Page 57 of Failure to Match

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Jackson picked up a headset. “You’ll see.”

Bensen was—once again—failing spectacularly at keeping his amusement in check. Weren’t butlers supposed to be, like, masters of professional stoicism? Wasn’t that a thing?

“I’d kind of rather you tell me now.”

Instead, Jackson placed the headset over my ears, rendering the world eerily silent. This was about as good as noise-canceling technology could get, I gathered. I couldn’t hear a single thing. Not until he switched on his mic.

“Can you hear me?”

As it turned out, I was also highly allergic to his voice. The stark clarity of it through the headphones poured over me like sizzling honey, making my breath hitch.

He heard it.

Heat bloomed over my cheeks as his smirk died, his glacier eyes thawing at an alarmingly rapid pace. Or maybe my brain was making shit up. It did that from time to time.

Jackson blinked away from me and cleared his throat, signaling at Bensen with a wave.

“Come on.” He offered me his hand again. “If we don’t go now, we might miss it.”

I hesitated. Why wouldn’t he just tell me where we were going? And why did we need to take a helicopter to get there?

He huffed a semifrustrated chuckle, which… honestly sounded a little erotic through the headset. His voice was just so deliciously deep. I hated it.

“We’re just going to a restaurant. I swear I’m not kidnapping you.” And as soon as I opened my mouth to ask, he said, “You’ve given me one hour. I’m not wasting half of it fighting traffic. That’s why we’re not driving.”

All right. Fine. Evening traffic in downtown Toronto was an absolute nightmare, I’d give him that.

His brows pulled together when I still didn’t give him my hand. “Do you truly have so little faith in me?”

“Yes.”

There was a short beat of silence, and then he smiled. Full-on grinned like this was excellent news. Unsurprisingly, I found that I was also allergic to his happiness. My pulse spiked as the corners of his eyes crinkled with delight.

“You want to know a little secret?” He still hadn’t dropped his hand.

“Only if it’s relevant to helping me find you a suitable match.” I had very little interest in learning anything about him otherwise.

I swear his eyes were twinkling as they slid between mine, his smile jerking. “I kind of like it when you’re mean to me.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Pardon?”

Bensen placed one hand on Jackson’s shoulder and made a signal I didn’t recognize.

“All right, we have to go.”

This time, I wasn’t provided with the option to hesitate. His fingers slipped over mine, gently pulling me toward the double doors.

My lips parted when we stepped out onto the rooftop. The chopper was way bigger than I’d been expecting. Very black, verysleek, andverylarge. Were all helicopters this huge? I’d never seen one up close before.

Jackson’s soft chuckle vibrated through my headphones, and I realized I was gawking. My mouth snapped closed and remained that way… until we stepped inside.

Holy shit.

The cabin looked like it’d been plucked straight out of a compact private jet. I’d never been in one of those either, but I’d seen pictures. It was so roomy in here. Andswanky. The space was entirely closed off, a champagne-colored partition separating us from the operators.

Speaking of champagne, there was a bottle waiting for us on the table.