CHAPTER TWELVE

The driver took them back to the same small, private airport they had gone to before. They boarded the helicopter and buckled their seatbelts. It wasn’t quite as nerve wracking this time since she had done this before, but when Derek reached for her hand, she let him take it.

“You doing okay?” Derek asked her.

“I’m good,” she said, looking out the window.

“We’re going to do lunch first if you don’t mind,” Derek said, looking at his phone. “My client is running late.”

“Sure, lunch is good,” she said.

“So tell me something that I don’t know about you, Chloe.” She was glad she was still looking out the window. What he didn’t know about her could fill the pages of a novel. With a neutral expression, she turned back towards him and said, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. What was the last book you read?”

“Pole dancing for dummies,” she said.

He laughed, “Come on, tell me something real. What kind of books do you like? What kind of movies do you hate? What kind of music do you have on your I-Pod?”

“Okay, let’s see. I like to read books with history in them. Not just dry, boring history, but when they weave it into a novel, I like that. I don’t like the sappy romance stuff, Heathcliff and all that tortured romantic hero stuff never really did it for me.”

“Okay, good. See, you revealed something and the sky didn’t fall in on us. Let’s try another one. What kind of movies do you hate?”

“Sappy romance,” she said.

He smiled and said, “I’m detecting a theme here.”

She shrugged, “It’s just not real life. I like mysteries, biographies, stuff that makes you think.”

“Me too,” he said. “But I haven’t quite given up on the possibility that sappy romance can exist.”

She didn’t respond to that. Instead, she said, “My I-Pad is mostly classic rock. I like some of the new country rock, and I love jazz and the blues. I’m not a huge fan of pop music or rap.”

“Food?”

“I like it,” she said.

Smiling, he said, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Chinese,” she said.

“Chinese is good. What about Japanese? Sushi?”

“I like my food to be cooked,” she said. “But I do like tempura vegetables and rice.”

“Okay, so no anchovies on the pizza?”

“Only if you want to eat it all yourself,” she said. They were both silent again, and Chloe looked back out the window. It was nice just having “ordinary” conversation with him. It had been so long since she’d done that with any man that it was strange but nice.

“We’re getting ready to land,” he told her. She felt his hand tighten on hers slightly. Almost protectively as the helicopter descended. A man who was protective instead of exploitive was an anomaly to her as well.

The car took them to a harbor. At the end of the pier was a tiny little restaurant. There wasn’t much else there except for a few little bait and tackle kiosks.

“Where are we?” she asked him.

“This town is called Round Pond. This place is the Round Pond Lobster House, and the lobster here is worth dying for,” he said.

“Well let’s get in there then,” she said, “I can’t wait.”

Once inside, they ordered their food at a long, redwood counter. The little place served lobster, steamers, corn on the cob and chips. That was all that was on the menu, and when Chloe looked surprised, Derek said, “Trust me, it’s enough.”

Trust me, she thought. She’d been doing that a lot.

They got their food and took it out to one of the picnic tables outside looking out across the harbor. Once they dug in, Chloe had to admit that Derek was right. She had never tasted anything that melted so readily and so lusciously in her mouth. It was like heaven in a shell, and she ate way too much of it.

“Go away! Shoo!” she heard Derek say while she was gazing adoringly at what was left on her plate.

She jerked up her head and said, “Who, me?”

He laughed, “No, the big gull right there that keeps staring at us.”

Chloe looked down where he was looking. On the ground was a white seagull that was not big at all. He was average sized at best, and he seemed to be there picking crumbs off the ground.

“He’s big?” she asked.

“Big enough,” he said with a distressed look on his face.

“Oh my goodness! Stingrays and birds! You’re afraid of birds!”

“I am not afraid of birds! I’m just…I just don’t care for them,” he said.

“Any of them?”

“The ones in cages are alright.”

She laughed, “You know that you could probably step on that bird and do some serious damage, right? You’re a big guy.”

“Have you ever seen The Birds?” he asked.

“Alfred Hitchcock? Of course.”

“They have talons and beaks that are sharp, and they could do serious damage if they wanted to…”

She was cracking up. “You weren’t exposed to many animals as a child were you?” she asked.

He shrugged, “I guess not. We had a dog and horses, and I visited the Bronx zoo a few times.”

“We’ll have to take you more often and get you used to the idea that they’re not all out to kill you.”

He smiled then and said, “Good, my plan worked.”

“What plan was that?”

“The one where I pretend to be scared in order to get you to spend more time with me.”

Chloe laughed. “Good try, scared-y cat.” Chloe leaned down and held out a piece of a cracker. The seagull came over and took it right out of her hand. Derek shuddered, and she laughed again.

**

After lunch, the car took them to a place called Rockport where the house they were meeting the client at was located. Derek told her that the house was at the end of a private drive on over five acres of land. It had 350 feet of deep water shorefront, five bedrooms, six bathrooms and over eight-thousand square feet of space.

“Wow, who needs an eight-thousand square foot home?” she said.

“He and his wife were very active in charitable events in the community before their retirement. They hosted a lot of events there. Which reminds me, I have an event I have to attend in New York on Saturday night? Would you be interested in going along with me, as my date?”

“Oh, um…”

“We are dating, aren’t we? I mean we’ve had dinner, re-decorated a park.”

“That one wasn’t a date; you were stalking then.”

He smiled, “Oh that’s right. But anyways, now we’ve had our second helicopter ride and lunch. We’ve spent two nights together. Two of the better nights of my life I might add.”

Chloe didn’t miss the part where he said, “Two of the better nights,” and not “Two of the best.” But he had a point, technically, what they were doing would be considered dating by most people. The idea of going to New York disturbed her more than the idea of “dating” Derek however.

“Where in New York is this event being held and what is the charity?”

“It’s in Rochester at a private residence of one of my clients, and it’s a children’s hospital foundation. They have a fantastic dinner and a silent auction and dancing. It’s a good cause and a great time. Please say you’ll go.”

“I’ll say that I’ll consider it,” she said with a smile.

“You consider a lot of things,” he said, smiling too. He leaned in then and pressed his lips to hers. After kissing her lips, he let his lips slide up to her ear, and he whispered, “Would you consider spending another night with me?”

She leaned her head back into the seat so that her neck was exposed. Derek took the hint, and she suddenly felt hot breath against her neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His kisses were so hot that they practically burned on contact. He reached up and put his hand in her hair, and as he kissed her neck, he ran his fingers through it. His other hand slid down around her waist and pulled her in close while his mouth dropped down to her shoulder and began to spread kisses there. She could hear his breaths speeding up to match her own, and she felt herself tingling all over.

“Here we are, sir,” the driver who had put the window between them down a discreet inch said.

Derek growled. He took a breath and composed himself before saying, “Thank you, Mason.” He looked at Chloe, and the desire was apparent on his face and in his eyes. “Can we pick this up later?” his voice was husky and still breathless.

She smiled, and in a husky voice of her own she said, “I’ll consider it.”