“Busy tonight?” Jackson asked as Holly tapped away on his laptop. She had been frozen in the same spot since he returned from work, poring over RSVPs and finalizing the menu.
“By busy do you mean trying to please all of New York society?’ She spoke without looking up from the screen. “Then, yes, maybe just a little.”
He watched her work, dressed in a Juicy Couture sweat suit with her hair in a ponytail. Her bright-red nails flew over the keys as she typed and every so often, she read something aloud and scrunched up her nose delicately.
“Do you want to take a little break?” Jackson sat on the bed beside her. “We can go grab some dinner.”
“I’m starving.” Holly paused, looking at the screen. “I guess I can finish this later.” She closed the laptop and stretched a bit, like a cat. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Well, I actually made us some reservations.”
“Oh, where?”
“Just a little place owned by a friend.” He grinned, hoping she would be impressed with his choice. “Go get yourself pretty so we can go.”
She frowned, a small pout on her lips. “You mean to tell me that my messy hair and sweatpants aren’t dinner-worthy?”
“If you want to leave now, just as you are, then go ahead and put on some shoes.” He smiled, thinking that she did look fine.
Holly hopped off the bed and went into their shared closet. “What should I wear?”
“Anything you’d like. You always look amazing,” he answered, watching her shadow through the open closet door. Jackson heard the sounds of her clothes dropping to the ground and resisted the urge to go to her.
The past three days at the office, all he’d thought about was the feeling of her lips on his body and the sounds she made when she came. Although they hadn’t touched more than a passing caress or light kiss, it wasn’t for lack of trying. His mother lurked around every corner.
From the moment Jackson came home from work, until the early hours of the morning, his mother was dictating notes to Holly, both of them curled up on the living room couch with seating arrangements and menus. Tonight, Jackson had ensured she was kept busy getting her tickets to a prime Broadway show. He needed Holly all to himself.
“I just have to throw on some makeup and brush my hair.” Holly stepped out of the closet in a fitted black dress, a thin white belt around her narrow waist. A pair of black heels were hooked on her crooked fingers.
Jackson nodded wordlessly, his gaze focused on her shapely form. He loved watching her do these mundane tasks. She did everything with such thoughtful precision. As time passed, he found it harder to keep from falling for the girl from small town Michigan, especially as he watched her transform into the society woman before him.
***
“So, what’s this place?” Holly asked as Rick dropped them off in front of a brick building.
“Only one of the best restaurants in the city,” Jackson said, placing his palm on her lower back.
Haute was intimate, candlelit, and exclusive. They were shown to a small table along the floor-length window that overlooked the city. He watched as Holly looked around at the white linen tabletops. If it was even possible, she looked even better lit by the backdrop of the city on her delicate features.
“What are you getting?” Holly asked, her bright green eyes scanning the menu. She bit her lip and brought her gaze to his, giving him a small smile.
At that moment, Jackson couldn’t care less what he ate. “How about you pick for the both of us?” He closed his menu as a waiter filled their water glasses.
Holly frowned and paused before folding the menu. “I can’t do it.”
“Not feeling it?” Jackson asked, his lips twitching in amusement. Maybe he could get her home early, after all.
“Is it obvious?”
“Maybe just a little.”
Holly giggled. “I’m sorry, squid eggs?”
Jackson let out a laugh. “You’re right, it is shit. I just wanted to treat you somewhere nice.”
“Can we bail and get some real food, please?” Holly asked, her gaze nervously aimed at their waiter who was on his way over. “Or would that be super rude?”
“Let’s go.” He stood and held out his hand to her. He nodded at the waiter and slipped him a tip before taking her down the flight of stairs and out to the busy street below.
“Now what?” Holly looked around at the blank apartment buildings on either side. “We didn’t call Rick and tell him to come get us.”
“Just tell me where you want to eat. SoHo? Drive down to Jersey? Jet up to Maine and get some real lobsters?”
“The funny thing is I know you’re not joking about flying to Maine just for dinner.”
“I never joke about seafood,” Jackson said, his brows furrowed in mock seriousness. He thought back to his musings about taking her to Barbados. He’d have to cancel some meetings, set up a villa, and move some things around, but it would be worth it to get her all to himself and scantily clad, due to the tropical climate. “Holly, how about we really get out of here?” he asked, almost without thinking of the repercussions.
“You want me to call for Rick?” She reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone.
“I mean really get out of here, just the two of us.” Jackson took the phone from her and slipped it back into her bag. “Let’s go away. I want to take you on vacation.”
Holly looked up at him from under her dark lashes. “A vacation? But why, when there’s so much to do here?”
“Can you lay on the beach in New York City? Can you go snorkeling? Zip-lining?”
“No…”
He pulled Holly to him and skimmed her sides with his fingers, thinking of all the things he wanted to do to her. “Holly, I want to take you to Barbados.”
***
“Barbados?” Her jaw dropped. She’d only been to three states in the U.S., and the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. She was hardly a world traveler.
“Yes. You’ll love it! We’ll leave tonight.” With his arm still around her, he hailed a cab and stuffed her inside before pulling out his own cell. “Smyth, it’s Cantrell. Ready the jet for forty minutes. I’m going to Barbados.” He hung up the phone and redialed. “Mrs. Klein, pack bags for me and Holly for three days in a tropical climate, please.” One last call: “Rick, Mrs. Klein has luggage for me. Pick them up and bring them to my hangar at JFK.”
Holly’s mind spun with how quickly it happened. There was only one problem. “Um, Jackson, there’s an issue with this whole vacation idea.”
He looked at her curiously. “We have a plane, luggage, and we’re going to have accommodations by the time we get there. It’s not as if you have to ask your boss for time off.”
“I don’t have a passport.” She cursed herself for never seeing the point in getting that stupid little booklet.
“So?” he asked, turning back to his phone and tapping away.
“So, what about customs? I can’t get into another country without a passport.”
Jackson sighed and put down his cell. “Holly, stop worrying so much. We’re flying private into an American-owned resort. I’m taking care of everything.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles as the airport came into view. “Not to be elitist, but certain rules don’t apply to us.”
“But what about the party?”
“We’ll only be gone a few days. Things won’t fall apart without you.”
Holly jittered a bit as they neared the front of the terminal. Jackson paid the taxi and waved a car forward. It was Rick with their bags. Holly thought she’d never stop being surprised at how smoothly money made things go. She was still thinking about the speed with which the entire trip had been planned when Jackson helped her into the back of the town car and they drove around the side of the terminal to a small gate before the tarmac. A security guard waved them through almost immediately and Rick pulled the car right up to an idling jet.
“This is crazy. I’ve never even been on an airplane before,” she whispered as Jackson walked her to the jet where a pair of pilots stood before a set of steps. She felt like an actress and couldn’t control the bubble of glee rising in her chest.
“Private’s the only way to fly.” Jackson grinned and greeted the pilots, who followed them up and into the plane with their bags.
Holly looked around at the interior of the personal plane. To her right was the cockpit, but to the left was a jet interior right out of a reality television show. To one side was a pristine cream-colored couch and to the left was a pair of plush seats on either side of an elegant wooden table. A flat screen was mounted on one corner above a bar and a small kitchen flanked a door.
“Impressed?” he asked as Rick entered the plane with two paper bags.
“Very.” Holly sat down, almost giddy with excitement.
Rick wished them both a good flight before departing. Jackson held out one of the bags to her as the pilot closed up the plane and prepared for takeoff. She peeked inside to find a cheeseburger and fries.
“Ugh, I think I love you.” She moaned as she pulled out some fries. A good, old-fashioned burger beat out fancy squid eggs any day of the week. She gratefully took a bite.
Jackson crossed to the fridge and pulled out two sodas. “Happy?”
“Jackson, this is amazing. Seriously, no one would ever believe this. I’m in a private jet eating burgers on my way to a vacation with a billionaire. So crazy.” She could hardly believe it herself.
“Good evening, Mr. Cantrell and Ms. McIntyre,” the pilot said over the intercom. “We have been given clearance to taxi onto the runway. So, if you could take your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we can be on our way to sunny Barbados.”
Holly smiled across the table at Jackson as the plane took off, on to their new adventure.