Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Not just for helping me into the SUV.” My heart starts racing. I take a breath and exhale. “For tonight, for this weekend, the past two nights, the mornings, and for being you.”
“Me? Hmm.” His gaze dashes away as if the words need mulling over. When he looks at me again, at our hands joined in the middle of us, he says, “You’ve been treated less than by the men in your life. I won’t do that to you. Not ever, Liv.”
I almost fill the space with a reply, but one’s not needed. I hold my tongue and take in his promise. I’m not sure if I’ll always have butterflies with him, but it feels good to be excited about someone in my life. I welcome the change.
Just as I ease in for the long ride ahead, the SUV turns off the main highway. “Where are we going?”
His gaze distances over my shoulder, and he points out the window. “There.”
When I turn, we’re traveling along a row of helicopters. Jerking my eyes back to him, I ask, “We’re taking a helicopter?”
“Figured that would be more fun and a lot faster than sitting in a car for four hours each way.”
I stare in disbelief at the sight before me. The black and gold helicopters are large, a vision of luxury even on the outside. “How long will it take us to get there?”
“Around an hour.”
Still holding hands, I rest my head back and smile. “You didn’t need a helicopter to charm me, Westcott. You were doing just fine all on your own.”
“If this can charm a Bancroft, I’m doing something right.”
If only life had been how he sees it in his rose-colored glasses. I had food and clothes; the necessities of survival were covered. But I would trade my fancy uniforms, the car I got when I turned sixteen, and even my pride for my dad’s love.
Now I’m glad I didn’t. No child should ever have to beg to be cared for.
The SUV stops, and Noah comes around to help me land on my feet. I grab my clutch in one hand. Noah holds my other tightly in his and leads me to the helicopter. We meet the small crew and prepare to board.
I hike my skirt just enough to bend my knees, sparing my knight in all black the burden of carrying me again.
Beige leather captain’s seats that recline, a charcuterie platter on a small table between us, and champagne on ice. There’s only enough room for the large chairs and table, so the attendant pops the champagne, fills our glasses, and then shows us where the other drinks are stowed away. The stairs are tucked in when she steps off, and the pilot asks if we’re ready.
Noah glances at me. “I’m ready. How about you?”
The question sounds loaded with possibilities. I answer honestly, “I’m ready if you are.”
He kisses my hand. “I’ve been ready for more than two years, baby.”
25
Liv
“Don’t be so surprised,” I say, adjusting my headphones over my ears. “Not everyone’s been on a helicopter before.”
“Your last name is on a prominent building in the New York skyline. Guess I figured some perks came along with that.”
Angling my hips toward him, I add, “You know that my father and I aren’t close. I’m the disappointment he didn’t ask for yada yada. He didn’t take me on business trips or vacations. My mom would travel with me during breaks from school. It was just the two of us unless we were needed for a photo-op.” I roll my eyes. “A family always looks better for promotional purposes or to land a big deal.” I put up with so much, and where did it get me? Well, technically, in a helicopter with Noah. I guess it all hasn’t been so bad.
I continue by asking, “Want to hear the cherry on top of my childhood?”
“I’m starting to wonder if I do or not. It makes me fucking rage how he’s treated you.”
“Buckle up for this one.” Should I be sharing every dirty family secret? With Noah, I won’t sacrifice myself to protect my father anymore. “He took credit for every one of my accomplishments.”
“What?” I appreciate that he takes offense on my behalf. “What the hell do you mean?”
“When I graduated salutatorian, he reminded me that second place is the first loser. When his buddies told him congratulations at my graduation party, he said he guided me every step of the way. When I got into NYU, he told me NYU was no Yale, which is his alma mater. He was so disappointed that he could barely look at me. Later, I overheard him telling his cigar buddies that he chose NYU to expose me to new experiences. They clapped him on the back for it.” I drop my head back on the seat and roll my neck to face him again. “I could go on, but it’s truly exhausting.”