Page 69 of Square Deal

“If you’re not like, dating, how long do you plan on keeping up this, uh,situationship?”

“Enemies with benefits,” I corrected. “We agreed to six weeks. It ends the week before Christmas. Hopefully, he’s fucked me out of his system by then, and I’ve learned not to get attached to a hypothetical future with someone.”

Mel looked out the window as a car pulled up to the house. “Do you see a hypothetical future with him?”

I handed Mel my car keys and shouldered my handbag.

“No,” I said, swallowing thickly. My heart pounded into my throat. That one syllable made me feel sick to my stomach.

The doorbell rang. I opened the door and was greeted by the driver Isaac sent.

Even though Isaac was in Beaufort, he stayed the night at Maddie and Luca’s house. Secrecy’s sake aside, he insisted that I should get the full experience. So, he sent the driver to my house—alone—and promised to meet me at the airstrip.

Mel gave me a hug and told me to have the time of my life.

The airstrip was less than a mile from my house. It was fairly bare-bones, mainly used for tourists to hang glide, and aviation enthusiasts to fly and house their Cessnas.

The old man who ran the place offered the occasional flying lesson, but he was slowing down with age. On rare occasions, the airstrip was graced with the presence of a wealthy traveler flying in a private plane.

I’d met a few big names over the years. I wasn’t a stranger to seeing opulent displays of wealth. The Taylor Creek Inn was a popular spot for celebrities to stay when they were in town, whether they were just bringing their yacht to port or flying in for an event like the Big Rock Tournament. Still, being chauffeured through the gates and onto the tarmac had me feeling lightheaded.

The car door opened and the outside chill flooded in. “If you’ll follow me, Miss Hayes,” the driver said, offering me his hand and helping me out of the town car. “Mr. Lawson is already on board and is expecting you.”

Well, he’d better be expecting me. This was his idea, after all.

But I didn’t say any of that. I smiled and said, “Thank you,” as I straightened up and smoothed out my fitted pencil skirt. I wasn’t exactly sure what Isaac had in mind, so I went for the safe option—stylish business attire.

I gave myself bonus points for the surprise I had underneath.

Nerves slithered up my body like a snaking vine as the driver led me across the tarmac to the clamshell staircase that awaited my arrival. I steadied my breathing to the rhythmic click of my heels against the asphalt.

Gripping the handrail, I climbed up the stairs and was greetedby a lone flight attendant. Blonde hair mixed with gray streaks was pulled back in a low chignon. The trim suit she wore had no company logos.

“Good morning, Miss Hayes. Welcome aboard,” she said as she motioned to the right.

Isaac sat with his ankle propped on top of his knee. His blue suit was striking, as was the wide smile on his face.

He stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and leaned in for a kiss. “Good morning,” he said, sliding his hand onto my hip.

I pecked his lips and smiled. “Hi, yourself.” I couldn’t help how shaky my voice sounded. I was in a private freaking jet with Isaac Lawson.

The oversized leather seats looked more comfortable than a La-Z-Boy recliner. On the other side of the cabin was a sleek couch. An arrangement of fresh-cut calla lilies in a vase added a cheery touch. Apart from the seatbelts and emergency exit signs, it didn’t look like an airplane at all.

Sensing my nerves, Isaac cupped my cheeks in his hands and kissed me again. Slowly, this time. Deeply. “Just breathe, Princess. Enjoy the ride.”

The flight attendant approached us, carrying an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne resting inside. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Lawson, if you’re both ready to depart, the captain is ready for takeoff.”

Isaac gave her some rich as hell billionaire signal of approval. She set the ice bucket on the table, popped the champagne, and poured two glasses. He took both, handed me one, then motioned for us to take our seats.

Side by side in clouds of leather cushions, Isaac held up his champagne flute and toasted. “To living life.”

“Cheers.” I smiled, clinking my glass against his and taking a sip. Alcohol was a good idea. It wasn’t enough to get me drunk or even slightly buzzed, but it did take the edge off.

Who cared if it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet?

Isaac handed our empty champagne flutes to the attendant and then reached across my lap. Without a word, he fastened my seatbelt for me. My lips parted. It was the smallest gesture, but it was enough for me to feel that warningthudin my heart.

The plane taxied to the end of the runway, and Isaac relaxed in his seat. He laid his hand on my thigh, tracing the hem of my skirt. Skating his fingers over my sheer black stockings. I bit my lip, trying to contain my reaction to the heat that pooled low in my belly.

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