Moonlighter (The Company, #1)(11)

Manny does his safety checks and closes the cockpit door before disappearing into the little kitchen up front. I hear the engines change tone, and we eventually push back toward the taxiway.

“Listen. About that night in April,” Alex says suddenly. “I was having a horrible moment. I was rude to several people that night, which is not in my nature. I was exhausted and disappointed with myself.”

“You already apologized to me,” I remind her. “It’s no big deal.”

“By the time you and I spoke, I was just out of gas. And I thought you were just some guy looking around the party at the end of the night for…” She clears her throat. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” I say.

Except now I’m the asshole. Because she wasn’t wrong. Alex looked fucking great at that party. I’d wanted to talk to her, sure. But I wouldn’t have said no to unzipping that dress, either. Sue me.

“The thing is?” she adds. “Sitting down in a quiet corner somewhere and remembering that summer on the Vineyard was probably exactly what I needed that night. So I really blew it.”

“Well, it’s a long flight,” I point out. “Got nothing but time now.”

She glances over at me again. “I apologize for that, too. I don’t normally kidnap people to Hawaii.”

I shrug. “My brother loves to withhold details. He is the worst kind of tyrant. He knew that if he asked me to work this week for him that I would say no.”

“So, he laid the damsel in distress thing on pretty heavily didn’t he?”

“Yeah, I guess. Not that I got the whole story.” I turn in my seat and give her an appraising look. And I like what I see. Full lips that I shouldn’t be admiring. Long, kissable neck…

“There’s a reason my ex needs to stay clear of me,” she says. “I am not ready for him to know that I’m three months pregnant.”

Wait, what?

I do a terrible job of covering my shock. “You’re—sorry?”

Her smile turns rueful. “That was my original reaction, too.”

“Oh. Uh…” I swallow hard, and realize I’m staring at her. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she laughs. “When I saw you in April, I was freaking out about this turn of events, and trying to host a black-tie party. I absolutely want children, but it wasn’t a goal of mine to have them with someone who hit me.”

“Okay…” I swallow hard as all the details continue to fall into place. “So you need to keep him in the dark about this development?”

“For now,” she agrees. “He only wanted capital from me, anyway. And he’s going to get plenty of it when he signs the agreement to forgo custody.”

“But first you have to get through this business trip? Without him suspecting?”

She nods. “I just hit the three-month mark. It was too soon to have that conversation. And now I have a crucial product launch to get through before the baby arrives in December. I can’t skip this conference. And I can’t let that man get close to me.”

“Wow.” Now I understand why Alex needs someone at her side this week. It’s almost enough to make me feel less grumpy.

Almost. Not quite.

And now I have a new problem. I’m traveling with a pregnant lady? Good lord. I know nothing of pregnant women. In fact, I’ve gone to great lengths to avoid being near them. What the fuck do you even say? “Do you, uh, feel okay?”

“Most of the time. The random barfing has finally stopped.”

“Well, hallelujah.” This whole conversation makes me want to triple check the expiration date on my current box of condoms.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she says with a shrug. “I feel pretty great most days. And as soon as this trip is over, I can start to get excited. I spent the first three months kicking myself for being so stupid. And the doctor told me not to count my blessings before the twelve-week mark. So it hasn’t really sunk in yet. But I want this child.”

“Then, congratulations, Alex. Your fake boyfriend is happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “I’ll try not to barf when I smell our food cooking.”

“Good plan.”

What have I got myself into?





4





Alex





I try to settle in for the flight, but it’s not easy to let down my guard around Mr. Hot-but-Grumpy. As the jet climbs toward a cruising altitude, I keep sneaking looks across the aisle, trying to imagine six nights and seven days with this man I barely know.

Come to think of it, he was kind of broody at thirteen, too. Not that I let him get away with it. I had no playmates on the Vineyard, so I adopted him as my friend for the summer.

I’ll admit he was a good sport, though. I don’t remember asking him if he wanted to ride horses, fish, or play tennis. I just sort of shoved different kinds of sports equipment into his hands and demanded that he accompany me. And he did.

Now I’ve inadvertently stolen another week of his life? He should have run while he had the chance.

I pull out my phone and wake it up. “Bingley,” I prompt.

“Yes, my queen?” the phone replies.