Hightower Affairs 2: Bedding the Secret Heiress (14 page)

Whatever the current catastrophe might be, Gage wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with it. In the three and a half weeks since Lauren had left, he’d been running around the clock. He worked and slept, woke and showered on an airplane, then reported to the client’s office only to begin the entire process again on the flight to the next destination. He couldn’t go back to his empty house without picturing Lauren on the rug in front of his fireplace or in his bed.

Trent stood by silently as Gage descended the stairs and thanked today’s crew for a good flight. When Gage returned his attention to Trent, his friend held a slip of paper in his extended hand. Curious, Gage took it.

His bleary eyes scanned a certified check for two hundred thousand dollars made out to Trent Hightower, then he zeroed in on the signature of the payer. Lauren Lynch.

A burst of adrenaline kicked up his heart rate. A cold knot formed in Gage’s gut and a heavy weight landed on his shoulders. “What’s this?”

Trent’s exhaled breath clouded the frigid air between them. “Lauren sent the check with a note saying our mother would never cash it, but she trusted me to handle getting the funds back where they belonged. And she promised to make payments of a thousand a month on
the remainder of the money our mother gave her father over the past seven years. It’s a substantial sum.”

Thoughts slammed around Gage’s head. His tired brain couldn’t begin to sort them out or even find a starting point to making reparation.

“You okay?” Trent asked when Gage said nothing.

He’d been wrong about Lauren. “I was afraid to trust her or the power of what she made me feel. I called her a liar and ordered her out of my house, believing she’d screwed me over the same way Angela had by lying and setting me up to bleed me dry. Instead, I’m the one who wronged her. How in the hell can I apologize for that?”

“Wait a minute. You and Lauren? You never said anything.”

“It was none of your business.” He raked a hand over his gritty eyes while guilt burned in his stomach like acid. “I treated her badly.”

Trent grunted. “You’re not the only one. I thought she was a money-sucking leech. I perceived her as a threat, and I did everything I could to run her off. Bottom-of-the-barrel jobs. Obnoxious clients. Our worst planes. Hell, any other employee would have sued me for harassment.

“Mom’s a hysterical mess because Lauren’s refusing to take her calls. She’s threatened to fly down to Daytona, but Lauren’s uncle warned her she wouldn’t be welcome and that he’d have her escorted off the property.”

Gage knew Lauren had to be hurting to take such drastic measures.

“I love her. Lauren. Not your mother.” The words burst out before he could stop them.

For the first time in Gage’s memory, Trent looked flabbergasted. “Shit. You should have said something.”

“I have to find a way to fix this. I can fix this. Fixing things is what I do. And I’m good at it.” Who in the hell
was he trying to convince? He’d be lucky if Lauren didn’t throw him headfirst into a spinning propeller.

He deserved it.

Trent clapped a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “My jet is the fastest one we own. It’s yours whenever you want it.”

“How about now?”

Trent startled and glanced at his watch. “It’ll take me a couple of hours to find a pilot.”

“What about Phil?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the man who’d just flown him back from Seattle.

“He’s maxed out on his hours in the air for the week.”

“You fly me.”

Trent shrank back. “I haven’t taken the controls in twelve years. I’m not risking both our necks.”

“C’mon Trent, Lauren says that plane practically flies itself.”

“Flying’s not like driving a car, Gage. You can’t just climb back into the cockpit. All the computerized components are different. Lauren just lost her father to a plane crash. I’m not costing her you, too. Besides, my plane’s too damned pretty to break.”

The last was clearly a forced attempt at humor. Gage swallowed his objections. “Find me a pilot. Get me to Daytona.”

“You’ve got it. Now go home and clean up. You look like a mangy dog. She won’t let you in the house if you show up like that.”

L
auren’s senses went on alert when an unexpected aircraft turned from Daytona International’s taxi runway onto the ramp in front of Falcon’s hangars.

Her stomach did a loop-de-loop and her pulse stuttered when she identified the make and model as a Sino Swearingen SJ30–2. Her half brother’s plane.

No. Couldn’t be.

Her gaze shot to the tail number, hoping she was wrong. Her mood nosedived at the familiar sequence she’d relayed into the radio when she’d flown the jet. Her anger stirred.

Trent Hightower had invaded Falcon territory.

What did
he
want? She knew he’d received the check four days ago because she’d sent it by registered mail and he’d signed for it.

The jet came to a stop. She didn’t want to talk to him. On second thought, she wouldn’t mind if he’d
flown to Daytona to apologize and grovel. Especially grovel. The jerk.

Or maybe it was her mother. She didn’t want to talk to her, either. They had nothing left to say.

“Sweet ride,” her student said. “One of Falcon’s?”

She forced her brain back into instructor mode. “No. Check the call sign. All of our N-Numbers end in
FA
for Falcon Air. That one’s
HA
, registered to Hightower Aviation. Let’s finish your postflight inspection. Where are you on your checklist?”

Her student returned to his task, but he was as distracted by the flashy jet as Lauren. Her ears picked up every sound from behind her, but she kept her eyes focused on her beloved Cirrus. She heard the trespassing aircraft’s parking break engage and involuntarily cataloged each step of proper shutdown procedure thereafter.

When the jet’s door opened her spine went rigid, but she didn’t turn around. If Trent wanted to talk to her, he’d have to cool his jets—the way he’d made her wait outside his office so many times.

When she couldn’t stall any longer she signed off on her student’s logbook. “That’s it for today. You did well. Study for your solo flight next week, and don’t forget to wear a shirt I can cut off you. I don’t want your mom screaming at me for ruining your best dress shirt.”

The postsolo shirt-cutting ceremony was the highlight of her students’ lessons. Hers, too. Most of the shirttails hanging on the hangar walls of Falcon’s office had come from her students.

“Cool. Can’t wait.” The seventeen-year-old almost skipped away, leaving Lauren with a memory of having once been that carefree back in the day when she didn’t know about debts or her other family—one of which had decided to curse her with a visit.

Taking a bracing breath she pivoted to face her unwelcome relative. Gage stood beside the open cabin door. Gage. Not Trent. Her muscles seized. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

Dark sunglasses shielded his eyes, but that thick, glossy dark hair, perfectly shaped body and his purposeful stride were unmistakable. He wore his leather motorcycle jacket unzipped over a black T-shirt, jeans and his black biker boots. Her pulse got as wild as a Mardi Gras parade.

Why was he here? Dressed like that. And where was his obnoxious sidekick? She glanced past Gage to the plane but only saw one of HAMC’s pilots circling the aircraft doing his postflight. No sneering half brother waited in the plane’s open door.

Her gaze ricocheted back to Gage only thirty feet away and closing, his heels hitting the concrete with a brisk pace. Lauren’s heart hammered. Her mouth dried and her hands moistened. With colossal effort, she rallied her anger. His lack of trust had cut deeply. She’d given him her heart, and he’d given her the boot.

Hugging the clipboard to her chest, she wished she could come up with a snarky insult. But her brain refused to cough up any witty words, so she remained mute.

Gage stopped a yard away. “Hello, Lauren.”

His deep voice tugged at something buried inside her. She nodded. “Gage.”

“We need to talk.”

Right. So he could insult her some more? Tear another chunk out of her heart and crush it beneath his shoes? Nope. “I’m working.”

“Tell me a convenient time. I’ll come back.”

Wow. That didn’t sound like him. He was usually pushier. “Never sounds pretty good.”

He took a quick breath and ripped off his sunglasses. The pain and regret in his dark eyes made her gasp. “I’m prepared to camp on your ramp until you and I have talked.”

“Go home, Gage. You’re wasting your time.” She had to get away from him. The pollen was burning her eyes again. She turned toward the office.

“I have something for you.”

She stopped. He held out an envelope. She kept her arms folded over the clipboard.

“It’s from Trent.”

Probably her final paycheck. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her butt-headed half brother had refused to pay her, since she’d left HAMC without working out her two weeks’ notice. Since landing in Daytona she’d tried to work up a little guilt over that, but she’d failed. Trent had wanted her gone, and in her opinion, she’d done him a favor by granting his wish.

But hey, if he wanted to throw money at her to ease his conscience for being a prick, she’d take it and donate it to the local Bikers Against Drunk Driving fund. She plucked the envelope from Gage’s fingers, tore it open and pulled out the check inside.

A cashier’s check for two hundred thousand dollars shook in her hand. Her check. Uncashed. She shoved the paper back where it had come from and thrust the envelope back at Gage. “This isn’t mine.”

He made no move to take it. “Trent says it is. Either you use the money to pay off your new loan, or I’m to shred the check in front of you. Either way, Trent says to tell you he’s not cashing it.”

“He can’t do that.”

A smile twitched one corner of that delectable mouth. “Trent can do pretty much whatever he wants.
Most of your Hightower siblings can. Get used to it. You’re one of them now.”

“I am not. So you’re acting as his delivery boy now?”

Gage’s lips compressed. “I offered to return your money, since I was coming down anyway.”

She scanned his clothing. “Bike week’s in March.”

“I’m not here for bike week. I’m here for you.”

Her lungs did that lockdown thing they usually did when he touched her—only this time he stood a yard away. “Too bad. Because I’m not available to you.”

She did an about-face and hustled toward the hangar. His footsteps followed, deliberate and firm. “Lauren, I made a mistake.”

“That’s not news,” she called over her shoulder without slowing.

“I’m here to help you save Falcon Air. And if I can’t come up with a revitalization strategy, then I’ll become a silent investor.”

Not knowing what to make of his declaration or whether to trust it, she slowly turned. “Thanks, but I no longer need your help. Dad’s life insurance paid up. Falcon is back in the black. Besides, you should know by now that I’m no one’s charity case. I pay my way.”

“Then maybe you’ll help me.”

What was he trying to pull? “With what?”

“I’m looking for property in the area, and I don’t know my way around.”

“A vacation home?”

“Two properties. The first is commercial. I’m relocating Faulkner Consulting to Daytona. The second is residential. I put my house on the market.”

Her mouth dried. Whatever game he was playing, she didn’t have time for it. She resumed her path to the office. He kept pace beside her. She glanced at
him. “What’s the matter? Knoxville’s cold weather getting to you?”

A smile eased over his lips and the gold flecks in his eyes glittered with warmth. “No. I fell for a Harley-riding pilot chick. She lives here.”

Lauren tripped over the threshold and would have fallen flat on her face if Gage hadn’t caught her arm and hauled her back onto her feet. He swung her around.

“I’ve been miserable since she left me. Can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Can’t concentrate. Hell, I can’t even go home. I’ve been living on an airplane. My only option if I don’t want to go crazy is to chase her until she lets me catch her.”

Panic made her heart pound, and a surreal floating sensation took over. Crashing into reality was going to hurt. Bad. “If you think that’s funny, then you have a sick sense of humor, Faulkner.”

“There’s nothing funny about me being blind and not seeing what was right in front of my face. There’s nothing funny about hurting the woman I’d fallen in love with because I was too scared to face the truth.”

Dizziness swamped her. She clung to the door frame. “You fight dirty.”

His smile widened and his eyes glinted with mischief. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Give me a chance to regain your trust, Lauren. Let me prove I love you.”

She identified the weightless sensation as hope and tried without success to snuff it. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’m not sure, but if I keep trying new strategies for the next fifty years or so, I’m sure I’ll hit on a winning combination sooner or later.”

He cupped her cheek, stealing her breath and making her eyes sting. “I love you, Lauren. I love that you’re
genuine and honest. You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. I love that you appreciate the simple things instead of going for the bling. I love that you have enough pride to insist on earning what you have, and that you’re stubborn enough to stick to your guns when you know you’re right.

“But most of all, I love that you’re generous enough to share your gifts with me.”

Her cheeks burned. She swiped at them and found tears.
Pilots don’t cry, damn it.

Gage caught her soggy hand in his. “We haven’t known each other long. We’ll take it as slow as you want. I want to learn everything there is to know about you. But I already know the important part. That I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Promise me you’ll give me that chance.”

Emotion welled up in Lauren’s throat. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. But more than anything she wanted to smack Gage for putting her through missing him.

She yanked her hand free and slugged him in the upper arm, not hard, but enough to show her frustration. “If you’d figured this out sooner, I wouldn’t have had to live through almost a month of hell.”

Gage’s laugh boomed out, echoing off the metal hangar walls. “I hope our kids are as spunky as you.”

“Kids? Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Then the smile she couldn’t contain burst free. “How many?”

“A hangar full.”

He yanked her into his arms and kissed her hard once and then his mouth opened over hers. Lauren opened to him, opened her mouth, opened her heart, opened her life. He tasted so good, so familiar, so welcome, and she couldn’t get enough of him.

Her clipboard clattered onto the concrete floor. She wound her arms around Gage’s neck, tangled her fingers in his hair and poured her love into the kiss.

When dizziness threatened to make her faint in his arms, she lifted her head and cupped his cheeks. “I love you, too. And nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you.”