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Me: Blake and Monroe are going to be best friends.
Lincoln: I’m Monroe’s best friend.
Me: Calm down, golden boy. I could hear that growl from here.
Lincoln: middle finger emoji
I set my phone down. I loved that guy. I also finally understood the change in him after he’d met Monroe. I was absolutely feral for Blake. It was nice to have a partner in crime to help me through the red haze that seemed to have descended onto my vision. Although, come to think of it, he didn’t do a really good job of dissuading my craziness and holding me back.
Shaking my head, I went back to studying Cas Peters’ stats, game planning for how I was going to show him up in Dallas.
* * *
Blake
As I stepped onto the luxurious plane, my eyes widened in surprise as I took in the lavish interior. Ari had convinced Lincoln to let me fly to Dallas on his private jet. I’d been perfectly fine with a regular airline, but Ari had started muttering something about “crowd control” and “book boyfriend material” and somehow I’d ended up here.
Plush leather seats beckoned with promises of comfort, and rich mahogany accents exuded an air of opulence. A matronly older woman who could easily be cast as the perfectNanny McPheegreeted me at the door, showing me to my seat. Her friendly smile and kind eyes made me feel instantly welcomed, despite the weirdness of flying by myself on a private jet.
I settled into my seat, getting ready for takeoff.
As I stared around though, I noticed something peculiar. Everyone working the flight looked like they were someone’s grandmother. Everyone…even the two pilots. A petite woman with a crown of silver hair, a cheerful demeanor…and a cat sweater, approached my seat. Her name tag read "Edna."
"Good morning, dearie," she said with a warm smile as she handed me a basket of freshly baked cookies. "I hope you're all comfy and ready for your flight."
I took the treat, bemused. "Thank you, Edna. These look delicious."
Edna beamed at me, her eyes twinkling. "Oh, sweetheart, I've been baking these for years. No one can resist a good homemade cookie."
I couldn't argue with that, and I bit into the warm, gooey treat. It was as if I had just taken a bite of nostalgia and love, the flavors melting in my mouth.
As the plane taxied down the runway, Edna continued to chat with me, asking about my plans in Dallas and sharing snippets of her own life…which included ten grandchildren.
Soon, another flight attendant, Mabel, joined us with a tray of hot tea. She also had silver hair, spectacles, and a grandmotherly air about her. Her voice was soothing as she offered me my choice of brew.
"Darlin', we've got a variety here—green, chamomile, and good ol' Earl Grey," Mabel said kindly.
I opted for chamomile, and Mabel served me with the care of a doting grandmother, ensuring my cup was just the right temperature and sweetness.
As we sipped our tea, the female pilot's voice came over the intercom, announcing our flight details. Her tone was much warmer than you’d find on a commercial flight…but really, what were the odds of seeing a crew like this? Non-existent, right?
I pulled out my phone to text Ari, who had to fly with the team.
Me: So you don’t have to answer this…but does Lincoln have some kind of fetish…for older women?
Ari immediately responded like he’d been waiting for me to text him.
Ari: I’m dead. I will never let Lincoln live this down.
Me: So he does!!!! He likes grandmas? I mean, I won’t say anything…but does Monroe know?
Ari: I’m seriously dying...
Me: Ariiiiii
Ari: No, Mr. Golden Boy does not have a fetish for grandmas. He has a fetish for not letting anyone of interest speak to, look at, or touch Monroe. So rather than waste money on buying out all of first class for her every time she flies so no one can talk to her…he bought a plane and hired a bunch of grandmas to fly it so he didn’t have to worry anymore.
I stared at the message…completely dumbfounded.
