Page 64 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

The steward beams a knowing smile at me and nods. “Good choice.”

Of course, it’s a whole spectacle, and everyone stares at Jake as security drags him through the airport. No doubt, they’re wondering if he’s some kind of terrorist, though I’ve yet to hear of a cowboy being detained under those circumstances.

I follow in their wake, given that everyone clears a path when they see them coming, and eventually, after turning many corners and traveling down many corridors, we finally come to a security door.

“You can’t come in here, Miss,” one of the guys says gruffly.

“But I’m with him.”

“I don’t care. You can wait out here.” He nods to a row of seats bolted to the wall.

And so, as Jake is taken through the door, I have no choice but to lower myself down into a seat and wait.

They’ve already held him for an hour. I can only assume, after some rather probing questions that they’re giving him the biggest dressing down ever. I mean, crashing airport security is a big deal, right? If he’d have done that in JFK, we might be in the hospital right now.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting outside the office, still in shock.

Jake’s actions were such a huge gesture, I can hardly believe it. Anyone else might have waited until I got back to the city. They might have phoned me and told me how they felt. Not Jake. He was willing to get himself arrested just to let me know he loves me. I’m still reeling, and I honestly can’t believe it.

But while I’m thrilled at what he did, I’m worried at the same time.

My whole body tingles while I sit here, reliving his dramatic arrival, and yet, I’m scared to death that he’s taken things too far and has managed to get himself arrested. He’s never done something this crazy before. He’s never broken the law before. I really hope he hasn’t managed to give himself a record just to see me.

After what feels like an eternity, the door to the office opens, and Jake walks out. I suppose I should take it as a good sign that he has a smile on his face while shaking one of the security guys’ hands.

A second later, he turns to look at me as I stand, waiting to hear the verdict.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, clearly seeing my worried expression.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I breathe. And then I laugh. “You’re nuts. You know that, right?”

He grins and shrugs. “It was worth it.” Stepping forward and taking hold of my suitcase, he says, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“What did they say?” I ask, walking beside him as we make our way to the exit.

“Something along the lines of, if I ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll end up spending some time behind bars.”

“Oh, Jake.”

“What?” he gazes down at me. “I’m kinda hoping I won’t have to pull another stunt like that again.”

I grin and nod because he’s right. After what just happened, I have a funny feeling I might be staying in the small town I grew up in after all.

When we get to his truck, Elsa greets us with an excited, wagging tail while jumping around in the front seat. I’m sureJake didn’t realize he was going to end up leaving her for hours, but she looks fine. At least he had the good sense to leave the window down. I mean, who’s going to try and steal a truck with a gigantic wolf guarding it?

When we get settled in the truck, he turns to me. “I have so much I want to say.”

“Me, too. But maybe not here.”

He nods knowingly. “Alright.”

And so, with Elsa beside me, Jake peels out of the multistory parking lot and heads in the direction of Baskington. The wind blows tendrils of hair across my face as we travel, and gazing out of the window, this all still feels so surreal.

I should be on a flight to New York right about now. In fact, I would’ve landed by now and probably been on my way into the city. Yet, here I am, sitting in Jake’s truck, sharing the front seat with my now favorite dog in the whole world, and heading back to the place I truly feel is my home.

We arrive at the ranch about forty minutes later. Neither of us has shared a word, just knowing smiles and glances as Jake drove. But now, as I climb out of the truck, I feel a bit awkward and don’t know what to do.

This isn’t my home, is it? And while I pretended it was for a while, that time has passed, so I stand beside the truck, waiting for an invitation.

---