Page 46 of Gilt

But the thought that I might not get to spend the day with him makes me want to pout, but I reign in that impulse. “Look, if you have something better to do ...”

“No,” he says quickly. “But it is, unfortunately, something I can’t get out of.”

“Fine,” I say before he can overthink our plans. “I’m in.”

He doesn’t wait for me to ask any more questions before he throws the car in reverse and speeds out of my neighborhood. “So where are we going?”

“To the airport.”

“Are you supposed to leave the state?” I ask before I consider an even more dangerous problem, “And I need to be back by curfew.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” he says, tacking on, “this time.” He takes the exit for the Las Vegas private airfield. We’re cleared through security, and Jameson zooms toward this small outcrop of buildings that oversee the private runways high rollers use when they come to visit.

“My mom sends her jet here to pick me up for my summer trip.” I tell him.

“What summer trip?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“I stay with her in Palm Springs over summer vacation.” I don’t miss how his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as he processes this information. “I only go for a week.”

The rigid tension in his shoulders doesn’t dissipate. “Good to know. My mom’s finally getting in. I don’t trust a car service not to spill the details on her arrival. The last thing she needs to deal with is the press hounding her, so I need to pick her up and take her to our house on Mt. Charleston.”

“I’m meeting your mom?”

“Is that a problem?”

It shouldn’t be, but given the fragility of our connection, I hadn’t expected to meet parents yet. Plus, we’ve known each other for a whole week. It’s not like I’m buying bridal magazines, but I keep this to myself. If he wants me to meet his mom, it shouldn’t be a big deal. “We just haven’t had a real date yet.”

“By my count, we’ve had several, Duchess.” His mood lightens as he teases me, “But you say the word, and I’ll get us tickets to Blue Man Group.”

I groan and bat him on the arm. “Don’t you dare.”

“Britney Spears?” he suggests.

“Getting colder.”

“I hear Elton John might be coming to town.” This time he’s serious. He glances at me for approval, and I tap my nose and nod enthusiastically. “I’ll look into tickets, but if we’re not officially dating, then maybe I shouldn’t be knocking on your bedroom window.”

“That was a matter of survival. Neither of us was going to be able to fall asleep.” At least, that’s how I sold that poor decision to myself. I bite my lip, remembering the dreamless peace I’d found thanks to his presence and the note waiting on my pillow in the morning.

“Sorry I had to sneak out like that,” he says as if he’s reading my mind. “But I didn’t want your dad to catch me.”

“Probably smart,” I agree. The shop has more than a few shotguns in its inventory.

“So, are we officially dating or not?”

“Can I get back to you on that one?” I hedge. He doesn’t say a word, but I see the muscle in his jaw twitch. A shadow descends over us as moody Jameson returns.

When the car is parked, he circles around to my side. As soon as I’m out, he grabs my hand tightly and leads me toward the edge of a runway. He doesn’t speak as a small speck of a plane comes into view, barreling faster as it descends toward the strip in front of us. My hand is starting to hurt from his grip, but I don’t dare remove it. As soon as the jet is on the ground, he yanks me forward.

Attendants rush over and open the door hovering nearby as a woman in a black wrap dress takes the steps. Her face is obscured by the brim of a large black hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses. When she reaches the bottom, she takes off the glasses. Even from a few feet away, it’s easy to see the red rimming her eyes. She’s been crying, but when her gaze lands on Jameson, she lights up. Her arms stretch out, and he drags us toward her. “Jamie!”

“Mom,” he greets her in a thick voice.

“Oh, darling.” She crushes him into a hug, but he doesn’t release my hand. I clear my throat awkwardly after a few minutes, not wanting to feel like a third wheel.

“Maybe I should give you two a moment,” I begin, but Jameson cuts me off.

“That’s not necessary.”