My Reason to Live

Chapter 2

It's seven thirty in the evening when we land in London.

I'm in England.

I can't believe I'm actually here.

I pull my carry-on out from underneath the seat in front of me and hang it on my shoulder while I wait for Jade to get her bag and jacket out of the overhead compartment.

Standing in the walkway, she lets me out first.

I can feel her hand at my back as we exit the plane with other passengers.

When we step off the plane onto the jetway, a guy in a high-vis jacket is waiting there.

He approaches Jade. "Miss Thirlwall, if you would come this way, please, I'll take you to passport control."

"You have someone to take you through passport control?" I ask Jade.

"They open a separate one for me." She actually looks a little embarrassed telling me this.

"Well, us mere mortals have to line up." I smile. "So, I'll see you on the other side."

I wonder if I will see her on the other side?

She's made no mention of me going back to her place since she said it at the start of the flight.

"No, you won't, because you're coming with me." She takes ahold of my hand and starts to lead me along, following high-vis guy.

We enter passport control and walk straight over to a passport booth.

"Siobhan will take care of you, Miss Thirlwall," high-vis guy tells her, stopping by it.

I can see the other passengers, who are starting to filter through, staring at us from across the room. If I were them, I'd be hating on us right now.

"Can I have your passport, please?" Siobhan says with a bright smile, her eyes focused on Jade.

"Go ahead." Jade gestures to me.

Moving forward, I hand Siobhan my passport.

"First time in London?" Siobhan asks me.

"It is." I smile.

"Well, enjoy your stay," she says, handing me my passport back.

Jade hands hers over to her, and then I feel her chest pressing against my back.

"Edwards," she says, looking over my shoulder at my passport.

"That's my name." I put my passport away in my bag.

"Welcome home, Miss Thirlwall." Siobhan hands Jade her passport, giving her another dazzling smile.

"My luggage?" she asks her.

"Already collected and with your driver."

"Thank you."

She takes my hand again and starts leading me away from passport control and in the opposite direction of baggage claim.

I tug her to a stop. "You might have your luggage, big boss woman, but I need to go get mine."

"Already collected and in my car. I told them to get yours as well."

"And how did you know which luggage was mine?"

Her brows draw together. "Because I own the airline. Your seat number is in the system—my system—which is connected to your luggage at check-in. I tell my staff to get your luggage, and they do it."

I put my free hand on my hip, my head tilting to the side, eyes assessing. "Does everyone do what you say?"

The look she gives me...I feel it all the way down to my toes, only pausing along the way to pay extra special attention to my crotch.