Not Quite Perfect
Page 66

For the next hour Mary soaked in Glen’s world and fell in love with his passion.
Glen landed the plane in Boston for an early dinner, which blew Mary’s mind. Who flies to Boston for dinner, gets in a private plane, and flies back? Once again, Glen let her pull them off the ground, but she was in no way going to try landing.
They headed down the coast in constant conversation. Every once in a while Glen would interrupt her to talk to some radio control tower as they flew through the airspace of an airport. Even though there wasn’t a highway in the sky, they still had to pay attention to other aircraft up there. Out over the ocean Glen programmed their course and engaged the autopilot function.
“Like cruise control on a car,” she said.
“Only this aircraft steers.”
“I can see why you like it. It’s peaceful up here.”
“And private.”
“What stops people from engaging autopilot and falling asleep?”
Glen leaned back. “I’m sure it’s happened. More likely autopilot is used for a couple to join the mile high club.”
Mary glanced around the small space. “In this?”
“It’s possible. Not comfortable, but it’s been done.”
She pointed a finger at him. “You?”
He shook his head. “Not in this plane. The four seater has more room.”
“You’re serious.”
“I had a friend who offered a service in college. He put a curtain up between the cockpit and the back, made sure the seats reclined back. People paid good money to join the club.”
Mary shook her head. “What people will do for sex.”
“The beds are always used on our private charters.”
“I feel like I’m constantly flying these days and I haven’t used the bed.”
Glen regarded her with a tilt of his head. “We need to change that.”
His look alone had her pushing her knees together. “I think we do.”
He leaned over, tilted her mic away from her lips, and kissed her.
Oh, yeah . . . they definitely needed to change that.
Just not in a plane with less space than a smart car.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It felt like she was always saying good-bye. This time was made worse because Glen needed to go to London on business and wouldn’t be back until after the following weekend.
Before she left his home, she moved some of his clothing around while he was in the shower and placed one pair of panties and a bra in a lone drawer.
It was meant as a joke, but during her flight home Glen had sent her a text after discovering it, telling her she could have all the space she wanted.
It was dark when she stepped off the private jet at the now familiar airport and walked over to the waiting car that would take her home.
“Hello, Miss Kildare. I hope you had a pleasant trip.”
“I did, thank you.” She turned to wave at the pilots before climbing into the back of the sedan.
Mary kept thinking over her weekend. How crazy her life had become, and not all of it in a bad way. Even the recent break-in and plumbing troubles couldn’t darken the energy she found to face every day. When she looked back on the weekend, all that had transpired, and tried to point to what she enjoyed most, she thought about the silly underwear she left at Glen’s house. The feeling of belonging in his life, his world. She was almost afraid to say it, even to herself . . . but their relationship was going really well. She enjoyed teasing him about his lack of ever having a girlfriend but didn’t turn that lens back on herself. A few men had floated in and out of her life, but none drawer-worthy. None she would have trusted to take her up in a single-engine airplane with no escape hatch. None who whispered her name when they made love to her. None she missed the second she stepped onto the tarmac to fly home.
Glen was turning into the real deal, and Mary wasn’t sure if she should just abandon herself to the feeling of belonging to someone, even as a girlfriend, or keep the walls she’d constructed years ago up to save her the heartache if it didn’t work out. Her two minds were fighting on which path to take, and her heart stood in the middle of the tug-of-war.
The driver pulled up to her condo and let her out.
She expected him to pull her luggage from the back and hand it to her, but instead he encouraged her to let him walk her in. “I was told you had a bit of trouble a while back. Mr. Fairchild asked that I see you were safely inside before I leave.”
She smiled. Even without Glen there, he was trying to take care of her.
Mary turned the key in her door and let the driver walk in first.
Inside the alarm let out a steady buzz, waiting for her to disarm it.
She punched in a series of numbers and stood back.
The living room was the same. The new floors had gone in but the replacement furniture had yet to be purchased. Indeed, her lone lamp stood on a cardboard box and the fresh coat of paint made the place smell and look like she’d just moved in.
“Looks like you’re okay.”
Mary thanked the man and locked the door after he left.
She reset the alarm, telling it she would be walking around but to blast her ears off if someone opened a window or an external door.
Mary fell into bed thirty minutes later after a brief text from Glen.
I miss you already.
Jacob Golf called to schedule an appointment, one without his wife, the day Mary picked up her car from the body shop.
Mary’s first thought was to tell him she couldn’t see him. Call it a conflict of interest or some such thing. Then she wondered what the chances of him scheduling an appointment were if he’d actually been the one in her home messing it up. His appointments almost always took place after five to accommodate his work in the past. It wasn’t a surprise that he asked to see her after six. They negotiated a five thirty time slot the following evening.