A Reckless Note (Brilliance Trilogy #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,73
Kace?”
He folds me close and lowers his voice for my ears only. “My money isn’t going away, baby. If you have your own, you won’t feel as uncomfortable with mine. It’s the freedom to do anything you want to do. Anything we want to do.”
I’m stunned by his generosity. “You are like no other man I’ve ever known.”
He cups my face. “And you, Aria, are like no other woman I’ve ever known.”
I don’t know what is happening between me and this man, but I know I can’t walk away. And I know I can’t go much longer without telling him who I am. Who I really am.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The plane is luxurious with tables, couches, and leather recliners. As the only guests on board, Kace and I are free to choose our seats and we settle into a couple of the recliners near the rear of the plane.
“It’s later than I’d hoped,” he says, eyeing the silver-rimmed face of his watch, the thick leather band so very rock star-ish, but then, everything about this man has become a rock star to me. “We’re going to be lucky if we get to the hotel by eleven,” he adds, “but we have sandwiches in the fridge, chocolate, and,” he twists open a mini bottle of Bailey’s and pours it over ice for me, “something to calm your nerves.”
“I darn sure won’t turn it down, either,” I say. “Did flying ever bother you?”
“I was all over the place so young it was like riding in a car, but here’s how I know you can beat this.”
“I’m glad one of us knows. I’m listening eagerly.”
“Control freaks fear what they can’t control, but they also insist on finding a way to control what feels uncontrollable.”
I snort. “I’d have to become the pilot to make that happen and then I’d worry about the engine.”
“You have to find a way to conquer your own mind, not the plane.”
The engine roars to life and I down the drink. “More, please.”
He laughs, and God, the man has such a deep, sexy, masculine laugh. And nice lips. I really like his lips. He unscrews another mini bottle and empties it into my glass. “Talk to me and keep your mind off of the takeoff.”
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll give this a try. When is the show?”
“Seven tomorrow night. And unless you’re in a rush to get home, we can spend some time in Austin on Sunday and fly back late.”
“I’ve never been to Texas. I’d like that.”
His lips curve, his eyes warm. “Then it’s a plan. You and me and Austin.”
“Yes,” I say. “You and me and Austin.”
And oh so easily, Kace August has become exactly that: my plan. But my plan for what? Too much, too soon, I think. Not enough, I amend. I don’t think I can get enough of this man. The plane begins to burn a path down the runway and I set my glass in a cup holder. Kace reaches over and settles his hand on my belly. “Easy, baby. We’ll be up and steady in no time.”
I grab his arm and squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth. We lift off and my gaze lands on his arm and all the colorful red, blue, and green of the musical notes there. My eyes meet Kace’s. “When did you get them?”
“The minute I turned eighteen.”
“The minute no one could stop you.”
“Exactly,” he confirms.
The plane sways left and right. “I could assume they mean your music is a part of you, and you it, but you don’t seem that simple of a man.”
He arches a brow. “Is that right?”
“It is. So, what do they really mean to you?”
“My father was a real estate investor who owned part of an NBA team. He didn’t want his son playing a piece of shit violin when he could be playing sports.”
I twist around to face him, the flight forgotten. “An actual NBA team?”
“Yes. An actual NBA team.”
“My God. How much money do you have, Kace?”
“More than any one man should have, and that’s just how my father liked it. To him, money was power. And he wasn’t wrong. It is. But it’s power that should be wielded with a thoughtful hand, not a whip. He liked the whip. I prefer the thoughtful hand.” His lips thin and he moves on. “As for the tattoos, if I wasn’t going to play sports, he wanted me in a suit in the boardroom. He hated my music and he hated tattoos. The tattoos were