Treasure Your Love
Page 2
“It’s a surprise. It always is.”
I smirked at his mysterious smile.
Oh, God. I hated surprises.
Jett knew this little fact, and yet he was still trying to get his way. I could only hope he wasn’t aiming for crazy.
Chapter 2
“I’M NOT GETTING on that thing. Sorry,” I said. Jett and I were standing on a narrow landing strip in front of the tiniest helicopter I had ever seen. Okay, I had never seen one in real life so I couldn’t really judge it based on its size, but it looked horribly fragile, with barely an inch of metal standing between me and a deep plunge into sure death. Jett knew how much I liked solid ground beneath my feet. “I don’t want to crash and die.”
“No one’s dying, Brooke.” His brows shot up, amused. In fact, he was having a hard time not to laugh, which I could tell from the way his lips kept jerking at the corners. My temper boiled just a little bit. I had issues with height. No big deal. A lot of people did. And I was ready to tell him just that when he interrupted me.
“Do I have to remind you that you also went on board with me? What’s the difference?”
“It was a boat, Jett. There was water all around us, and I can swim. I cannot fly. I don’t want to get on a helicopter, thousands of miles up in the air with no ground under my feet.”
“You’ll like it, I promise.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. Glaring, I inhaled his scent, fighting with the voice inside my head that kept telling me to give it a shot.
Try everything once.
No frickin’ way in hell.
“I’ve done this a thousand times, and as you can see, I’m still alive. Just close your eyes and hold on to my arm while I get us to our destination—safe. I’ll help you overcome your fear of heights,” Jett said, soothing me with that deep voice of his that could probably persuade a grizzly to give up his half-eaten prey.
“Tell that to my subconscious. Even if I closed my eyes, I’d still know you were flying. I’d feel it in my bones that I’m high up in the sky with no way but down.” The thought made me shiver with dread, and a trickle of sweat ran down my spine.
Jett took a half-step back, regarding me. “What’s wrong with me flying?”
Oh, God. Was that the only thing he was worried about? That I might be questioning his competence and abilities? I groaned inwardly.
“I’m sure you’re an awesome pilot.” How could I explain to a man who loved taking risks and who had once been addicted to adrenaline, that I was scared of a lot of things, including flying, and that I harbored absolutely no wish to overcome this particular fear—and especially not in a helicopter, which was more prone to crashing than an airplane.
“But?” Jett drew out the word, prodding. Why couldn’t he just drop it?
Okay, I admit, maybe I couldn’t pay him the same level of confidence I might give a professional pilot. The way I saw it, would I rather have surgery performed on me in a hospital ER by the person I had hot sex with, or by a person who was unbiased, with plenty of experience and a resume to demonstrate his skills? As much as I loved Jett, the decision was a no-brainer.
“Look. I know I’m being unreasonable.” I heaved an exaggerated sigh. “But I’m not like you.” It was true. The guy had no fears. He’d jump headfirst into any situation just so he could demonstrate he wasn’t scared.
“It’s not that different from a plane. It just feels more real.” His eyes glimmered with pride. I could hear it in his voice. I could see it in his confident stance, and I was once again reminded he did all kinds of crazy stuff, thanks to his father’s competitive upbringing and bank account. And what did he mean by “real?”
My fear was instantly magnified at the thought of sensations up in the air being more intense. I didn’t want intense. I wanted earth—or at least a working parachute.
Taking one step back, I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. I was not getting on a helicopter where I could feel every jolt, jerk, and shaking. Not when the tiniest possibility existed that a bird might collide with us, or something dropped from the sky, making us crash. And particularly not when Jett might be tempted to show off with some impressive aerobatic maneuver in midair such as loops and spins. I had seen those on TV, and while the crowd usually cheered, I preferred to stare, horrified, thankful for choosing my profession wisely.
“My point is, I’m not keen on being strapped to a seat with no option to exit. I want to be able to jump.”
The corner of his lips twitched again at my choice of words. Jumping off a plane—why was it so easy to imagine him suggesting just that?
Because it’s probably one of his favorite hobbies? Do not even go there, Stewart!
I felt sick already. Holding onto Jett’s arm for support, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jett began to rub my back, but the movement didn’t manage to soothe me.
“Baby, there’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re not flying far,” he insisted. “Everyone’s doing it in NY. It will be fun.”
Yeah, right!
Fun for him to fly. Nightmare for me. But fun for him, nevertheless, to see me sweating a river.
“Why can’t we just take a taxi?”
“Because it’d spoil your surprise.”
I covered my eyes and groaned, hating the fact that I had to disappoint him, hating the fact that he kept persisting. “As much as I want to, I can’t.”
He cupped my face and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I want you to see your hometown the way you’ve never seen it before. And don’t say you can watch it all on TV, because that’s not the same and you know it.” He forced my gaze up to meet his, and his voice softened. “I know you’re scared, but do you know why I want to show you everything? The boat, the sea, Italy?” I shook my head, not knowing where he was heading. “I want to be on your side when you experience things for the first time. I want to be the first one in everything you do.”
My breath hitched in my throat. “Why?”
“Because you taught me that first moments matter. We don’t forget them. Like our first kiss or our first date. Or the way I’m going to kiss you, right here, right now.”
In one swift movement, he pulled me to him. His lips found mine with a hunger I had never seen from him before. It was delicate yet possessive, soft yet determined. A delicious shiver tore through me with warmth that radiated from inside out, filling me, calming me a little, persuading me that I was ready. My head was spinning when he pulled back, and for a fraction of a moment I forgot he was still waiting for my decision.
There was so much hope and warmth in his gesture and expression that I knew I had lost the battle with myself. For him I was going to face my fears.
As if sensing my crumbling resolution, Jett said, “You were right when you said that no matter how many years may pass or how many good or bad experiences you have in life, first memories are priceless. From now on, I want to be in all of yours, so no one can take them from you. From us.”
“I’m still afraid.”
The wind blew a strand of hair in my face. Gently, he pushed it back, his eyes focused on me.
“All beginnings are scary, like all endings are sad, but that’s the journey and everything in between is worth experiencing. He gestured at the helicopter. “I was joking about me flying. I want to sit next to you and enjoy the tour. I want to hold your hand, help you get over your acrophobia, so I’ve hired a professional who’ll show us the view. If you see it through, you take the fear out of flying. You know, fear is nothing but a trick of your mind, because we both know you’ve never been in a helicopter. You’ve never crashed. The odds are one in a billion.”
I took a deep breath and nodded slowly before I could change my mind. I figured in the event we crashed, at least I’d die with a sexy guy on my side and plenty of happy memories. And nobody could say I hadn’t tried to talk him out of this madness.
“Okay.” I whispered. “But if—”
“No ifs,” Jett said, determined. “Everything will turn out fine. It always does. You’ll see this entire experience is good for our baby, too.”
It’s not even born yet, I wanted to point out like I had several times during our heated conversation when he mentioned his rigid beliefs on prenatal education. Jett supported the belief that the majority of neurons in an adult’s brain were formed during the first five months inside the mother’s womb. Soon after our arrival from Italy, he had started to implement his belief by giving me more responsibilities and tasks at work so our unborn could learn. Not that I complained, but claiming conquering my fears would benefit my baby was ridiculous.
Shortly after, our pilot arrived. His reassuring smile calmed me a little, and after we went through the usual precautionary safety and emergency instructions, I decided he seemed competent enough. I didn’t know if my fear was written across my forehead or whether Jett had mentioned something to him, but he assured me he had thirty years of flying experience. And then my decision was made.
Jett helped me to get into the helicopter and the pilot handed us both aviation headsets. As he switched on a few buttons, my head started to hurt and my heart began to beat so hard I feared it might be about to burst. Being afraid was an understatement. I was paralyzed to the spot, barely able to suck in one shaky breath after another. Sitting next to Jett, with him smiling at me in that confident way of his, I realized that agreeing to give this a try was pure madness. I opened my mouth to tell him I had changed my mind when the machine whirred to life and we began to take off. My nails dug into the seat because it was the only thing that felt real—until Jett grabbed my hand. The warmth of his fingers seeped into my skin, soothing me, reminding me that he was here for me. Whether I wanted it or not, I had to trust his word that everything would be okay.
***
Jett had promised that the trip would be over in twenty minutes. And it was, down to the exact minute, even though it felt like an eternity. During our flight, the pilot showed us the breathtaking scenery New York City’s skyline had to offer. As we soared above the Hudson River and flew right by the magnificent Statue of Liberty, my awe, eventually, grew bigger than my fear. Looking down at the high buildings, the lines of vehicles, and the small dots that I assumed were people, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we had been transferred to a different dimension where reality had become fantasy, and the ordinary had turned into the extraordinary.
Jett’s eyes connected with mine. “Are you okay, baby?” he whispered, the deep baritone of his voice barely audible over the engine’s whirring. Only then did I notice that I had tightened my grip on his arm. I let go quickly and placed my hands on the armrests, my knuckles turning white as I clutched at them for support.
“I’m fine.” I nodded just in case my thin voice betrayed my lie.
The helicopter dipped low over the beach. Gazing out the window, I realized that, being rich, Jett had probably seen it all before, and that everything he did—he was doing it for me. To our left stretched out the city. To our right was nothing but sparkling water. The sun was shining, heating my frozen insides and melting my core. Or maybe it wasn’t the heat, but the way Jett kept regarding me, his thumb stroking my skin, his fingers interlacing with mine.
I smirked at his mysterious smile.
Oh, God. I hated surprises.
Jett knew this little fact, and yet he was still trying to get his way. I could only hope he wasn’t aiming for crazy.
Chapter 2
“I’M NOT GETTING on that thing. Sorry,” I said. Jett and I were standing on a narrow landing strip in front of the tiniest helicopter I had ever seen. Okay, I had never seen one in real life so I couldn’t really judge it based on its size, but it looked horribly fragile, with barely an inch of metal standing between me and a deep plunge into sure death. Jett knew how much I liked solid ground beneath my feet. “I don’t want to crash and die.”
“No one’s dying, Brooke.” His brows shot up, amused. In fact, he was having a hard time not to laugh, which I could tell from the way his lips kept jerking at the corners. My temper boiled just a little bit. I had issues with height. No big deal. A lot of people did. And I was ready to tell him just that when he interrupted me.
“Do I have to remind you that you also went on board with me? What’s the difference?”
“It was a boat, Jett. There was water all around us, and I can swim. I cannot fly. I don’t want to get on a helicopter, thousands of miles up in the air with no ground under my feet.”
“You’ll like it, I promise.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. Glaring, I inhaled his scent, fighting with the voice inside my head that kept telling me to give it a shot.
Try everything once.
No frickin’ way in hell.
“I’ve done this a thousand times, and as you can see, I’m still alive. Just close your eyes and hold on to my arm while I get us to our destination—safe. I’ll help you overcome your fear of heights,” Jett said, soothing me with that deep voice of his that could probably persuade a grizzly to give up his half-eaten prey.
“Tell that to my subconscious. Even if I closed my eyes, I’d still know you were flying. I’d feel it in my bones that I’m high up in the sky with no way but down.” The thought made me shiver with dread, and a trickle of sweat ran down my spine.
Jett took a half-step back, regarding me. “What’s wrong with me flying?”
Oh, God. Was that the only thing he was worried about? That I might be questioning his competence and abilities? I groaned inwardly.
“I’m sure you’re an awesome pilot.” How could I explain to a man who loved taking risks and who had once been addicted to adrenaline, that I was scared of a lot of things, including flying, and that I harbored absolutely no wish to overcome this particular fear—and especially not in a helicopter, which was more prone to crashing than an airplane.
“But?” Jett drew out the word, prodding. Why couldn’t he just drop it?
Okay, I admit, maybe I couldn’t pay him the same level of confidence I might give a professional pilot. The way I saw it, would I rather have surgery performed on me in a hospital ER by the person I had hot sex with, or by a person who was unbiased, with plenty of experience and a resume to demonstrate his skills? As much as I loved Jett, the decision was a no-brainer.
“Look. I know I’m being unreasonable.” I heaved an exaggerated sigh. “But I’m not like you.” It was true. The guy had no fears. He’d jump headfirst into any situation just so he could demonstrate he wasn’t scared.
“It’s not that different from a plane. It just feels more real.” His eyes glimmered with pride. I could hear it in his voice. I could see it in his confident stance, and I was once again reminded he did all kinds of crazy stuff, thanks to his father’s competitive upbringing and bank account. And what did he mean by “real?”
My fear was instantly magnified at the thought of sensations up in the air being more intense. I didn’t want intense. I wanted earth—or at least a working parachute.
Taking one step back, I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. I was not getting on a helicopter where I could feel every jolt, jerk, and shaking. Not when the tiniest possibility existed that a bird might collide with us, or something dropped from the sky, making us crash. And particularly not when Jett might be tempted to show off with some impressive aerobatic maneuver in midair such as loops and spins. I had seen those on TV, and while the crowd usually cheered, I preferred to stare, horrified, thankful for choosing my profession wisely.
“My point is, I’m not keen on being strapped to a seat with no option to exit. I want to be able to jump.”
The corner of his lips twitched again at my choice of words. Jumping off a plane—why was it so easy to imagine him suggesting just that?
Because it’s probably one of his favorite hobbies? Do not even go there, Stewart!
I felt sick already. Holding onto Jett’s arm for support, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jett began to rub my back, but the movement didn’t manage to soothe me.
“Baby, there’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re not flying far,” he insisted. “Everyone’s doing it in NY. It will be fun.”
Yeah, right!
Fun for him to fly. Nightmare for me. But fun for him, nevertheless, to see me sweating a river.
“Why can’t we just take a taxi?”
“Because it’d spoil your surprise.”
I covered my eyes and groaned, hating the fact that I had to disappoint him, hating the fact that he kept persisting. “As much as I want to, I can’t.”
He cupped my face and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I want you to see your hometown the way you’ve never seen it before. And don’t say you can watch it all on TV, because that’s not the same and you know it.” He forced my gaze up to meet his, and his voice softened. “I know you’re scared, but do you know why I want to show you everything? The boat, the sea, Italy?” I shook my head, not knowing where he was heading. “I want to be on your side when you experience things for the first time. I want to be the first one in everything you do.”
My breath hitched in my throat. “Why?”
“Because you taught me that first moments matter. We don’t forget them. Like our first kiss or our first date. Or the way I’m going to kiss you, right here, right now.”
In one swift movement, he pulled me to him. His lips found mine with a hunger I had never seen from him before. It was delicate yet possessive, soft yet determined. A delicious shiver tore through me with warmth that radiated from inside out, filling me, calming me a little, persuading me that I was ready. My head was spinning when he pulled back, and for a fraction of a moment I forgot he was still waiting for my decision.
There was so much hope and warmth in his gesture and expression that I knew I had lost the battle with myself. For him I was going to face my fears.
As if sensing my crumbling resolution, Jett said, “You were right when you said that no matter how many years may pass or how many good or bad experiences you have in life, first memories are priceless. From now on, I want to be in all of yours, so no one can take them from you. From us.”
“I’m still afraid.”
The wind blew a strand of hair in my face. Gently, he pushed it back, his eyes focused on me.
“All beginnings are scary, like all endings are sad, but that’s the journey and everything in between is worth experiencing. He gestured at the helicopter. “I was joking about me flying. I want to sit next to you and enjoy the tour. I want to hold your hand, help you get over your acrophobia, so I’ve hired a professional who’ll show us the view. If you see it through, you take the fear out of flying. You know, fear is nothing but a trick of your mind, because we both know you’ve never been in a helicopter. You’ve never crashed. The odds are one in a billion.”
I took a deep breath and nodded slowly before I could change my mind. I figured in the event we crashed, at least I’d die with a sexy guy on my side and plenty of happy memories. And nobody could say I hadn’t tried to talk him out of this madness.
“Okay.” I whispered. “But if—”
“No ifs,” Jett said, determined. “Everything will turn out fine. It always does. You’ll see this entire experience is good for our baby, too.”
It’s not even born yet, I wanted to point out like I had several times during our heated conversation when he mentioned his rigid beliefs on prenatal education. Jett supported the belief that the majority of neurons in an adult’s brain were formed during the first five months inside the mother’s womb. Soon after our arrival from Italy, he had started to implement his belief by giving me more responsibilities and tasks at work so our unborn could learn. Not that I complained, but claiming conquering my fears would benefit my baby was ridiculous.
Shortly after, our pilot arrived. His reassuring smile calmed me a little, and after we went through the usual precautionary safety and emergency instructions, I decided he seemed competent enough. I didn’t know if my fear was written across my forehead or whether Jett had mentioned something to him, but he assured me he had thirty years of flying experience. And then my decision was made.
Jett helped me to get into the helicopter and the pilot handed us both aviation headsets. As he switched on a few buttons, my head started to hurt and my heart began to beat so hard I feared it might be about to burst. Being afraid was an understatement. I was paralyzed to the spot, barely able to suck in one shaky breath after another. Sitting next to Jett, with him smiling at me in that confident way of his, I realized that agreeing to give this a try was pure madness. I opened my mouth to tell him I had changed my mind when the machine whirred to life and we began to take off. My nails dug into the seat because it was the only thing that felt real—until Jett grabbed my hand. The warmth of his fingers seeped into my skin, soothing me, reminding me that he was here for me. Whether I wanted it or not, I had to trust his word that everything would be okay.
***
Jett had promised that the trip would be over in twenty minutes. And it was, down to the exact minute, even though it felt like an eternity. During our flight, the pilot showed us the breathtaking scenery New York City’s skyline had to offer. As we soared above the Hudson River and flew right by the magnificent Statue of Liberty, my awe, eventually, grew bigger than my fear. Looking down at the high buildings, the lines of vehicles, and the small dots that I assumed were people, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we had been transferred to a different dimension where reality had become fantasy, and the ordinary had turned into the extraordinary.
Jett’s eyes connected with mine. “Are you okay, baby?” he whispered, the deep baritone of his voice barely audible over the engine’s whirring. Only then did I notice that I had tightened my grip on his arm. I let go quickly and placed my hands on the armrests, my knuckles turning white as I clutched at them for support.
“I’m fine.” I nodded just in case my thin voice betrayed my lie.
The helicopter dipped low over the beach. Gazing out the window, I realized that, being rich, Jett had probably seen it all before, and that everything he did—he was doing it for me. To our left stretched out the city. To our right was nothing but sparkling water. The sun was shining, heating my frozen insides and melting my core. Or maybe it wasn’t the heat, but the way Jett kept regarding me, his thumb stroking my skin, his fingers interlacing with mine.
