Page 93 of Catching Sparks

“Why are we at the airport?” I ask, my tone lighter than I anticipated.

Garrison smirks, releasing my hand to put the car in park. “I’m grovelling, honey.”

“What?”

“Wait here.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he’s out of the car and rounding the hood to get to my side. Opening my door, he extends his hand, and I take it, ignoring how shaky I am.

“Don’t be nervous. You’ll like what I have planned,” he assures me.

The airport is small, a far cry from the one in Calgary. Only a few cars are in the parking lot, but the roaring noise of airplane engines is still there.

I step out of the car, and Garrison leads me to the trunk. He pops it, and my brows jump at the first sight of the carry-on bag and suitcases tucked inside. The shiny black suitcase on the left that looks brand new must be his because the pastel purple one with scuffs on every corner and a dent on the front is mine.

“I hope you at least packed my favourite underwear,” I say, watching as he lifts them both from the trunk and sets their wheels on the pavement before looping the carry-on over the handle of his.

It doesn’t worry me at all that he could have been wandering around my house, snooping in all my drawers, and I take that as a good sign.

“Bryce packed your bag. I wouldn’t have put a single pair inside.”

A laugh bubbles up my throat. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

He closes the truck and grabs both suitcase handles before leading the way to the airport. His sunglasses are tucked by the arm into the open collar of his shirt, and I have to look away before I combust. He’s an asshole for looking like this right now, and I think he knows it.

Shifting closer to him, I ask, “How did you manage to get Bryce to help you pack my bag? She’s not exactly your biggest fan.”

“Johnny has a way with people.”

“That explains it. Does everyone know where we’re going?”

“Yes. You don’t have to worry about anything. The studio is covered as well. I assumed that would be your biggest concern.”

“Shit! My job!” I shout, halting on the pavement. “How did I forget about the studio? I can’t leave it closed for— How long are we even going to be gone for, Garrison? And then there’s Wade! You can’t abandon the ranch either. Take us back. You can grovel at home.”

Garrison’s expression remains calm, but I spy the hint of humour lightening the green of his eyes. Releasing his suitcase, he tugs me close by the waist and tips his head to brush his lips over my forehead.

“Take a breath, honey. We’re fine. I’ve already taken care of everything. I’ve got you.”

I lean into his touch, starved for it. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything. The studio will be open just like normal, and Wade has already given his approval for me to go. There’s no loose ends here. I promise.”

My eyes shut of their own accord, and I sigh, nodding softly enough not to lose the feel of his lips on my skin. “I’ll want to call everyone to check in while we’re gone.”

“Of course.”

“Alright. We can go, then.”

He gives my waist a squeeze before releasing me and grabbing the suitcase handle again. Maybe I should offer to take my own suitcase, but I’m liking him doing things for me right now. It feels appropriate.

Once we get inside the airport, my curiosity takes over. Bypassing the entirety of the main check-in area, Garrison pulls two passports out of his carry-on and hands me mine. He leads us toward a separate section of the airport, and we move through security at a quick pace.

“You’re going to have to tell me where we’re going sooner or later,” I warn him, my head whipping in every direction as I try to find something to expose our destination.

He only smiles, staying quiet. I keep up with his long strides, too antsy to linger behind him. The walk through the airport is quick, but once we get to a set of doors that lead directly onto the tarmac, I grow still.

“If you’re about to drop that we’re taking a private plane to wherever it is we’re going, I may pass out,” I warn him.

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