My palms get slippery as I try to hold on to the luggage. I’m not sure what Rowan planned but a suitcase of this size seems like overkill.
“Don’t worry about anything. I even packed your sexy clothes.” Ani winks.
My cheeks flush. “Oh my God. You didn’t! How did you even find them?”
“A sister never reveals her secrets. Have fun!” Ani runs to my bathroom and locks herself inside.
“Claire will be home soon to make you dinner.”
“Bye, Mom! Stop worrying about me!”
I tug the door open and find Rowan leaning against the frame with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hello.” He shoots me a small smile.
I nearly melt into the welcome mat when he leans over and places the softest kiss on my forehead. A buzz starts at my head and travels all the way down to my toes.
He pulls away, taking his addictive smell with him. His hand latches onto the handle of my luggage. “We better get going. We’ve got a flight to catch.”
“Flight?” Oh shit.
My life went full-blown Dreamland princess in less than an hour. But instead of a prince on a horse, I ended up with Rowan—the perfect kind of morally gray hero I love reading about.
“Here we are.” He squeezes my thigh with his massive hand.
“Are we stopping somewhere before our flight?” I look out the window, checking out the area that is definitely not the Orlando airport.
A hint of a smile crosses Rowan’s lips as if I said something cute. Someone opens a gate, and the driver steers the Ghost onto the runway.
I blink at the sleek black jet parked on the pavement like this is a casual Friday outing. “Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t joke.”
“Liar.”
I’m rewarded with another small smile.
I wave at the plane. “When you said we had a flight to catch, I thought you meant commercial.”
“God, no.”
“Oh yes. Because mini pretzels and babies crying is so aversive.”
He nods and gives my thigh another reassuring squeeze. “Good. You get it.”
The more time I spend around Rowan, the more I realize he’s not just out of my league—he’s out of my atmosphere. “We’re seriously going on a private plane?”
“Yes.”
I mutter a thank you under my breath as his driver opens the door. I’m stuck staring at the red carpet below me.
Rowan slides out of his seat and walks around the car. “Scared you might get addicted to this kind of lifestyle?”
“That’s the last thought on my mind.” I take a hesitant step toward the red carpet. I don’t think I’ve seen one anywhere but on the TV. My sneakers seem out of place as they press into the plush fabric and my paint-splattered jeans seem absolutely ridiculous.
He buttons his jacket as he looks over his shoulder. His brows pull down as he assesses me. “What’s wrong?”
I point back and forth between us. “You look like you stepped out of a Tom Ford catalog while I resemble someone who sifted through the BOGO bin at Goodwill.” I point to my washed-out sweatshirt. “This isn’t even a Michael Jordan sweatshirt because that wasn’t an option at the thrift store.”
The corner of his lip hitches. “I like your style.” His eyes drag down my body. His hands latch onto the back pockets of my jeans and tug me toward him.