She’d gently pulled her hand free from his as the jet achieved cruising altitude. But she’d kept her headphones on for the entire rest of the flight, first pretending she was sleeping, and then—after refusing both a late night snack and the opportunity to nap in the fully appointed bedroom—she finally, truly fell blissfully asleep.
“You should’ve taken the bed,” he’d commented as the plane began its descent, as the flight attendant brought her a mug of coffee and she stirred back to life, adjusting a crick in her neck.
She looked at him questioningly, lifting her headphones off her right ear, even though she’d managed to read his lips. He repeated his words—the look on his handsome face broadcasting his wariness. Yeah, they’d talked and apologized, but it was clear that he still didn’t know quite where he stood with her. Were they friends again, or...?
“I didn’t think I’d really sleep,” she admitted, sipping the coffee carefully, but it wasn’t too hot. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Everything okay?” he asked, and she shook her head and forced a smile.
“My boyfriend’s mother is a literal queen, enough said, right?” It was the tiniest tip of the truth-iceberg, but Thomas nodded.
She sighed with relief as he allowed it to be the conversation ender she’d hoped it would be. She focused on the coffee, dropping her headphones back onto her ears.
She’d obviously dismissed him, yet after she finished and her mug was whisked away, Thomas still held out his hand, offering it to her for the landing.
Tasha took it, knowing that she shouldn’t, that the sensation of their fingers intertwining would—and did—make her foolish heart leap.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no...
She let him go as soon as the jet was safely on the ground, vowing never to do that again. Sister, sister, sister, brother, brother, brother, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, this man was not her brother.
Tasha let him carry her bag off the plane—why not? He wanted to.
She also let him figure out the snafu—as he called it—with the missing helicopter that was supposed to take them the final leg of their journey to the mountain-top resort.
She stood quietly, eating the wrapped breakfast sandwich the flight attendant had pressed into her hands, watching Thomas work out the details as he instead arranged for a car to drive them there. And she realized that maybe this was a good thing—being forced into his company for a full week. The heart wants what the heart wants. And her heart—her fully grown-up woman’s heart—still wanted Thomas, who didn’t want her.
Which meant that she really was the perfect bride for Ted, assuming the worst case scenario was going to happen.
So now the billion dollar question was Could she be friends with this man? Play at being his little sister? Return to their seemingly easy friendship, just like that, after laughing together at her childish, foolish, embarrassing, happened-five-long-years-ago, White-Russian induced mistake?
Sure, why not? was followed by an immediate No.
Sure, she could—if she wanted to be a masochist and continuously rub her own nose in the life she’d never have.
No, she couldn’t, if she had any amount of self-respect, since she also had a burning awareness of her own needs and a strong desire to keep her heart safe.
Spending time with Thomas King wasn’t gonna cut it in the keeping-her-heart-safe department.
So as they were waiting for the SUV to get cleaned and gassed up for the brain-numbingly long drive up to the lodge, Tash finished her sandwhich, took off her headphones, and turned to Thomas.
“I’m glad we talked on the plane,” she told him.
He, of course, heard the word she hadn’t yet spoken and said it for her. “But...?”
Tasha forced a smile. “Ted doesn’t, um, know much about you,” she understated. Ted knew everything. Well, not everything, but damn close. Although she was not lying when she added, “Nothing about, you know, that... awfulness—” another understatement “—with Sharon, when she stole all that money from Dwayne.”
Her mother—it was easier for Tash to call her by her first name, Sharon—had done some really stupid things back when she was in her raging alcoholic phase, before she’d settled into her current ongoing pattern of sobriety broken up by painful but blessedly brief and always remorseful relapses. But among the most stupid had been stealing tens of thousands of dollars from a violent and abusive ex named Dwayne who’d kidnapped Tash and her soon-to-be-Aunt-Mia to try to get his money back.
Tasha still had brilliantly clear memories of playing with Thomas at the edge of a pristine lake. Uncle Alan had taken them both to a friend’s cabin to hide, since Dwayne was looking for Tasha. Thomas had come along to help.
But somehow Dwayne had tracked them there.
Thomas, just a kid himself, had been no match for the man’s brass knuckles, and he went down hard from a punch to his face, hitting his head when he fell.
Somehow Aunt Mia had found Tasha—that part was a blur. But she clearly remembered sitting with Mia’s arms wrapped around her in the world’s dirtiest bathtub in the world’s grimiest bathroom, singing songs so that Uncle Alan and his SEAL friends could find and rescue them.
The SEALs had had use of some extremely powerful microphones and other high tech equipment. As far as the bathtub went, they were sitting there in hopes they’d be protected if and when bullets started flying.
But Tash and Mia had been rescued by the SEALs without any gunfire—which was the true Navy SEAL, covert-ops, super-stealthy way.
“That was... kind of a major thing that happened to you,” Thomas pointed out now, as they stood in the airplane hanger, waiting on their car. “Being kidnapped like that, in that kind of danger...?”
Tasha nodded. “Yeah, I just... It never came up and... Honestly, it was so long ago, I really barely remember it myself.” She caught herself. Truth be told, she’d had terrible nightmares about Dwayne for years. She’d honestly believed Dwayne had killed Thomas, leaving him bloody and unconscious as he threw her into the back of his car. “Okay, so that’s a lie. Sorry. I just... downplayed it all for years. Uncle Alan was so worried about me, and I just, you know, I’m fine. I had to pretend.”
Thomas nodded as he narrowed his eyes, but then he shook his head. “Actually, you didn’t. Have to pretend. It’s okay to ask for help.”
“I know, and... I really am fine now,” she said. And that was, absolutely, the truth. Years of hard work and therapy had paid off. It didn’t hurt that another crystal-clear memory was of the moment she’d finally returned home to find Thomas, battered but alive. She’d jumped into his arms.
“And yet your fiancé doesn’t know about...?” Thomas let his voice trail off.
“Ted’s not my fiancé.” Okay, that came out sounding a little too defensive, so she forced a smile to soften the words.
“Maybe not yet,” Thomas said. “But after you meet the royal mom and dad...?”
He was not entirely wrong. It was, however, going to take more than a week with Queen Wila to get her official approval. Ted had warned Tash about that. This game was gonna be a long one. She sighed.
“This week is only the first obstacle in an intricate course,” she told Thomas, attempting to turn it into a joke. “I’m pretty sure this is my version of BUD/S training, with a multitude of challenges—and probably more than one written test.”