Page 94 of Catching Sparks

His grin is tamed yet somehow pulse skipping. “Should I just carry you out now, then?”

“Garrison!” I squeal, my eyes wide and flicking over every inch of the tarmac.

We head outside and turn left toward a slim black-and-gold plane with Swift Edge Records written in white along its side. The door is open, a staircase waiting. I twist, staring up at him in question.

“Yeah, baby. That’s our plane.”

My stomach fill with butterflies to the point of bursting. It’s a task to keep my expression even mildly neutral when all I want is to kiss the hell out of him. I’m supposed to be making him work for his forgiveness, but he’s already off to a great start.

He gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t believe my calm expression, but I don’t care.

“Can we board now?”

Tipping his chin in confirmation, he bumps my shoulder with his. “Go for it. They’re ready for you.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

33

GARRISON

I follow Poppy up the stairs with the suitcases in my hands. She gasps again, louder than before, and steps inside the plane. The pilot is waiting just inside the cabin, and I tip my chin at her as we pass. Poppy’s too enthralled with the interior of the plane to notice the pilot at all.

“This is beautiful,” she breathes.

I agree. It’s all light wood and cream interior with gold accents. Two sets of cream-coloured leather chairs are first, facing one another with a small table between them. On the left side behind them sits a two-seater couch, and opposite that is a larger table with another set of chairs on either side.

The SER stitched into the back of each seat was my decision, as was the colour palette. It’s soft and warm. Easy on the eyes.

“There’s a bedroom through the far door and a bathroom connected to it,” I explain while placing our suitcases in one of the overhead bins.

I set my carry-on on the first chair to my right and then come up behind Poppy, pressing my chest flat to her back. She hums happily, and I smile, breathing her in. The scent of her perfume, in addition to her presence, does a number on my nerves, settling them for the first time in days.

“Are you trying to get me to step into the bedroom with you, Mr. Beckett?” she murmurs, leaning into my embrace.

My arms slip around her middle and hold her tight as I drop my head forward, resting my chin on her shoulder. “I think you’ll like what you find in there.”

“Is that so?”

Rubbing my cheek against her neck, I turn my face inward to kiss her throat. “Hopefully.”

“You shouldn’t be touching me like this. I still have yet to forgive you. I’m pretty sure this is actually cheating.”

“Then tell me to back away,” I dare her.

She shudders in my arms, her breathing shallow. “I can’t.”

“So don’t.”

“What’s waiting for me in the bedroom?”

I take a step forward, moving her with me. She follows my lead and walks on her own, never wriggling free of my grip.

The door is closed on purpose. Nerves swell in my stomach as the unfamiliar situation weighs on me. I swallow thickly and let her open the door, forcing myself not to contemplate it for a second more. I’ve faced far scarier situations in my life and throughout my career. This should be simple for me. It’s not.

The moment Poppy opens the door and the interior of the bedroom comes into view, I hold my breath.

“What . . .” She trails off, looking around the room, taking everything in.

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