Of course they would. She selected a medium roast, and the man quietly went about getting their drinks. Professional and unobtrusive. He must get paid nicely for his efficiency and subsequent discretion.

  She leaned into Scott. “I’m assuming that guy can be trusted with your privacy.”

  He glanced at the man. “Yes. Parker’s been thoroughly screened and has proven his discretion over the years.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how long he’d owned his own plane, but it wasn’t her business. “Do you use the plane a lot?” she asked instead.

  He shrugged. “Not that much. The other guys probably do more than me. None of them are from Minnesota. They fly in family for games or to go home. Vacations, that kind of thing.”

  There was a hint of something close to sadness—or was it longing?—in his voice. Parker came back before she could dig more. He efficiently flipped the table up, set out napkins and placed their drinks on them.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  His formal presentation and manners reminded her of TV butlers, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. He really didn’t fit with the rough-and-tumble hockey player guys. She’d expected a female too, which was another stereotype she was ashamed of.

  “I think we’re good.” Scott looked to her, and she nodded. “I’ll ring you if we need anything.”

  “Very good, sir.” He executed a small bow then headed back to the cockpit door, back straight, chin up.

  She held in her giggles until the door was firmly closed behind him. They rolled free though as soon as the latch clicked.

  “What?”

  The confusion on Scott’s face only increased her small bout of hysteria. Maybe it was the early morning or lack of sleep or the tension of the last day or the dread of knowing what Scott was facing and being unable to help. Whatever it was, she couldn’t get her laughing fit to stop.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks to solidify her drop into crazyland. She sucked in a deep breath, wiped the wetness from her cheeks and swallowed back the next round that tried to bubble up her throat.

  She shot a glance at Scott and almost lost it again. There was no doubt he was questioning her sanity right then. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I just...” What? Thought the flight attendant was funny? How rude would that sound?

  He lifted her face with a gentle touch along her jaw. “He is pretty formal.” She could only nod, afraid the giggles would start again if she opened her mouth. “I still do a double take when he speaks. Nice-as-hell guy though.” His eyes danced with the information, but she’d lost track of the conversation, too focused on the tender back-and-forth stroke of his thumb over her cheek. “He and Nathen, the other pilot, are a team. They came highly recommended.”

  She turned her head into his touch, her giggles curbed by the flood of heat rushing down her neck. “And they’re at your beck and call?” she managed to ask, wiggling her brows again.

  He gave a soft snort. “Not quite like that.” His lips were too brief on hers when he kissed her. “Gutter mind—not that I mind. They also pilot another co-owned plane. I was lucky they were free and our plane was available on short notice. They’d just gotten back from taking Grenick to Massachusetts.”

  Luxury homes. Private planes. She was way out of her depth. “Lucky us.” She almost cringed at the lameness of her words, but she had no idea how to respond.

  “Have I said thank you yet?”

  “For what?”

  “Being here with me.” Kiss. “Not judging me.” Another kiss. “Helping when there’s no reason for you to do so.” A third lingering kiss had her leaning into his hold.

  “How could I not?” she asked against his lips. She played with the hair at his nape, the strands soft yet prickly on her fingertips.

  “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Likewise.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. It would only take them down a path he didn’t need to rehash. She was there, he was getting help and that was that.

  Taking control had never been an issue for her. Scott had managed to hold that power every time they’d gotten intimate so far, not that she’d minded. However, it was past time he sat back and received some of the pleasure he’d repeatedly doled out on her.

  Pressure to the back of his head had him tilting it just how she wanted it. She dove into his open mouth, tongue tangling with his in a heated play of increasing lust.

  Her nerve endings lit up with the slide of his palm up her bare arm, the bulge of his muscled biceps under her hand. The seatbelt tightened across her lap when she moved to get closer, which had her easing back, chuckling softly.

  “Damn safety devices,” she mumbled, scrambling to unhook the belt latch.

  His breaths were heavy, hunger dark in his eyes when she glanced back up, buckle freed. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

  Seriously? “Your water’s getting warm.”

  His brows lowered, just a touch. It was enough to change his expression to one that edged on predatory. God. Her nipples tightened almost instantly. A fact her fancy lace bra was probably doing jack-crap to hide.

  She held his gaze as she very deliberately rose from her seat. “You’re sure he won’t be back?” She nodded toward the cockpit.

  “Very.” The raspy huskiness in his voice had her stomach clenching with the desire building below it.

  Her simple V-neck shirt skimmed over her head a second later. A slow striptease wasn’t the effect she was after. Give him too much time, and he’d probably try to take control again.

  Had she planned this when she’d dressed that morning? Maybe—subconsciously. It wasn’t often she worried about her bra and panties matching. Her breasts rose with the breaths she tried unsuccessfully to control. His gaze dropped right to them, mouth parting as he dragged his tongue over his lips.

  She leaned over to grab his hand. “Come here.”

  He didn’t resist when she stepped back, following her to the bench seat at the back of the plane. She spun him around, shoved and watched with satisfaction as he plopped down on the cushioned seat.

  He reached out though, hands closing around the back of her thighs to tug her onto his lap. She straddled him, cupping his face before she dove into another kiss. It was almost impossible to stay away. Had been since she’d first spotted him.

  Love at first sight was for the fancif
ul and dreamers—neither of which she was. But she couldn’t deny the warmth that invaded whenever she was near him. Or the way her body lit up when he touched her.

  His hands seemed to be everywhere. Running up her back, down her sides, across her nape. Hers weren’t still either. She already knew every curve and muscled edge of him, yet she retouched every inch of his upper body just to ensure she had it down.

  A deep, rumbled groan filtered up from his chest and was muffled in their mouths because she refused to release it. Her tongue dove in and out, around and back to catch every hint of his flavor while she still could. This was her parting gift to him. Something for him to remember while he was in rehab.

  Not that she had any delusions about their future together. This was about now. Them. And nothing more than that.

  He ran his palms over her breasts, pinched her nipples until she had to yank her mouth free to gasp at the fire that spread down her chest to ignite in her sex. How did he do that? Set her off so easily with the barest of touches and a hint of tender pain?

  She rocked her hips, the hard outline of his erection grinding over her piercing to hit her clit. Her breath caught, eyelids dropping to half-mast as she relished the slow back and forth, even through clothing. Too much clothing.

  She brushed one more kiss over his reddened lips, savored the quick pants that gushed over her mouth before she scrambled off his lap to kneel between his legs. His eyes went wide when she shoved his shirt out of the way to find the fastenings on his cargo shorts.

  “Rachel.” He groaned, face pinching before he stilled her hands. “You don’t have to.”

  Don’t have to? “Of course I don’t.” She didn’t have to do any of this. A flicker of doubt had her studying him, his palm warm over her pliant hands. It wasn’t about him not wanting it. The hard outline of his erection was solid and confirming against the side of her hand. His pupils were large with his desire, chest rising and falling faster than normal.

  “Let me,” she whispered, desperately needing to. She moved her hands, testing his resistance. “I want to.” She tried to inflect exactly how much into her voice. He’d been way more than a conscientious lover to her. Her multiple orgasms every time had been shattering and mind-blowing.