Takeoff (Open Skies #5) - Becca Jameson Page 0,38

agreed. What we’ve been doing was always precarious. It was fun. I appreciate every moment we spent together. I’ll never forget it. But it’s not real. What’s real is the shit hand I was dealt. What’s real is that this will follow me everywhere. I can’t stop it, and I refuse to let these people win, so I’ll change my name and make a new life for myself.”

“And that’s not letting them win?” His voice rose. He was angry for her. Not at her. But he couldn’t control his reaction.

“It’s the best I can do. Hide.”

He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was stare at her. There was a tightness in his throat. Emotions. Who was he to argue her point? Fuck. “Don’t… Just… Jesus, give me Friday night, will you?” He was grasping at straws. He had to. He couldn’t let her go. He needed to think. Figure something out. Whatever it was.

She held his gaze for long seconds before nodding. Thank God.

He lurched forward and pulled her into his arms before she could protest. He knew, or he hoped, if he could get his hands on her, she would soften. Relax. Calm down. Stop pushing him away.

It worked. After a few moments, she returned the affection, wrapping her arms around him and sinking into his chest.

He threaded his fingers in her hair and hugged her tighter, kissing the top of her head. He was in love with her. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with a woman he couldn’t have. He’d never even tell her. Why add insult to injury?

After a long time, he eased his grip and led her to the kitchen. He seated her at the table, poured her a new soda, and slid several slices of pizza onto a plate to stick in the microwave.

In silence, he set the plate in front of her and made himself one too. He wasn’t hungry, and neither was she, but they had to eat. It felt like someone had died. In a way, it was true.

Chapter 14

Raeann was emotionally exhausted by Friday afternoon. After working another overnight Wednesday and Thursday, she’d slept late that morning before beginning the work of taping up boxes and packing her belongings. She made a pretty good dent in packing the items that were mostly knickknacks and things she didn’t need regularly.

It wasn’t that she had a plan yet, but there was no sense putting off the inevitable. At least she wouldn’t be frantically trying to stuff her belongings into boxes at the last second. She’d spoken to her boss, Marjorie, both Wednesday and this morning, and she was working on seeing about a transfer to perhaps Denver or another hub.

Explaining her situation to Marjorie had troubled Raeann, but Marjorie had taken it well and hadn’t judged Raeann for her decision. She’d even given her the name of a lawyer who might be able to expedite a name change.

Heather had also taken the news as well as could be expected. She was sad and tried to talk Raeann out of reacting so urgently, but she also understood. Raeann hadn’t told any of the other women yet. For the first time in her life, she finally had a strong posse of women behind her, and now she had to leave. It sucked.

At five o’clock, Raeann jumped in the shower. Deacon would be there to pick her up at six. She wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea to go out with him tonight, but she couldn’t bring herself to cancel on him.

She vowed this would be the last time. Every moment she spent with him would make it that much harder to leave him. She’d make this one count though. No talk of the future. Just a fun night together, hopefully ending up in his bed, making memories that would have to last a lifetime.

After packing the same small bag as last time, she was downstairs ready to go when he pulled up. She hurried out the door and jogged to his SUV before he could come inside. For one thing, she didn’t want him to see her boxes. For another, she hoped the fucking witch hunters were not around to see her leave with him. If she caused him to get harassed, she would never forgive herself.

“Hey, beautiful.” He leaned over and kissed her after she shut the door. “Are we in a hurry?”

She shrugged as she put her seatbelt on.

“Please tell me you’re not