Part 23 (1/2)

”What the...?”

Paige had never been on a helicopter. Not even the ones at the carnival. Come to think of it, she'd only been to a carnival twice in her whole life. Both times with her grandmother. Those two times probably took every dime she'd managed to save in a year.

She was the best thing that ever happened to Paige. The person she was today was all thanks to her grandmother. Due to hard work and a firm hand, she'd taught Paige how to find her own way in this world. How to go after all she wanted.

Paige had done that. Fought hard to achieve her goals.

Now love had found her. Several times, as a matter of fact. She'd just been too stubborn, too angry with the world, to grab hold.

Not this time. This time she was going to wrap her arms, legs, her whole f.u.c.king body, around it and never let go.

A golf cart appeared almost as soon as the driver parked near the helipad. The same blue helicopter that had always made Paige growl in jealousy was dead ahead, blades whipping around with a chugging, whoos.h.i.+ng sound that sort of sucked at the air.

It didn't look so ugly this time. Or so intimidating.

Instead, it looked rather welcoming. Ready to take Paige on her newest life adventure.

Paige and her boxes were transported to the cart and then driven to the edge of the pad. From there, they ducked and ran for the tin can.

She was disappointed to see the s.p.a.ce inside empty save for another package on the seat. Where was Mayson? Was Paige expected to fly all the way to Jamaica by herself?

Once inside, she was given instructions from the pilot and then they lifted off the ground. She stared down over Galveston, her town, the place she'd been her entire life save for one vacation where her s.e.xual life was changed.

She felt high. Free. Excited.

With a smile, Paige ripped into the box. Blue jeans, shorts, even sundresses, filled the inside. Again, all in a.s.sorted styles and colors. She'd never felt like such cheap royalty.

Tears welled. This was really happening. To Paige. To the girl who had lived her whole life with barely a penny. Who had lived most of her life hating rich people for no legitimate reason. She'd been so callous for too many years, and one person, one good person, was changing her mind faster by the second.

Mayson might truly be the most giving person she'd ever met. And she was getting closer to her. She was going to kiss her. Was going to wrap herself around her like warm sunbeams. Then she was going to beg Mayson to take her again. And again. Until she begged for peace.

Paige found another note. I can't wait to taste you, Fedora.

Heat jabbed between Paige's thighs. She squeezed her legs tightly together and willed this f.u.c.king tin can to get her to her next pit stop. She couldn't get in Mayson's arms fast enough.

Finally, the helicopter set down on a runway. Once again, a cart appeared and rushed to get her and her gifts, then sped her to the main building where a uniformed guard escorted her through a door into a large hall thronged with lines of people and scary-looking equipment.

”This way, miss,” he said, steering her to one side where there was an empty lane. ”May I have your pa.s.sport?”

As if in a dream, Paige placed her new possessions onto the conveyor belt. It rumbled into life, and everything disappeared into a void behind a rubber curtain.

”Miss?” The guard beckoned her forward through a large arch.

Miraculously, her gifts awaited on the other side. The security guard signaled her to collect the presents, then he handed back her pa.s.sport and led her back through the unmarked door to rejoin the cart. Once she was back on board, it started down the tarmac to where a private jet was waiting.

She could hear the whine of engines as they drew near.

Would Mayson be there? Was Paige wis.h.i.+ng for something Mayson couldn't give her right now? She was no doubt in Jamaica, helping people, being a d.a.m.n hero.

A hero she was. She was Paige's hero.

f.u.c.k. Could this cart going any faster?

The stairs rolled down as they neared. Paige held her breath, prayed, begged, for the sight of Mayson.

With a jolt, the cart stopped. The stairs landed on the concrete.

And there she was in the doorway.

Glory G.o.d. Mayson.

Paige bit back a moan as she was escorted from the golf cart, unable to tear her gaze from Mayson, afraid she'd disappear if Paige even so much as blinked.

Love poured through her as she was led to the bottom of the steps.

She was in love with Mayson Montgomery.

And from the look of that dimpled smile, Mayson felt the same. G.o.d, it was written all over her face.

Somehow, Paige managed not to race up every step. And finally, she reached the landing.

Mayson had never felt anything like this.

Happy. She was so happy. Happy in love.

She was never going to let this go. Never going to let Paige go.

Paige crested the stairs and Mayson palmed her cheeks, then pulled her into a kiss. She didn't care who was watching. Didn't care about anything other than slicking her tongue inside Paige's mouth.

Arms draped around her neck and Paige kissed her harder, pressing into her.

Mayson could feel her want, her desire, as she pulled back to stare down over Paige. ”What took you so long...Fedora?”

Paige smiled up at her. ”All great things come with time. Isn't that what they say, Vinden?”

Mayson pulled her inside the jet with a grunt.

The pilot stepped out of the c.o.c.kpit while the stairs rolled up and the doors closed. He tipped his hat to Paige before settling his sights on Mayson. ”We're ready for takeoff.”

”Thank you, Peter. We're going to catch a nap during the ride. I'll let you know if we need anything.” Mayson glanced over at Paige.

She took Paige's hand while the pilot retreated to the c.o.c.kpit and led her to the back of the airplane. It was a tiny room with a tiny bed, but it had served her purpose over the years. Sometimes, it had been the only place to grab a few hours of sleep while she flew off to yet another destination. Yet another country.