Page 9 of The Protective Gryphen

After a few hours of movies and making out, they were now buckled in, and ready to touch down.

It was when the wheels of the sleek jet touched the tarmac, that they both stared out of the window to see the airport.

There was that telltale bounce of a jet landing, and then the taxiing toward their destination. They were rolling toward the part where private jets landed, and Gryphen was glad.

Finally, he felt safe.

Between Will Jackson and a crash landing…

It was good to be in a location where they had anonymity—for the most part—as much as Jackson James could ever have.

This would give them some breathing room where no one was shooting at Ian—or him.

Because Will Jackson was a man on the edge, and people like that tended to get others killed. They definitely needed a lot of space between them.

It was also space that they needed to ensure that the media would believe that it was Jackson James who had arrived there and not them.

Thank God for rich bosses who knew how to evade the media’s camera lenses.

One picture, and the word would be out that Jackson James wasn’t there.

And they were.

As the pilot opened the cockpit door, he smiled at the two men and shook their hands.

“Gentlemen, you’re here. Mr. James has arranged for your ride to your destination. Head on down because someone is already waiting for you. As for us, we’re staying for a couple of days, just in case we’re instructed to fly you out. We have backup plans in case something goes south.”

Again, Gryphen was grateful to everyone who was helping him keep Ian safe.

It took a village.

Apparently.

“We appreciate that. I’ll call if there’s a situation, okay?”

The man nodded and let them leave.

When they headed down the stairs, Gryphen went first to make sure that Ian was safely blocked by his body. He stayed in front of him as he was scanning the tarmac for anything that was off.

Was it over the top?

YES.

Did he care?

NO.

He’d already taken a few shots in the back, and he’d like to live long enough to see where this romance went. Dying now was bad timing.

Really bad timing.

At the bottom of the jet’s stairs, Gryphen held out his hand and took Ian’s in his to escort him to the limo.

“Let’s get to our hotel, or wherever they’re putting us. I want to get inside until I can get a better feel for the place.”

Honestly, that worked for Ian. He was just happy to be there with Gryphen and was already thinking about this man in a kilt.

Holy shit.

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