Page 102 of Passenger Princess

He shakes his head and cuts me off.

“I’ve got a friend who was let go from Five Star a while ago. A nerd, but a good guy. You’d like him. Turns out, when Hank sold the company, he put stipulations in place so even if we get fired or let go, they have to honor our pension. It’s in an account Hank made when we joined up, and Greg and Five Star can’t touch it. So fuck it, they fire me, I still get paid out ina few years.”

I stare at him for what feels like an eternity, my mouth open with this news.

“Well, that would have been good to know weeks ago, Jaime.”

“Why?”

“So I didn’t spend every momentpanickingabout what would happen to you if things got out! I’ve been worriedsickthere would be an article like this”—I lift my phone to indicate what I mean—“exposing us, and you’d regret evenlookingtwice at me.” It’s a confession I don’t mean to give, but I do all the same.

“Ava, baby,” he says, coming closer to me, his face suddenly soft.

“I don’t want you to look back and think you spent your whole life working for something only to throw it away just because of me.”

He gets into the bed fully now, pulling me into his lap and brushing a hand down my back.

“That would never happen, Ava,” he says, then shifts his hand under my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Never, okay? If anything, you showed me I’ve been wasting my life away looking forward to some far-off future I wasn’t even excited about. I’ve been unhappy with Five Star for three years, and you’re right, Ava, life is too fucking short. If they let me go because of us, it’s for the best. It can give me the opportunity to try my own thing, too.”

“Try…try your own thing?”

“I’ve got good references. I don’t want to be in the field forever, but without Hank running Five Star, there’s a gap in the industry for a reliable agency. Atlas Oaks won’t stay with them if I’m not there, so they’re a good place to start. I’d volleyed with the idea a bit in my head for a while, before you were even in the picture, Ava, but Hank mentioned it to me last night, and it's making more and more sense to me.”

I bite my lip, staring at him.

“Now, you gotta pack and make sure Peach uses the litter box. Can you do that while I call my buddy? He’s looking into things, and I haven’t heard from him since I talked to him last night.”

I nod, then shift to sit on the edge of the bed, the anxiety stilltaking over me, my mind spinning from all of the new revelations we’ve had in such a short amount of time.

Jaime pulls his phone from his pocket, starting to dial before he looks back at me, pauses and comes back. He moves, squatting in front of me until we’re face-to-face.

“In case I haven’t been clear, Ava. I’m wildly, obsessively, crazy in love with you. A stupid article or a job I don’t even like anymore does not change that. My job right now is to keep you safe, keep you happy, and make sure nothing touches you. You understand me?”

My mouth is open as I gape at him and the ease and casualness with which he said that.

“You love me?” I whisper.

“You’re a smart girl, Ava. You knew I was in love with you that first night.”

I smile, letting the giddy excitement ofJaime Wilde loving mecrash over me. “You know I love you too, right? Maybe not from the very first night,I’m not a psycho, and you werereallygrumpy, but—” I start, then giggle when he tackles me to the bed hovering over me. “Okay, okay, I have loved you since the moment you told me I was a blonde with a hot body. I love when guys are kind of mean to me. Probably some deep-seated daddy issue, you kn?—”

He cuts me off with a deep kiss that takes the breath from my lungs and ends much, much too quickly before he stands up and puts a hand out to me. “All right, come on, Princess. We gotta get on the road.”

I grab his hand, letting him pull me up to him. “Can we get coffee on the way?” I ask with a sweet smile.

He sighs. “We’re cutting it close, Ava.”

“I’m begging you,” I say, clasping my hands together. “I would give you my firstborn child if you take me to get an iced coffee so I don’t have to sit in a room with fifty shrieking pageant queens uncaffeinated.”

The edges of his lips tug up in a small smile before he crosses his arms on his chest. “It’s already mine.”

My brows furrow before a frown follows suit in confusion. “What?”

“Your firstborn. It’s already mine, Ava, whether I get you coffee or not.” His hand moves, brushing beneath my chin and tipping it up. “And your second, if you want one of those.”

“Oh,” I whisper, my eyes wide.

“And because I do want to eventually one day get my shot to give you those kids, who will have your eyes and your hair and my immaculate sense of humor?—”

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