The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(90)

The drive to Bluewater’s private airfield wasn’t far, but we made good use of the time, making out in the back like a couple of teenagers. The driver opened the door, but we were too busy pawing at each other to notice.

He cleared his throat. “Would you like me to circle around the runway for a while?”

Jude climbed off me and swiped the corner of his mouth. “That’s okay.”

I straightened my dress and he helped me up. Then we both climbed out of the car onto the airstrip where my private plane was waiting.

“Lovely wife,” Jude said, gesturing for me to walk up the steps ahead of him.

I picked up the bottom of my dress and made my way up the stairs and onto the plane. Our luggage was already packed and stowed on board. A post-wedding snack, complete with more champagne, awaited us.

The only thing missing was the pilot.

“Jude, we have a little problem.”

“No we don’t.” He closed and latched the outer door, then started cuffing his sleeves.

“What do you mean? We don’t have a pilot.”

One corner of his mouth hooked in a grin.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

Without a word—but with a mischievous look in his hazel eyes—he went up to the empty cockpit and sat in the captain’s seat. He motioned for me to sit next to him.

I sat down and followed his lead, buckling the seat belt. Then watched in awe as he slipped on the headset and started the pre-flight check.

“You know how to fly this?” I asked, putting the second headset on.

“Yep.”

“You just happened to know how to fly a plane.”

He didn’t answer, just winked.

“Where did you learn how to fly?”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. And considering I just married you, I’d like to keep you around.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re something else, Jude Ellis.”

“Are you ready for our next adventure?” he asked.

“Ready.”

I was more than ready. I was excited to start this new phase of our life together. To be his, body and soul, for the rest of my life.

The day I met Jude, I hadn’t thought I needed him. It turned out I couldn’t have been more wrong. I needed him more than anything. My partner. My friend. My husband. My love.





Would you like a peek into Cameron and Jude’s happily ever after? See where they are in ten years in a special bonus epilogue.



GIMME MY BONUS EPILOGUE



Want more Bluewater Billionaires?



Emily has a billion-dollar deal that’s falling apart and a naked stranger in her bathtub who says he can make all her problems disappear in Lucy Score’s The Price of Scandal.



Luna loses the public’s adoration after a corporate scandal and there’s only one man—a big, bearded dog-rescuing biker—who can help her save it all in Kathryn Nolan’s Wild Open Hearts.



Nightlife-loving Daisy is forced into the mom life when she inherits a baby… and the baby’s other broody, serious, sexy guardian in Pippa Grant’s Crazy for Loving You.





Curious about that scene with Cameron’s new hire, Everly Dalton, and her slightly rumpled billionaire boss, Shepherd Calloway? You can read Shepherd and Everly’s story in Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy.



Keep reading for a preview of Faking Ms. Right!





Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 1





Everly





Call me weird, but I didn’t hate Monday mornings.

Every Monday was a fresh start. A chance to shake off the previous week—or in my case, the disastrous events of the weekend—and move forward.

I didn’t want to think about how many Mondays over the last several months I’d felt the need to put a bad first date behind me. But now wasn’t the time to ponder my terrible dating luck—even though it was pretty horrific. I’d dish to my girlfriends about it tonight. Over martinis, of course.

For now, I had work to do. And here, in this office, I wasn’t Everly Dalton, serial dating disaster. I was Everly Dalton, executive assistant. And I was damn good at my job.

“Good morning, Everly.”

I smiled at Nina, the front receptionist. “Good morning. I love your hair today.”

Her smile brightened. “Thank you.”

I walked down the hallway, smiling and greeting my coworkers. They all said hi and smiled in return. Even Leslie—who hated mornings more than anyone I knew—cracked a little grin over her coffee.

“Morning, sunshine,” Steve said. He was dressed in his usual plaid button-down shirt and brown cardigan. He wasn’t that much older than me—maybe five or six years—but his clothes made him look like a grandpa from the fifties. I was pretty sure that after work he changed into another cardigan that had a zipper, and probably brown slippers. But he was super nice.

“Morning, Steve,” I said. He liked to think he’d nicknamed me sunshine, but he was probably the tenth person to do so over the course of my life. Maybe it was because I wore so much yellow—my favorite color—or because I smiled a lot. His desk was near mine, just across the aisle, so we chatted pretty often. “How’s Millie?”