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Contents Copyright Title Page Dedication Epigraph Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Epilogue Dear Readers Acknowledgements Chasing Fire

Copyright © 2019 by Avery Kingston All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is dedicated to those that have served. Those that have come home battered, but not broken.

What wounded veteran’s don’t need is sympathy. They need to be treated like the men they are: equals, heroes and people who still have tremendous value for society.

-Chris Kyle

I hate flying on airplanes.

For a man who used to love the thrill of jumping out of them, this would seem perplexing to most.

As I sat waiting for the call to board the plane, beads of sweat prickled on my forehead. My shirt stuck to my back. I pushed the rims of my wheelchair a few inches forward then back, forward then back, like a pace, but not quite as effective at burning off the nervous energy.

I loathe feeling that way. It was never in my blood. I was the kid who’d spent countless hours in the ER with broken bones from whatever daredevil stunt I could do next. It didn't surprise my mom one bit when I told her I was going Airborne in the military. “Well, at least you’ll be jumping with a parachute instead of a pillowcase from the roof.” Mom’s words echoed in my head. Yeah, that wasn’t my brightest moment as a kid. Summer with my leg in a cast seriously sucked when all my other friends were playing in the pool and going to the water park.

I strummed my fingertips on my wheels to the beat of Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” as it looped in my brain. I wasn’t even this nervous on my first jump. Unlike all the other guys who looked like they were about to shit themselves, I was ready. I’d been preparing my whole life for that moment. I’d dreamed of it. By the time I’d reached my fifth jump at 1,250 feet from that C-130, I was addicted to the adrenaline rush.

I loved jumping out of planes. Hell, I still loved diving out of them.

With my disability settlement from the military, I’d opened up a small skydiving shop where I did dual jumps as an instructor. Nothing could

compare to the thrill of the free fall from a tiny plane. Commercial planes?

That was another story.

My reason for being so nervous was simple. Flying commercial was a big pain in the ass. The list of things I fucking hated about traveling was a mile long with the damned aisle chair topping the list. Typically, I’d fly the low budget airlines with no assigned seating or first class. That way I could just roll myself on the aircraft into the first seat and transfer over. No dice on this trip since I was heading overseas.

A destination wedding in Ireland for my battle buddy I’d served with.

You never say no to your battle buddy. He was my “Pooh” and I was his “Piglet.” In Officer Candidate School they taught us to “Find your Pooh.”

Yeah, you should’ve heard the grown-ass men all snicker when a twohundred-pound beast of a man stood at the front of our classroom and said those words.

As the Lieutenant explained what that meant, it made sense. Find the one who will have your back, no matter what. Just to be sure they will always be there. He even flashed a cute little photo of Pooh and Piglet holding hands with the following exchange: Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh!” he whispered.

“Yes, Piglet?”

“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

God dammit if every soldier’s eyes didn’t water in that room at that moment. Gibson was my Pooh. I’d do anything for that fucker. Him and I both being New Yorker’s had hit it off right away. It was a match made in heaven. He also was the reason I was still alive and breathing today.

So yeah, I was heading to Ireland to be one of Gibson’s groomsmen.

Don’t even get me started on the list of things that would go wrong once I arrived. All I could envision were small inaccessible bathrooms, steep curbs and doorways that were entirely too small for me to fit through (that were most likely up a skinny flight of stairs). Europe is not known for its accessibility.

I watched as the flight attendant reached for the speaker. “We will now start our pre-boarding process for those with young children and in need of assistance.”

That was my cue.

I rolled up to the front of the line and handed her my boarding pass.

After she flagged me through one flight attendant followed me like I was a toddler as I wheeled down the long hallway. There another flight attendant stood waiting my arrival. A couple stood behind me with two ankle biters, one of which was whimpering. The toddler clung to his mother’s legs, staring at me with wide eyes. I had a full audience for the circus.

Fucking fantastic.

Pressing my palms into my cushion, I scooted my bottom forward then pulled each leg off my footplate. Another push and swing, and my ass was in the tiny aisle chair.

“Mommy what’s wrong with his legs?” the older kid asked.

“Hush,” she whisper-shouted to her son.

I couldn’t blame the boy for asking. My legs were dead weight had a mind of their own and had just kinda flopped wide open. If I was a kid, I’d be gawking and asking questions too. As I pulled them back together and righted myself, the two flight attendants fiddled with the straps across my chest. I’m a low-level para and I’m lucky to have decent control of my core, so the straps were a bit overkill, but regardless, I didn’t want to fall out of the chair. The whole escapade was emasculating enough, I didn’t need to add a tumble to the sideshow.

It took them several minutes to figure out the straps. It’s like that every damn time. The longer I sat the more backed up the line became, and the more I began to sweat. It’s not fucking rocket science. The sweating was part because it took so long and partially because I stressed as I watched my chair disappear into the distance. A nervous dread filled my chest. I hated being separated from my chair and I prayed they’d handle it with the TLC it deserved. The last thing I needed was to be stranded in a foreign country without my main method of transportation. I shuddered at the thought of a rental one.

The family behind me was exasperated at this point. Well, sorry folks, you aren’t the only ones. As I tucked my arms over my chest, I resisted the urge to say, “Hello Clarice,” in my best Hannibal Lector impression as they backed me onto the plane. I’ve done that once or twice in an effort to ease the looming tension and it usually earned a few chuckles. But as I read my audience I realized the family didn’t seem like they were in much of a laughing mood, considering their infant was in full on screams.

I prayed that they were not sitting behind me. It’s not that I hated kids. I loved kids. In fact, someday I’d love to have a few of my own. I’d give my niece rides all the time. “Uncle X, ride,” she’d say, and I was a sucker for those little dimples of hers. I always loved how she’d giggle when sitting on my lap as I’d roll down a ramp faster than my sister approved of. But, it’s one thing to hear the joyful giggles of a child versus the ear-piercing screaming that I would be privy to on that flight. I’d hoped to finish my novel, but quiet reading was probably not in the cards. Thankfully I had my earphones and a stockpile of movies on my iPad. I transferred into my assigned seat on the plane—which of course was an aisle one. I wished it was in the front. Sadly, it wasn’t. I preferred the front row for the leg room. Not for me but for the poor souls that would have to climb over me because being a gentleman is not an option. I couldn’t stand and let others pass. I’d still open the doors for the ladies, when I could. From the buttery grin on their faces they seemed to enjoy that. Chivalry is not dead, but it would be on that flight.

I was drunk.

It was three pm, and I was wandering through the airport trying to appear sober, searching for my gate.

I’m terrified of flying. So, in a genius maneuver I thought it would help me relax to knock back a few drinks at the airport lounge before hitting the flight, just to loosen myself up. I’m not a huge drinker. In fact, I’d always been called a lightweight. I vastly underestimated how potent those few drinks would be on my empty stomach.

Somehow, I wound up on the opposite side of the terminal. I didn’t realize this until they started the boarding process and the gate attendant told me I had the wrong gate.

“This flight is to Iceland, not Ireland.” The attendant at the gate pursed her lips, wondering how I screwed that one up. Probably because I was seeing double at that point. “Did you not hear them paging you?”

As if I could make out the jumbled intercom over the airport noise in my inebriated state. I laughed a little too loud as I checked my watch. No worries. I had an hour until my flight left—plenty of time to spare. “Oh, silly me.” I hiccupped. Lord, did that just happen? I was like a cartoon character. At least I didn’t vomit on her.

“Your flight departs in ten minutes.”

No no no no no. That couldn’t be right. I checked my watch again. “It’s only five, my flight doesn’t leave until six ten.”

“Yesterday was daylight savings switch. It’s six PM.” I yanked out my phone to confirm, and yup, she was right. I’d love to blame that one on the drinks, but stupid me just didn’t set my watch. I stood

there blinking. I could not miss the flight. My brother Sam would be devastated if I missed his wedding. Mom, on the other hand, would kill me.

I could just hear my mother now. “Elaine Maura Gibson. What did I tell you about flying out the day before the wedding? Why couldn’t you have come days early, like the rest of the family?”

I’d rather walk barefoot in Legoland after a tornado than spend extra days in a foreign country with my family. Don’t get me wrong. My family is everything to me. But my mother has always been so intrusive into every aspect of my life. “Lainey, when are you going to get married and give me grand-babies? Lainey, you should really not wear yellow, it’s not your best color. Lainey, when are you going to get a real job?”

My “not real job” was the reason I took a later flight than the rest of my family. I worked as a freelance graphic artist from home. Maybe if I worked in one of the skyscrapers in Manhattan and my designs graced the pages of magazines rather than book covers for indie authors, Mom would have respected my work. I was good at what I did. I just wished my mother would acknowledge it.

I loved the flexibility of my job and the people I got to work with. Sure, the flexibility of that allowed me to pretty much take my work anywhere with me, but there was a graphic design symposium in town that I’d been dying to attend. I thought I could make them both fit in my schedule.

Apparently not.

I still couldn’t understand why my brother had to get married in Ireland.

Destination weddings are such a pain in the ass for your guests. You may as well say on the invitation, “We’re inviting you out of kindness, but we really don’t want anyone to come to this shindig but family.”

I considered putting this on the invitation when I’d shown him and his bride-to-be the proofs I’d mocked up, but I decided best not. I had a tendency to be too passive aggressive at times. Instead, I casually mentioned to my brother at Christmas that maybe they should consider switching it to a local venue. His fiancée, Ella, had chimed in, “Those who care will come.”

What Ella should’ve said was, “Those who have the money will come.”

Or what I knew the true reason was, a jumpstart on the honeymoon to save dough. Well, congrats, you’ll have a wedding full of your richest guests.

Enjoy your special day, big brother.

Since I was family—and a bridesmaid—my attendance was not optional.

“How far is it? Can I make it?” I asked the airline attendant.

The woman chuckled. “How fast can you run?” She glanced down at my Chucks.

“I was sub five minutes on my mile in high school.”

She frowned, obviously not impressed with my Cross-Country record.

“I can call the other terminal and let them know you’re on the way,” she offered as she rattled off the gate number, picked up her phone and motioned me on my way.

I sprinted across the terminal in less than five minutes, the booze sloshing in my belly every step of the way. Somehow by the grace of God I made it right before they were about to shut the door, and I prayed I wouldn’t vomit. The man at the gate scanned my boarding pass, and I went on through. Thankfully my early purchased ticket gave me assigned seating.

I wanted an aisle seat to be as far away from the window as possible, but those were gone. I settled for a middle as close to the front as possible. I’d seen LOST and Alive. I knew what happened in the event of a crash to the poor souls in the back of the plane. I did not plan on being the one they had to eat. The front of the aircraft felt like my best chance of survival.

I climbed over the burly, tatted up beast with the Hulk arms that refused to stand to let me pass. What a jerk. I rolled my eyes as I sat then buckled my seatbelt, praying my neighbors could not smell the alcohol seeping out of my pores due to the massive sweat I’d worked up in my sprint across the terminal.

“Whew, made it.” I laughed a little too loud at myself and looked to my neighbor to my right, the man by the window. He just gave me a side eye and put in some earbuds. Rude.

“I went to the wrong gate.” I looked to Mister Muscles sitting next to me. “Thank God I was a sprinter in high school. I made it across the airport in five minutes,” I boasted. “I think that’s a record for me.”

“Congratulations.” He went back to his book. He too was unimpressed with my record time.

I knew it was an unspoken rule that you were not supposed to get chatty with people on a plane, but the liquor coursing through my veins with my added nerves would not allow my flap to stay shut. “Of course, I haven’t run in ages. You know, life gets busy. You don’t look like much of a

runner.” I assumed he lifted weights. Lots of them from the way that black tee hugged his ginormous biceps.

He grunted and let out a slight snort, and something resembling a smirk passed over his lips as he flipped the page.

“I really should run more. I’d look much better naked if I did.” Shit.

That was more of an internal thought. Jesus, did I just say that out loud?

He turned, glancing in my direction. His eyes raked me up and down and my cheeks heated as he inspected my body. That is when I noticed he was really good looking. Like, ridiculously so. I wasn’t paying much attention to his looks as I was straddling his lap, trying to not shove my tits in his face. His brown hair was short on the sides and a bit shaggy and disheveled on top, giving him a sexy, just out of bed, I-don’t-give-a-fuck appearance. The contrast of his dark hair with his piercing blue eyes caused my breath to hitch in my throat, even if he was giving me the stink eye.

I suddenly became very concerned with my breath. I may not be able to fix the fifteen pounds I’d added since high school, but I could at least try to not smell like a wino. I dug into my purse and popped a piece of gum into my mouth as the plane taxied down the runway and the flight attendants went through the safety briefing.

I strummed my fingers on my knees, leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I repeated this process for several minutes. The wings made that horrible creaking noise, and the engines kicked up to a roar. I hated this part.

The plane exploding scene from Final Destination played like a loop in my brain as we took off, and I cursed myself for watching so many horror movies as a teen.

I don’t know how long I sat there in my own personal hell, sweating, with my eyes firmly closed, but I snapped them open as my neighbor to the right, Mr. Earbuds, cleared his throat. “Would you please remove your hand from my thigh?” he asked in the most formal British accent I’d ever heard.

Oh no. I looked down and to my horror I was clenching tight to both my neighbors’ thighs. Earbuds seemed pissed, and rightfully so. Superhero arms to my left didn’t even look up from his book. Must be some damn book.

I leaned back and closed my eyes and tried not to think about plunging into the ocean that would be my watery grave. I should have gone for the

swim team instead of Cross-Country in high school. At least then I’d have a fighting chance.

Oh my God, when will that drink cart arrive?

After some time, the plane leveled out and the flight attendants came by offering drinks.

You better believe that I would take them up. I ordered a double vodka cranberry. More drinks were probably a bad idea, but my hope was it would induce sleep and I could just rack out the rest of the flight.

“You sure that’s wise?” my buff neighbor asked me as the flight attendant handed me my drink.

“Ok, Judgey McJudgerton,” I snapped. “That’s none of your business” “You’re right. It’s your liver, not mine.” He shrugged, licked his finger and flipped his page. God, what a dick. Then again, I couldn’t really blame him. So far I hadn’t been the most pleasant passenger to sit next to.

The plane hit a few bumps and the fasten seatbelt sign came on. No worries there. Mine was on so tight it was cutting off my circulation, and I probably wouldn’t be able to bear children when all was said and done.

Suddenly a big dip hit, and the plane jostled.

“Sorry folks we are experiencing a little turbulence. Gonna be a bumpy ride for the next thirty minutes. Hang tight,” the pilots voice came over the intercom.

Fan-freaking-tastic. I gulped more of my drink.

Another rustle and dip of the plane. Once again my hand dug into my neighbor’s thigh. Why oh why did I keep doing this?

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to feel you up or anything,” I said, heat flowing again to my cheeks.

My neighbor looked down at my hand as I yanked it away, for now the second time. A smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t notice.”

Good to know that I’m that forgettable. I was certain at that point my face had to be as red as my hair.

I downed the rest of my drink and desperately wanted another. Although my bladder was telling me it wasn’t a good idea and my neighbor was now under the impression I was an alcoholic.

“Turbulence makes me jittery,” I explained.

“Mmmmhmm,” he hummed, still looking at his book.

“I’m not an alcoholic,” I blurted out. “In fact, I rarely drink.”

He sighed and placed his book on his lap, turning to me. “Maybe you should watch a movie, get your mind off the turbulence.” He nodded to the screen in front of me.

That could work. Maybe a good rom-com would distract me. As my neighbor went back to his book, I flipped through the options and settled for Miss Congeniality.

“Miss Congeniality?” My neighbor glanced up from his book and snorted.

“This is a great movie!” I protested. “You know Sandra Bullock did most of her own stunts?” I wasn’t even sure how I knew this tidbit of information, but I’d heard it somewhere. Yeah, I couldn’t remember to set my watch, or even find the right terminal, yet my drunken brain somehow pulled up this useless information.

“You don’t say?” He seemed unimpressed with my vast knowledge of the film. I couldn’t blame him. I sounded like a huge dork and the man didn’t seem like a dude that spent much time watching chick-flicks.

“She didn’t even use a double in the wrestling scene with Benjamin Bratt.” Why was I still talking? Shut up, Lainey shut up.

This wasn’t making me sound any cooler, but I kept digging myself into the hole. My mouth had a mind of its own.

“She even learned how to shoot for the film.”

“I can respect a woman that knows how to handle a weapon.” He nodded and went back to his book, and I back to my film.

The film did distract me, but after a good thirty minutes the drinks hit full force and my bladder was screaming at me.

“I need to pee,” I whispered to my neighbor, giving him the opportunity to be a gentleman and let me pass.

“Then pee…” he motioned to the aisle, still not looking up from his book.

“Wanna help me out here?” I unbuckled my seatbelt, waiting for him to stand.

“To pee?” he chuckled, still reading. “I think you’re old enough to handle that without adult supervision.”

“No, I mean help me in joining the mile-high club in the bathroom,” I said in a low, sarcastic whisper, rolling my eyes for extra measure—just in case he didn’t get my obvious sarcasm. “I mean, you’re hot, I’ve been told

I’m pretty cute…” I was teasing, of course, but I figured that would at least get his attention to move for me.

He snorted. “I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” He still didn’t look up from his book.

I craned my neck to see what could be so compelling. The Martian. Ok, a pretty decent read, I could hand him that, but not so engrossing that he couldn’t let me pass.

I grunted and climbed over him. The plane hit another bump and this time I fell into him, my boobs landing right in his face.

Yeah, that was about par for the course on this trip so far.

The girl next to me was killing me.

I loved that messy red bun in a pile on top of her head, and the way a few strands fell down into her big, green eyes. That with her upturned nose covered in freckles made her look effortlessly adorable. I’d always been a sucker for redheads.

She’d been talking my ear off the entire flight; laughing and giving me a running side commentary of the theatrical masterpiece she deemed Miss Congeniality to be. On a good day, I would have considered this flirting, but she was obviously drunk, and her motor mouth was being fueled by the booze coursing through her system.

Second, even if she was enamored with me, she very well may not have been if she knew the truth. Right then I looked like every other dude on the plane. I felt much more comfortable flirting when I was in my chair. It left nothing to guess. Now if I flirted, I’d have to somehow work my injury into the conversation. The mile-high club sounds freaking fantastic. Just let me pop this little blue pill and wait thirty minutes for my boner to kick in then you can piggy-back me to the bathroom.

Third, it was quite possible she wasn’t even from the same city as me.

But I had to admit, she was piquing my interest hardcore. Normally drunk chicks annoyed the shit out of me, but with this girl it just made her fucking adorable. I wasn’t even sure how that was possible. I think it was because her honesty was charming, and I loved her sarcasm. I was a sucker for redheads but a bigger sucker for wit.

She climbed back over me after her return from the restroom. I was thoroughly disappointed that the turbulence had come to a short lull—

depriving me of another mini-lap dance.

“Sorry about the boobs,” she mumbled.

“No worries.” I tried to wipe the smug grin off my face, but I couldn’t help myself from grinning like a fool. Almost getting to motorboat her tits was the best part of my day. I leaned in and lowered my voice to a whisper.

“I figured it was just part of the lure to get me into the mile-high club with you.” I chuckled.

“That was a joke!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

I laughed. I knew full well she was teasing to get my attention. I like a girl with a sense of humor. She may have been a hot mess at the moment, but she didn’t seem like the type girl who would ask a random man into the restroom. She didn’t wear a shit-ton of makeup to impress like most chicks.

She was effortlessly adorable—like the girl next door cute. Her awkwardness was endearing.

“In my defense…” she started right back into her incessant chatter, “If you would have stood up and let me pass like a gentleman instead of being a jerk, you wouldn’t have gotten to second base with me.”

My neck grew hot. I rarely got pissed about my disability unless someone insulted my masculinity because of it. My mother raised me right, and the military pounded integrity into me. I knew how to treat women.

I shoved my book into the slot in front of me. This was my moment to tell her I was a goddamn paraplegic who couldn’t stand to let her up, even though I wanted to. Part of me couldn’t wait to see the look of utter humiliation on her face as I put her in her place. But when my eyes locked onto hers, I couldn’t muster the words. Those green eyes seemed familiar and friendly. Like I knew her from somewhere. Suddenly I couldn’t stomach the thought of embarrassing her.

Of course, this was a six-hour plus flight and at the rate she was knocking back those drinks I suspected she would need to piss frequently.

Yeah, I definitely needed to tell her.

“Listen,” I began, “I would have but…”

Right then her face turned sour and her eyes widened. She grabbed the barf bag from the seat pocket and spewed into it.

Fantastic. Luckily the man by the window had fallen asleep, so he wasn’t privy to the display of vomit. I didn’t know whether to hold her hair back, rub her shoulder and comfort her or look away to give her some privacy.

“I’m so sorry…” She looked up with mascara tears streaming down her face. “I’m the worst.”

“It’s ok.” I pinched the bag from her hand and passed it to the flight attendant who grimaced at the sight as they came by collecting trash. “I’ve got a strong stomach.” I patted her hand.

She bent over, grabbed a piece of gum from her purse and popped it in her mouth. As she chewed she looked to me and gave me a wry smile. “And really kind eyes.” She pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse and coated her palms in it, rubbing them together.

“I was thinking the same about you.” I grinned at her. “Xavier.” I extended my hand.

“Lainey.” She dropped the small bottle back into her purse, placed her dainty hand in mine and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Lainey.” God, her name was just as cute as she was.

“I’m sorry I called you a jerk and a dick.” She shoved her purse back under the seat.

I jutted my chin back and snorted. She’d spewed a lot from her mouth since she’d plopped her ass in that seat, but I didn’t recall that one. “When did you call me a dick?”

Her eyes widened. “Shit, I’m sorry. I think that one was an internal thought.” She dropped her face into her hands and groaned. “Ughhhh. This is so embarrassing. Hands down the most humiliating experience of my life, and I’ve had my fair share.” She turned to me. “I think this is worse than that time my skirt ripped open and I was walking around the grocery store with my cheeks hanging out.”

“Really?” I asked, stifling a chuckle.

She shrugged. “I had on cute underwear that day.”

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted nothing more than to hear more of her embarrassing stories revolving around her cute panties. Just then the plane jolted, and the lights flickered.

Lainey squealed and then fell into my arms, as more sobs came out of her.

Um, ok. I patted her on the back for lack of anything to say to this turn of events.

“I just really hate flying,” she sobbed into my chest.

Gee, I never would have guessed. “You don’t say?” I tried not to chuckle, but once again I couldn’t help it. Hands down, this was the strangest flight I’d ever been on. Not the worst, but definitely the oddest.

She pulled back quickly and her smile faded as she realized she’d thrown herself into a complete strangers’ arms. “Oh God, I’m sorry.” Her hands went to her mouth as that messy bun bobbed atop her head. Holy shit, she was adorable.

Out of all the things this girl had done since she got on the flight, the hug was the least awkward. She may have been a complete drunken stranger, but something about her being in my embrace wasn’t so bad. Even though she’d just thrown up, she somehow still smelled good. Like coconut.

Had to be her shampoo, and frankly, I kinda wanted another whiff.

“Every movie that I’ve ever watched about a plane wreck has been looping through my brain. I know, I know, I’m more likely to get hit by a bus than to get in a plane crash, it’s totally irrational.”

“Most fears are irrational, but airplanes, eh, totally normal to be scared of.”

“What about you?” Her brow raised.

“What about me?” I shrugged.

“What are you afraid of?” Her eyes narrowed, honing in on my biceps.

“You don’t look like a guy who has a single fear.” She waved her hand.

“Make me feel better, level the playing field here. Tell me something that you’re scared of.”

I laughed. “I never asked you what you were afraid of. You offered that info all on your own, Lainey.”

“Oh, come on, just play along.” She nudged me in the side.

What was I afraid of? Well, this first of all. Talking to a pretty girl and wondering when the rejection would come. Typically it was after they saw the chair. The unfortunate times when it was hidden under a table in a darkened bar. I could always tell when they hadn’t noticed, so I’d do the test. I’d place my hands on the wheels and roll out slightly, letting them get a glimpse, then watch how they reacted. Fifty percent of the time the girl suddenly had somewhere she needed to be. I preferred it that way. It weeded out the duds right away.

The other fifty percent of the time the cool chicks would hang for the rest of the evening, maybe even brave the dance floor with me. A handful of those would end up with follow up dates, then the rare few I’d date for longer than that. So yes, I cycled through a lot of chicks.

Mainly because there is only so much oral one could perform on a girl before she’d ask about doing the deed. Then came the questions. Can you

get hard? Yes. I could sometimes get hard. But that takes planning and some pill-popping. Once the girl and I were finally comfortable to reach that crossroad, and I’d finally get naked, she’d see how thin my lower body was in comparison to my upper body. I’d always been a man who prided himself on staying physically fit, but obviously, I skipped leg day.

Permanently. I shouldn’t let it get to me. I’d always been a fairly confident person until the pants come off.

So, yeah, I’d pretty much stick to oral for as long as I possibly could.

“Well?” she asked again.

I blinked. “Spiders. I hate spiders.” No man in his right mind would say he’s scared of sex.

She laughed. “Spiders? You could pulverize a spider with your foot in like two seconds.”

Um, not this guy. “Well, that’s why fears are irrational,” I said instead and just shrugged.

“Eh, lots of people hate spiders.” She waved her hand.

“And like I said before, lots of people hate flying.”

She bobbed her head as if I had a point. “I think the issue is that I always envision myself free falling out of a plane after it splits in two.” She shivered. “I can’t stand the feeling of falling.”

“Listen. If it makes you feel any better, falling out of a plane is the most beautiful feeling in the world. It wouldn’t be the worst way to go...”

“That does not make me feel better.” Lainey curled her cute, freckled nose. “So you’ve skydived I take it?” Her brow arched. That seemed to pique her curiosity.

I nodded. “I own a skydiving company.”

“Where?”

“In Long Island.”

“No kidding? I’m from Brooklyn! Well, I live in Brooklyn now. I grew up on Staten Island.”

“Born and raised in Queens.” I lifted my palms.

“I shoulda guessed from the accent,” she said. Yeah, mine was thick.

Surprisingly, she didn’t have that Staten Island nasally sound to her voice.

But my folks were native to New York, which contributed to mine immensely.

She grinned, seemingly as happy as I was about us living sorta near each other. Well, it was still an hour for me to get to the city, but it could be

worse. She could be from a different state. Why was I even thinking that far ahead? I didn’t know this girl.

“Anyhow.” I shook my head. “As I was saying, daily I take people up in planes just like you, terrified of flying, trying to face their worst fears head on.” I grinned. “I’ll tell you what I tell every one of them. Your body loves adrenaline and dopamine. It’s not like a roller coaster, where you get that stomach drop feeling. It’s just a wonderful sensation of flying. It’s the freest feeling in the world and there is nothing like seeing the earth from on high.

It’s peaceful.”

“A million things can go wrong. You have no idea...” Her lip curled into a grimace and a faraway glaze passed over her eyes.

Oh, I knew alright. It’s how I ended up in the goddamn chair.

We were doing a training jump at Benning. They were trying to put twohundred guys on the drop zone. This was totally standard, and I’d done it more times than I could count. The guys line up in the plane, clip onto the line and then it’s go-go-go one right after another as we rapidly deploy.

Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door, the cadence sung through my head.

There is no freefall for airborne jumps. You jump and the static line is pulled as you go out the door. There’s not much you can do to can steer an army chute. You just drop. I caught a thermal, which is a warm pocket of air. What that did was launch me the opposite direction—up up and away— rather than down to the ground. I wound up nearly a half-mile off course from the DZ, in a thicket of trees. My chute caught on a branch like a goddamn noose, swinging me like a pendulum between the trees, wreaking havoc on my poor bones.

I hung there about twenty feet from the ground, gasping for air from what I suspected was a punctured lung due to my ribs breaking. I pulled out my knife and cut myself free, praying my lung wouldn’t collapse in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. I’m still not sure if it was landing one— smashing against the trees—or landing two, the ten-foot fall to the ground that broke my back. Either way, it didn’t matter. As I lay there on the ground, gasping for air, I quickly realized the punctured lung was the least of my fucking problems.

I couldn’t feel my legs. I was fucked.

As I tried to avoid slipping into unconsciousness, I realized the irony of it all. I’d been through war zones and dodged bullets from Taliban

insurgents, and it was a goddamn fucking tree during a training jump on American soil that screwed me over.

Gibson was the one that found me nearly an hour later. Typically it would be the nearby medics looking for me, but Gibson was my Pooh after all and of course he’d somehow beat them to the punch. He took care of my chest wound, and as soon as air entered my lungs I breathed out, “Don’t move me,” I gasped. “Not even an inch.”

Gibson’s green eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. He knew exactly what I meant. Right before I slipped into the nothingness I heard him calling for the medics, then everything went black.

Two days later when I woke up in the hospital I was told I’d never walk again.

I won’t lie. It sucks, but I’m damn lucky to be alive. It’s the price you pay, the risk we take. I knew what I was signing up for. No reason to be angry over it. Life’s a bitch. Adapt and overcome. That was my new motto.

I looked over at Lainey, bobbed my head and shrugged. “It’s a risk.” My eyes warmed looking at her. Yeah, I rolled the dice and lost that gamble, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me from doing what I love. “But so is driving to work every day. So is walking across the street. There are a thousand things in this universe that can kill or injure you. I resolved myself a long time ago that I’d never let fear stop me. I think once this plane lands and you look over the lush landscape of Ireland, you’ll be glad you made the trip.” I gave her a wink. “It will be worth all the agony in the long run.”

I could tell she wasn’t convinced. It didn’t help that ten seconds later the plane shook and dropped about ten feet. She screamed, again, along with many other women in the cabin, and clutched onto my arm.

“I’m sorry…” she said letting go. “God, I should have brought a sleeping pill. I’d hoped the booze would do the trick, but obviously it’s just turned me into a drunken fool.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure a sleeping pill with the booze would be a wise idea.”

She nodded as if I had a point. “Maybe if I was bored, I’d fall asleep.”

I grinned smugly to myself that she wasn’t bored talking to me. Even though I wanted nothing more than to chat with her a little longer, she needed the rest. Boredom I could help her with. I braced my left arm on the arm rest to control my decent as I bent over, grabbing my backpack. I dug inside and pulled out a book on military strategy. “Here.”

She raised a questionable brow.

“I swear to God you’ll be so bored reading this you’ll pass out in ten minutes.” I grinned.

“Are you a soldier?”

“Former.” I nodded to the book. “They made me read this back when I was in the service. I keep it for the sole reason to get some shut eye when the need arises.”

She laughed. “Alright.”

She cracked open the book and began reading. Twenty minutes later she was out like a light, drooling on my shoulder.

I felt a dip and my eyes popped open. I realized my head was lying on Xavier’s shoulder, but he was merrily reading his book and didn’t seem to mind. He really was a nice guy. My original thoughts about him were way off. I really couldn’t blame the dude for being annoyed and kinda a jerk at first. I mean, I wouldn’t have wanted to sit next to me.

I sat up, stretched, yawned and braved myself enough to look to my right—past Mr. Earbuds—and glanced out the window to get a gist of how close we were to landing. The morning sun was starting to light up the sky showcasing lush, green countryside as far as the eye could see. It wouldn’t be long until the wheels hit the ground.

“Morning sleepyhead. Feel better?” Xavier asked.

I chuckled and rubbed my brow. My head pounded, and it felt like fur was on my tongue. “Yeah, about earlier, I’m sorry. I bet this will go down in history as like the worst flight ever for you.” I reached back down into my purse and popped another piece of gum.

He smirked. “By far not my worst. Trust me on that one.”

I took another long look outside the window. Holy cow it really was beautiful and for a moment I understood what Xavier was saying about the beauty of jumping out of a plane with nothing but the world underneath you. Not that I was planning on doing that ever, but still, it was pretty. “I kinda get what you mean.” I pointed out the window. “It really is stunning.”

Xavier grinned wide, revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth and my heart did a little flip. He had dimples. God, I was a sucker for a guy with dimples. He was good looking when I was inebriated but even sexier without the beer goggles on. My pulse rate doubled.

“See, I told you. Makes the trip all worth it, right?” He winked at me, closed his book and shoved it into his backpack.

The plane was gradually dropping altitude which made my stomach churn. A metal grinding noise echoed through the aircraft and rumbled under my feet as the landing gear lowered. It’s almost over. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and clutched my hands to the armrests.

“It’s almost over,” Xavier whispered in my ear the same words that had been running through my head. “You can hang onto me, if you’d like.”

I opened my eyes just long enough to look at him and he had his palm out. “You sure?” God, he was being awfully sweet. As much as I was ready to be safe on the ground, part of me didn’t want this flight to end.

“Positive. I mean, I practically got to second base with you when you went to the bathroom.” He shrugged as his face lit up with another goofy grin. “So we may as well hold hands.” God, that smile.

I chuckled. “I guess you have a point.” I grabbed his hand. It was really rough and full of callouses, which was oh-so masculine. I wondered if it was from pull ups or lifting weights.

As the plane descended, I debated asking him for his number. Just do it, I told myself. I mean, I lived in Brooklyn. Long Island wasn’t too far. This was like a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not every day that you humiliate your drunken self in front of a dude, vomit on him, and he still wants to hold your hand.

The wheels touched down and the roar of the wings echoed through the cabin. I was gripping so tight to Xavier, it had to be cutting off his circulation, but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably because those hands were like steel wool.

Finally, the plane stopped, and people got up and began grabbing their bags. I assumed Xavier would hop up now, but he didn’t.

“You getting out?” I asked.

“I wait until everyone else is done.” He looked down at his feet and scratched his nose.

Fine by me. I wasn’t ready to leave him just yet. We sat there in silence for several moments as the passengers grabbed their bags out of the overhead compartment.

The man on the other side of me grunted as the aircraft cleared out. “I have a connecting flight to make,” he muttered in his thick, British accent then climbed over us both, obviously irritated.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your trip. Lots of beauty to see here,” Xavier remarked. He was strumming his fingers on the armrest, as if nervous.

“I don’t know how much sightseeing I’m going to be able to do. I’m actually going to my brother’s wedding. In Ireland. Well, obviously it’s Ireland. Otherwise I wouldn’t be on this plane.” I may have been sober, but the awkwardness kept spewing out of me like a goddamn waterfall.

“Your brother’s wedding?” His brow raised, and his voice shot up an octave. Suddenly he seemed very intrigued.

“Yeah. Destination wedding. Who the hell has a destination wedding?

It’s like…”

“They don’t want anyone to go?” His blue eyes gleamed as his dimples popped with that devilish grin of his. If I’d been standing I’m certain my knees would have gone weak.

“Exactly!” I waved my hands. “I kept telling Sam—” “Wait, Sam?” His brow went up, and he suddenly looked quite confused.

“Yes, Sam, that’s my brother,” I explained and rambled on with my story. “I told him that nobody is going to come to this thing!”

His blue eyes gleamed, and a smirk tugged at his lips, like he completely understood where I was coming from. “Those that care about Sam will make the trip.”

I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes. “You sound like him.”

“He sounds like a good guy.” A warm smile crept over his face. God, he was a pretty man. Just ask for his number.

“He’s the best.” The plane was practically empty. He still hadn’t got up.

What was he waiting for? Maybe he was shy, not the type of guy that would ask a girl out. Maybe I should make the first move. I had a few hours to kill before the rehearsal dinner.

“In fact,” he snorted a dry chuckle, “I know for a fact that your brother —” “So, how about we leave here and go get a cup of coffee?” I blurted out, interrupting him. Shit, I didn’t mean to cut him off, but it was now or never before I lost my nerve. I would have normally said let’s hit a pub since we were in the drinking capital of the world, but I’d had my fill of booze.

“Listen, Lainey, you’re great. Honestly, this is the most entertaining flight I’ve had in a long time…” He grimaced. “But I gotta be honest…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

I closed my eyes and winced at the sting, my cheeks heating from his rejection. “It’s fine. I get it.” I grabbed my belongings and jumped over him, wanting nothing more than to make a quick escape. “It was nice meeting you,” I mumbled. As I bolted off the plane, I could hear him calling for me in the distance, but all I wanted was a quick escape and to forget the entire day happened.

The following afternoon I sat in the ladies’ room with Ella, my brother’s bride to be, and the other bridesmaids. I was honestly a bit shocked and flattered when Ella asked me to be in the ceremony. She and I had never been close.

Turns out that we were not close. I was a last-minute replacement for one of her friends that backed out. I found out that bit of embarrassing information as one of her other bridesmaids chatted away as I slid on the sky-blue dress.

“Did they warn you about the groomsman that you’ve been assigned to?”

I shot the other bridesmaid, (whose name had slipped from my memory) a side eye. “Warn me?” I asked. It was merely a walk down the aisle after the ceremony was over. It wasn’t like I was having to marry the guy myself or tether myself to him for the evening. I didn’t see the big deal unless he was an ass groper or carried some kind of flesh eating disease that I could contract from hooking my arm with his. Like warts, or scabies, or leprosy.

Was leprosy even a thing anymore? Doubtful.

The girl turned her head to the right and left and lowered her voice.

“Apparently, he’s special.”

“Special?” My brow went up. I never knew of my brother having a mentally challenged friend. I’m certain that Sam would have mentioned him—especially if he was a groomsman. But I vaguely recalled overhearing last night that my groomsman I was to walk with had a medical issue or something, and that’s why he didn’t make the rehearsal.

“Yeah,” she said in her thick Jersey accent as she curled her nose. “It freaked Lisa out, so she backed out. I just wanted to give you fair warning.

He’s like in a wheelchair or something.” She grimaced.

A light bulb went off in my head and I knew exactly who she was talking about. My brother had a friend who’d gotten in an accident in the service. I’d never met the man, but I’d heard Sam’s stories and knew the guy was now paralyzed.

“You mean disabled,” I said flatly. What kind of person refers to someone in a wheelchair as special? This girl in front of me wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and any special person would have had ten times the heart and tact that she did. “You mean to tell me that a girl backed out of the wedding because she didn’t want to walk next to a guy in a wheelchair?”

Her jaw hung open, her wide, blue eyes blinking, giving me my answer.

My eyes practically popped out of my head at the lunacy of that.

Thankfully Ella wasn’t like any of her so-called friends, otherwise I’d have to object when the minister asked that question during the ceremony.

“Well Lisa is five ten… and a model… it would have just looked ridiculous in the photos…” She bit her bottom lip. “You were a much better fit.”

Yeah, I’m short. Teased endlessly over it my entire life. I couldn’t give a shit about walking down the aisle with someone in a wheelchair, because unlike Ella’s friends, I wasn’t a monster. What had me fuming now though was that not only were they picking on my stature, I was merely a replacement. Add to it this chick was insulting a disabled man who’d bravely served his country and paid the price.

I really wanted to boob punch the snotty bridesmaid.

Thankfully, Ella walked over, looking stunning in her organza flowing gown, saving me from doing something I’d regret. “You ladies ready? It’s time.” She grinned and squeezed my shoulder. “Everything ok, Lainey?”

I flashed my best fake grin. “Everything is just peachy.”

The only thing worse about being a bridesmaid is being a pity bridesmaid. This entire trip was turning out to be one humiliating experience after another. I sucked down my mimosa, swallowing it all in two gulps, along with every ounce of my pride then followed the ladies out the door.

I adjusted the white rose boutonniere on my navy vest as I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. My white shirt was casually rolled at the sleeves—tattoos poking out from underneath. They opted to forgo the jackets for the groomsmen. I was thankful for that. My shoulders were large not only from all the time I spent pushing, but from the hours I put in at the gym. Add to it the length of the jackets were always an issue for me.

They’d bunch up in my chair and never lay flat. All my jackets at home were custom tailored for these reasons.

From the chest up, everything looked great. Chest down, well, it was the best I could ask for. I’d gone to a local tailor back home who took my measurements and sent them to the shop in Ireland. I was worried about the pants. Because I’d be sitting, I needed them longer, otherwise they’d rise at the ankles and it would look like I was waiting for a flood. Thankfully, my tailor got it spot on. The navy trousers touched perfectly to the brown oxfords resting on my footplate.

I wanted to look sharp. It should have been because it was Gibson’s special day and I was the only groomsman who would be seated through the entire ceremony, but truthfully it was selfish reasons. I knew I’d be seeing Lainey again. The minute she said she was going to a wedding and mentioned her brother Sam—a.k.a. Gibson—I figured out who she was.

Too bad she bolted before I could tell her about our mutual connection. It wasn’t like I could’ve run after her.

Oh, I tried though. I rolled through that airport like I was in the Indy 500. It was a stupid call to not hit up the bathroom right away to catheter my bladder, but I had to find her. I figured that if I pissed my pants I’d just

make a joke that we were finally on equal footing as far as bodily functions go. No, I knew I’d be fine. My legs would typically spasm if I’d wait too long to piss, so my chances of wetting myself were slim to none. But it didn’t matter. By the time I got to baggage claim it was too late—she was gone.

I knew I could make things right at the rehearsal dinner—except I never made it to the rehearsal dinner. When I arrived at my hotel, there was a big problem. The elevator was out of service. I’ve learned the hard way to call ahead and speak with the hotel staff to ensure that the room will be accessible for me. What I didn’t plan on was the elevator breaking.

“Can I use the service elevator?” I’d asked the clerk at the front desk the night before. Surely, they had a service elevator.

“That lift has been dodgy.” The clerk had grimaced. Somehow his smooth, Irish accent made this blow land a little softer. “We had a lightning strike a few nights ago and the electrical system is wonky. We can’t let guests use it due to liability of them getting stranded.”

“Ok.” Not their fault, I reminded myself as I’d taken calming breaths.

These two clerks working the counter were just doing their job. “What about a first-floor room?”

“We have no first-floor rooms in this hotel. But, we have a sister hotel that I can call and book you with. First night will be on us?” The second clerk—donning a manager tag—offered with a feeble grin.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” I’d then nodded and waited while they made the calls.

They were bending over backwards trying to accommodate me, which just made me feel shittier. By the time they got me booked into another hotel, gotten a cab that could fit my chair and luggage then checked in, I’d missed the entire rehearsal.

So there I was now at the wedding and I hadn’t even gotten to speak with Lainey yet.

I could be thousands of feet in the air, ready to launch myself out of a plane and somehow the thought of seeing her had my stomach in knots. It was ridiculous. We barely knew each other. I didn’t get goddamn butterflies over girls. They cared about the chair or they didn’t. And the ones that did care, I didn’t want, anyway. Girls came, then they went, and I had fun while it lasted.

So what was it about Lainey that was making me want to puke? It had to be because it was my buddy’s sister. That left me in a huge moral dilemma.

How did I not pick up earlier that Lainey was Elaine, Gibson’s sister?

Probably because it had been four years since I saw the photo of Gibson and her tacked next to his cot and she was still a gangly high school kid with braces. No wonder she’d looked familiar.

I wanted nothing more than to give her my number. It was just dumb luck that she was Gibson’s sister. Rule number one of bro etiquette is that you don’t mess around with your friend’s little sister, so the fact that I was still thinking about her was bad.

The look of humiliation on her face yesterday had gutted me. At least the wedding would allow me to offer some sort of explanation.

Gibson walked over and stood behind me, clutching my shoulders.

“You’re making me look bad dude. Can you ugly yourself up a bit?” He chuckled. “I can’t have my bride eyeing you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop it with the bullshit, Gibson.” Samuel Gibson wasn’t the best-looking guy, but he wasn’t that bad. Yeah, we constantly harassed him for his gingery looks, freckles, wild red hair and of course the military issued “birth control glasses” he had to wear back in training.

Those beer bottle lenses with the thick, square black frames hadn’t done him any favors. He had an awkward, slightly nerdy, Ed Sheeran look going on. Lucky for him that look was in right now and his girl Ella seemed smitten with him. You always hope that your buddy is getting a good one.

Ella was a tad spoiled, but other than that she seemed like a decent human.

“Ella’s got a couple of cute bridesmaids in the wedding that I hear are loose.” He chuckled. “I know how fast you still cycle through chicks.

Lucky bastard.”

“Dude, I didn’t come to your wedding to get laid.” I rolled my eyes.

Yeah, all the dudes still thought I was a goddamn player. If only they knew what it was really like for me trying to hook up. There was only one girl at this wedding that I cared about, who I reminded myself was his sister, and off limits. But God, I couldn’t ignore that spark I felt with her. I cocked my head to the side and debated just coming clean and asking him for his blessing to ask Lainey out.

I mulled that over as I rolled over to my backpack and grabbed my FreeWheel attachment, securing it to the footplate. That thing was a

godsend. Rolling over grass in a wheelchair was a pain in the ass. The front castor wheels of my chair typically bounce, turn around, or dig into the ground. This little invention with a larger wheel in the front would lift those little wheels off the ground, turning my chair into a much more maneuverable three-wheeler. The last thing I wanted to do was get stuck in front of a crowd…or Lainey.

Jesus, I could not get this girl off my brain. Screw it. I was gonna just talk to Gibson. Not like he would deck me right before the ceremony for wanting to date his sister.

“Actually,” I cleared my throat, “I met someone this week I’m kinda digging…” I began, but before I could get the words out the wedding coordinator came in and told us it was showtime.

All of us men lined up at the front near the rustic wooden arch. I was at the end of the line, which was fine by me. It made me less visible. The last thing I wanted was Lainey to notice me and get distracted from her brother’s wedding.

Of course she would eventually notice me. That was inevitable. But people tended to not look at your face when you’re in a chair. Typically, it pissed me off, but today I was thankful that she may not notice me until the end of the ceremony.

I looked over to Gibson who was standing with his spine perfectly straight, looking even paler than normal. I hoped he didn’t lock his damn knees and pass out from the nerves. Breathe motherfucker, I silently said to him in my head. I may have owed him my life, but I didn’t want to repay that debt at his wedding.

I scanned the crowd looking for Lainey and she was nowhere to be seen. I assumed she’d be front and center with the rest of his family—who looked like the Weasleys from Harry Potter sitting on the front row. So much red hair it was like a goddamned sunrise.

Celtic flute music began to play. Man, they really were Irish to the core.

I knew that Gibson was proud of his heritage. At least he didn’t wear his kilt—although I suspect that his bride-to-be had vetoed that option. I wonder if they’ll do a river dance at the reception. I stifled a laugh.

One by one, the bridesmaids filed down the line. Gibson was right, a few of them were cute. But it was the last one who made my breath hitch in my throat.

Lainey. I had no idea she was a bridesmaid. I figured she’d just be attending the wedding. I quickly did the math in my head and realized that she was number five, as was I. Yup, I was fucked.

God, she was stunning. She looked cute the other day on the plane, but she looked even more spectacular in the flowing, baby blue dress. Her long, red hair cascaded in soft curls over her creamy shoulders resting on her tits —which were as fabulous as I’d suspected after having them shoved in my face the day before.

She looked almost bashful the way that she kept her head tilted down and smiled shyly at the guests on the aisle as she passed. Much more prim and proper than the goofy, loudmouthed girl I’d met on the plane. She looked up at her brother and grinned wide, giving him a wink. God, she had a killer smile. It was a bit toothy and crooked, but it made those green eyes of hers light up. As she got to the end of the aisle, I tilted my head down and scratched my nose. Her eyes darted my direction.

Here we go.

She stopped dead in her tracks, sucked in a breath and her head snapped my direction as her eyes widened. I grinned nervously and flashed her a discreet wave. Her jaw hung open, her nose curled then she lipped, “What the hell?”

I gave a slight shrug and focused my gaze over to Gibson, whose brow was furrowed in bewilderment watching our exchange go down. I flashed him a wry smile and his lips tightened. I couldn’t tell what was going through his brain, but I assumed he was not pleased from that scowl.

Lainey grunted and moved on. She looked pissed. She squared her shoulders and lifted her jaw and shot her gaze down the aisle, ignoring me.

Just perfect.

I did my best to ignore Xavier’s burning glare during the ceremony. I didn’t dare lift my arms up because I was certain I had sweat stains on my dress.

All I wanted to do was focus on my brother’s wedding but instead my cheeks were stinging with heat from replaying every idiotic thing I said to him on the plane.

I asked if he was a runner.

I asked him to join me in the mile-high club.

I griped at him for not getting up to let me pass. More than once.

Open mouth. Insert foot.

In my defense he could have mentioned the fact that he was physically incapable of getting up. I mean, the man ranted on and on about how he loved to jump out of airplanes. How was I supposed to know that he couldn’t walk? Instead, he just let me sit there and run at the mouth, bitching and moaning at how much of a jerk he was, all the while keeping his lips sealed.

Xavier had been demoted back to dick status.

Why would he not say something? It’s not that difficult to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t move, I’m paralyzed.” That right there would have put me in my place and shut me up.

God, that would have been embarrassing. In fact, it almost would have been more humiliating than my drunken, filterless mouth. It’s quite possible he didn’t want to embarrass me more. I’d done a perfectly spectacular job of doing that all on my own. He didn’t need to rub salt in my wounds. Was it possible that he liked me enough to spare my feelings?

I then promoted Xavier back to nice-guy status. That is when the thought occurred to me that maybe he wanted to give me his number.

Maybe he feared I’d reject him because of his disability.

Well, that’s dumb. The man was sex on wheels. As much as I tried to not look at him, my mouth was practically keeping the flowers in my hand watered with all the drool dripping from my chin. He was sexy as hell in his tight-fitting tee on the plane. Now, all dressed up with that white rolled shirt and tie, the man was to die for.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said in his booming Irish accent.

I snapped out of the trance I’d been in during the entire ceremony and watched as my brother leaned in and gave his wife a kiss. I applauded with the rest of the audience. Afterward, he turned to the crowd, grabbed Ella’s hand and raised it in triumph.

The music began to play, and Sam and Ella walked down the aisle arm in arm. All I could think about was that I had to march next to Xavier. My palms were sweaty, and my heart pounded out of my chest as one by one the bridesmaids and groomsmen looped arms and strolled down the aisle following the happy couple.

I locked my gaze with Xavier and sucked in a breath. His blue eyes glimmered at me as a guilty, crooked smirk tugged at his lip. He rolled over to me and I couldn’t help but look at the way his forearm veins bulged, and muscles rippled as he pushed the wheels of his chair.

“Lainey.” His grin grew wider, popping those amazing dimples of his.

He lifted his outstretched palm, and I extended my shaky hand, placing it in his. Now I understood the reason for all those callouses. I raised a questionable brow, unsure of what he was planning on doing with it. I’m certain he’d need both hands to get down the aisle, unless he wanted to turn in circles. “Nice to see you again.” He clasped my fingers and gave my knuckles a kiss.

Every hair on my arm stood to attention and chills ran up my body at his chivalrous gesture. He let go of my hand then nodded down the aisle. “Let’s roll?” he asked, grinning like a madman at his bad pun. A thin smile tugged at my lips as I nodded, swallowed the lump in my throat and trailed next to him down the aisle.

“How come you didn’t tell me?” I leaned over and hissed in Xavier’s ear once we sat at the head table, watching my brother and his bride take their first dance. This was the first semi-private opportunity I’d had with him to broach the subject after the bridal party took photographs.

I’d wanted to say something so badly to him, but too many people were listening, and it had been a mad dash of instructions being shouted out as the photographer hurried to get every shot.

“Tell you what?” Xavier reached for his glass and took a swig, his eyes creasing from that damn smirk of his from behind the mug.

“Oh, come on now, you know,” I groaned.

“Do you mean our mutual connection?” He gave a quick nod to the happy couple on the dance floor. “Or the fact I can’t walk? Which one of those is a higher priority on the lies of omission list?”

Heat rose to my cheeks the way he said it with such an edge to his voice. I wasn’t even thinking about the connection with my brother, and he damn well called me on it. In the last hour, the thought had not even occurred to me that the reason he rejected me was not due to his disability, but due to some kind of bro-code of honor. My mind flashed to the time when one of my brother’s friends kissed me in high school. It did not end well. The kid showed up at school Monday morning with a black eye and a broken nose. Sam may have not looked menacing, but he had a mean right hook.

“As I suspected.” He snorted.

Apparently, I took too long to answer the question while I was taking my trip down memory lane and he mistook my silence as something else.

“Now that’s not fair…” I mumbled, although I could see where his bitterness was coming from. I wondered how many women rejected him due to the wheelchair. Any woman would be crazy to not want to date him.

The man not only was gorgeous, but had a witty, dry sense of humor and was such a sweetheart to me on the plane. But then the conversation with the bitchy bridesmaid echoed in my brain. There were a million superficial women out there who couldn’t look past that.

My face must have shown the grief and internal war I was waging because he finally spoke. “Listen, Lainey. I tried to tell you…” he sucked in

a breath, “several times.” His piercing blue gaze bore into my skull. “But your mouth was spewing words or vomit.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic.

He continued, “I was more concerned when I found out who you were related to.” He nodded again to the dance floor.

“When did you realize that?” I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms.

“I had no clue until the end of our conversation that he was your brother, when you mentioned the wedding and his name. Right as I was about to tell you this bit of info, along with the fact I couldn’t walk, you mistook my confession as rejection and bolted. It’s not like I could have chased after you.” He pounded the rims of his chair for emphasis.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” I recalled him yelling at me from the distance, but I kept running. It broke my heart thinking about him sitting there, unable to come after me and make things right. I reached over and put my hand on his thigh that I now noticed was much thinner than his upper body. I probably would have realized this on the plane, had I not been drunk. “I wish I would have come back,” I said in a meager whisper. “I was pretty smitten with you.” I flashed him a shy grin and locked eyes with him. “In fact, I still am.” I began to trace my finger along the seam of his pants, out of nervousness and wanting an excuse to touch him.

He glanced down at my hand on his leg. “If you’re trying to turn me on you need to aim a little higher.” That glimmer came back in his eyes and that smirk once again tugged at his lips. “Anything below the waist is pretty much lost on me.”

Shit, could he not… Oh God. “Sorry,” I muttered and yanked back my scalding hand.

He laughed and shrugged, showing no shame. “Don’t worry, I still know how to please a woman.” His elbow rested on the table as his finger delicately and subtly traced his lips. “And boy do I enjoy doing so.” His sapphire gaze bore into mine.

Warmth tingled from the top of my head to the soles of my feet as I imagined those lips in places that good Catholic girls shouldn’t think about.

I crossed my legs and squeezed them tight. Well, at least that question was answered quickly.

He snaked his arm around my shoulder and leaned into my ear. “I find that it’s better just to be direct. Weeds out the duds.” He pulled back and winked.

My cheeks were blazing at this point—probably as red as my hair. I swallowed the lump in my throat as they opened the dance floor for the guests to join the bride and groom. “Well, now that I know that you enjoy, that…” I downed the rest of my champagne in a few gulps. “And apparently you still enjoy launching yourself out of airplanes.” I grimaced at that thought, now knowing exactly how he was injured. Dude had some balls of steel. “What else do you enjoy?” I traced the rim of my empty flute and glanced to the dance floor, hoping he’d ask me to dance. I wanted nothing more than to hop onto his lap and go for a ride. Although the ride I wanted was highly inappropriate for our surroundings, a dance would suffice.

“I like to dance with pretty girls.” He grinned, picking up on my hint.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” He craned his neck, glancing over my shoulder. “That one blonde bridesmaid was kinda cute, maybe she’ll dance with me.” That stupid, playful smirk passed over his face—his blue eyes full of mischief.

He grabbed his rims and started to roll back from the table.

“You’re terrible.” I swatted him on the shoulder a few times.

“Ow, ow!” He yelped and pretended to shield himself from my piddly little blows as we both giggled. “Ok, ok. Do you want to dance, Lainey?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A slow dance would have been more ideal, but of course by the time I rolled out to the floor the music kicked up to a trendy pop song.

It was probably for the best though that Gibson wasn’t watching his sister snuggle up on my lap. He was enamored enough with his new bride that he didn’t even give us a second glance. He probably just figured his sister was being nice.

Fine by me.

I braced myself and waited for the awkwardness to ensue. Lainey didn’t bat an eye at my inappropriate table comment about the oral sex, so that was a big win for me. Now was test number two. Most chicks that I’d danced with just stood in front of me, tapping one foot to the other, clapping or snapping, not really knowing what to do with any part of their body.

Not this girl.

Lainey was so adorable the way she moved her hips from side to side, sliding her arms around my shoulders as she encircled me like a prima ballerina. She grabbed my hand and held it over my head while I twirled underneath her in a circle. She sashayed behind me and rubbed her hands over my shoulders and down my chest, giving my pecs a squeeze. When I hooked my arm around her waist, she fell right in line and put hers around my neck, and we spun in a perfect semi-circle. Finally, she sprawled herself across my lap in a faux dip, hamming it up for the final beat of the song.

She pulled herself up, arms wrapped around my neck and planted her lips to mine.

Woah. I sucked in a breath. And here I thought I was far too forward with the comments I’d made. This girl may have been afraid of flying, but

she was more fearless than I’d given her credit for.

She pulled back quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” The kiss didn’t last long, just a friendly peck, but it left me longing for more, and I couldn’t help myself. Staring into those amazing emerald eyes, I needed to taste more of her. I rubbed my hand along her cheek, resisting my primal urge to claim her mouth.

Applause erupted around us, cheers and whistles, and for the first time I realized we had an audience. I’d been so captivated with her, and the fact her lips were on mine, I hadn’t noticed.

She bolted out of my lap and evened her dress, brushing the wrinkles out.

The evening wore on and Lainey stayed glued to my side. We drank, we laughed, we danced a few more songs together. I caught a few glares from Gibson, but he was doing his best to ignore us and focus on his wife.

It was the most fun I’d had with a girl in a long time.

I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to kiss Lainey. Actually, I was aching to do much more to her, but a kiss was a good start. “You wanna get some fresh air?” I nodded to the door.

Her eyes flicked up to her brother who was giving us the stink eye. I knew he was going to kill me, but I had enough liquid courage flowing through my veins that I decided the risk outweighed the repercussions.

“I’ll meet you out there. I’m gonna run to the ladies’ room.” She gave me a fevered stare. I knew her subliminal message was that we shouldn't be seen leaving together. Well played.

“Sounds good.” I nodded and tried my best not to ogle her as she walked away. I rolled over to the bar. As I was giving the bartender my order a strong hand clasped to my shoulder.

“How’s it going DiMarco?” I knew the only one here to be using my last name would be Gibson. I looked up at him as his grip on my shoulder grew tighter.

“Good.” I grabbed the beer from the bartender and took a swig.

“I’ve got some Cubans.” He patted his lapel pocket where a few cigars were poking out. “Let’s head outside and enjoy them.”

“Sure.” I scanned the crowd looking for Lainey, but there was no sign of her. I nodded to him, knowing I couldn’t refuse. I shoved the beer bottle between my legs and followed him out.

When we got outside, he lit his cigar then passed me the lighter.

Rocking back on his heels, he took a long puff and blew the smoke up into the night sky.

“So, married, huh?” I tried to make small talk, but the air was thick with the looming tension.

Gibson looked down at the band on his left ring finger, fiddling with it.

“It’s gonna take some time to get used to this thing.” He chuckled. “She’s a keeper. I’m happy.”

“I’m glad for you.”

We were silent for several moments. “You and my sister seem to be pretty chummy.”

And there it was. “Listen, man…” I ran my hand down the back of my neck.

“No, you listen.” He turned to me and a cold, hard glare passed over his face. “You’re crossing a line.” He pointed at me with the smoldering cigar pinched between his fingers. “I haven’t laid you out on the grass only because it’s my wedding day and you’re…” His eyes darted up and down my seated body, stopping at my lifeless legs.

I winced. Ouch. That stung. Gibson was the last person I expected to say something like that. Fire coursed through my veins at him treating me like less of a man—like I was a dude that couldn’t take a punch or hold his own. I could see others thinking that, but not Gibson.

“Because what?” I stuck the cigar in my mouth, puffed my chest out and rolled closer to him, nudging him with my footplate. “I can’t walk?” I nudged him again.

“Because you’re supposed to be my best friend!” He hollered as he jumped two steps back. “Jesus, DeMarco.” He kicked the wheel of my chair, pushing me away. “And I’m certain you can still kick my ass.” He sighed and scratched his brow with his thumb, the cigar still smoldering in his fingertips. “But hell, for my sister’s honor, I’ll take the beat-down. She’s a good girl, not a one-night stand.”

Yeah, I could see how he’d think that, given my reputation back when I was in the service. Hell, to be honest it wasn’t much better now, but the guys didn’t get it. It’s not like us military dudes sat around, braiding each other's hair talking about sex and shit. I was perfectly content to let them think I was happy going on date after date after date. But I wasn’t. And the thing was, I really liked Lainey. We may have not started anything yet, but

the stupid pitter-patter in my chest told me that this one could possibly be different—which was exactly why I wanted the opportunity to find out.

“Listen, I’m just getting to know her, not trying to get into her panties.”

“Bullshit, dude. Your injury didn’t slow you down a damn bit. You’re still the same as always. One chick after the next.”

“You say that as if you didn’t have your fair share of women parading through Olson Hall,” I spat back at him, reminding him of his time at Fort Benning. It was the pot calling the kettle black. “Look at you now. All of us settle down…eventually.”

“You’re telling me you want to marry my sister?” He snorted and raised a skeptical brow.

I wasn’t about to admit the thought crossed my mind that she could be the start to something serious. It sounded too ridiculous even in my own head. I’d known her for twenty-four hours, but honestly, I’d never felt this excited over a girl before. Ever. I scratched my temple then took another puff from the cigar as I tried to formulate my words. “I barely know her but…”

“But what?”

“She’s super cool. I’ve had my fair share of bad dates over the past several years. Lainey is different.” I shrugged. “Like I said, I just want to get to know her. Take her out on a date. I really like her, ok?” I bent over and put out the cigar on the cobblestone sidewalk.

“I really like him too,” Lainey’s voice echoed from behind us, snapping both our heads in her direction. She walked over, stood behind me, and placed her hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. Then she bent down and kissed me on the cheek, glaring at her brother all the while. I couldn’t help but inhale her intoxicating scent.

Gibson looked like he was going to blow a gasket. “Elaine Maura Gibson…” he growled.

“Ooh, the full name. I must really be in trouble.” She giggled.

“Lainey…”

“What? You don’t think I can make my own choices? Listen, I’m not eight anymore. I don’t need my big brother to rescue me.” She leaned herself onto my shoulder. “You risked your life for Xavier in the service, so that tells me that you think pretty highly of him.”

The girl had a valid point. We were brothers. He knew me better than anyone else.

“Now, run along,” she said, shooing him away with her hand. “Don’t you have a wife you should be with right now?”

Something in Gibson’s face softened as he looked at the two of us. His brow dipped as he pursed his lips and looked to me. “Fine.” He extended his hand, and I grabbed his. He pulled me in and gave me a hug and a pat on the back. “You treat her right, you hear me? Take it slow. If you fuck this up…” he growled in my ear.

“You can bury me.” I slapped him on the back, returning the brotherly hug.

“Don’t think I won’t, fucker.” He socked me in the chest, knocking my chair back slightly and we exchanged a nod.

After he walked inside, I turned to Lainey. “So…” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Maura, huh?” I chuckled.

“Oh, shut it.” She crossed her arms over her glorious rack. “You like me.” She sang in a silly sing song tone. “You want to kiss me…” She giggled.

“Come here, goof.” I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her onto my lap, planting my lips to hers to silence her. She opened her mouth, inviting me in. I wrapped my tongue around hers, drinking in the taste of the champagne on her lips as her fingers threaded through the back of my hair. I gave her one last soft suckle on her bottom lip then pulled back. “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you plopped down next to me on the plane.”

“Kiss me?” Her head tilted to the side.

“No. Shut you up,” I quipped.

She threw her head back and laughed, then gave me a playful pat on the chest. “I talk way too much. It’s a huge fault of mine, I can never shut up. I used to get in trouble in school so much—” I put two fingers on her lips. “Thankfully I can now remedy that.” I planted my lips to hers, claiming her mouth once again.

We all stood in line holding sparklers—well, I stood—Xavier was next to me in his chair as my brother and his bride made their walk to the car to end the evening.

I couldn't believe my brother was married. The guy who used to give me atomic wedgies. The dude who would pick his nose and then try to flick it on me. The asshole who would hold me down and fart on me…actually found someone to marry his nasty ass.

“So now what?” I looked to Xavier as the crowd began to dissipate.

“Well, I was hoping that I could get your number. I’m a bit faster on my wheels but I’m hoping to not have to chase after you again.”

I laughed. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Damn, and there I was hoping he’d ask me back to his hotel. Although, I didn’t want to look like a slut. I was typically a fourth date kind of girl. It’s one longer than the loose girls, and a few less than the prudes. So yeah, I didn’t plan on sleeping with him, but I wasn’t ready for my night with him to end just yet.

I pulled my phone from my purse as he fished his from a fanny pack that was clipped on the bars of his chair, hidden behind his legs. “A fanny pack?” I giggled.

“I know, I know. Not the coolest.” His cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat. “It’s not that easy for me to get shit in and out of my pockets, so I had to come up with a better solution.”

Shit. I hadn't thought about that. Why oh why was I always trying to dig myself out of a verbal hole with this man? “I love it. It’s ingenious,” I backpedaled quickly. “Ya know, they’re coming back in style.” I grinned wide, trying my best to recover.

“What can I say? I’m a trendsetter.” He looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes and smiled crookedly. A strand of his hair fell over his dark eyebrow and my knees went a little weak. God, he was sexy.

We went through the whole swap phones and enter your number exchange, then went inside and grabbed our bags. I helped him hook his backpack on the back of his chair. When we got back outside the venue, it was pretty sparse. It was basically the wedding party and the families left at that juncture.

I glanced over to my mother and father, who were taking with my Irish grandparents. Mom was giving me the stink eye and I couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about my behavior tonight. She patted my granny—my father’s mom—on the shoulder and began striding our direction.

“You about ready, Elaine? I’ve called a cab for us.” She rubbed me on the shoulder, glancing at Xavier out of the corner of her eye.

“Nah, I’m good. I was gonna get my own, Mom.” Actually, I was hoping to share one with Xavier, but he still hadn’t asked me out yet.

She scoffed. “No reason to take separate ones, since we’re headed to the same hotel.” Mom of course knew what I was up to, and this was her way of meddling.

“Maybe I’m not headed to the hotel.” I lifted my chin.

“You shouldn’t head out alone in the city.” She knew damn well I had no plans of going out alone. I lived in Brooklyn for goodness' sake, and Mom hated it. She about had a stroke when I’d moved to the city. She’d been begging me for years to move back to the suburbs.

“Actually, Mrs. Gibson, Lainey and I were going to head out for a little Irish night life,” Xavier finally piped up, saving me from my misery.

Mom turned her gaze to him. “And you are?” she asked.

“One of the groomsmen.” He raised a brow, snorted and smirked.

“Yes, I gathered that much.” Mom’s spine stiffened.

“Sorry. Xavier DiMarco.” He extended his hand. “We met years ago at Fort Benning. Sam introduced us at graduation from OCS.” “Yes, of course.” She plastered on a fake grin and limply shook his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t put the two together. Sam and Ella didn’t include me much in the planning.” Bitter party of one. It had driven Mom bonkers being kept out of the planning process. I’d heard endlessly for months how she couldn’t wait for me to marry so she could be more involved in the planning.

When that day comes, I may just elope.

“Well, I was a little taller back then.” He smirked.

Mom’s skin paled and I covered my mouth with my hand, stifling a laugh. Just then, my father waltzed over. “DiMarco, glad to see you again.”

Dad patted him on the back then heartily shook his hand. “It’s been years.”

At least Dad remembered Xavier. Of course, Daddy never forgot a face.

He was good like that.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Gibson.” Xavier nodded.

“Please. Call me Connor,” Dad offered in his thick, friendly, Irish accent. “You two kids looked pretty chummy tonight.” He laughed boisterously and winked at the two of us. Everyone loved Dad. Not just because of his crazy accent. He was the kindest, funniest man I’d ever known. Finally, Dad unleashed his hold on Xavier’s hand.

“Xavier and Lainey are headed out on the town, so it seems,” Mom informed Dad. “Are ya now?” Dad planted his arms on his hips, rocking back on his heels. “Well, lots of great pubs here to enjoy. Just don’t get Irish drunk.” He winked.

“You have my word that I’ll take good care of her. I’ll make certain she gets back to her room safe.” Xavier put a hand over his heart as a promise.

Mom’s eyes raked over Xavier skeptically, as if he was somehow incapable of watching out for me. It was humiliating.

“Of course he will. That’s what soldiers do.” He patted Xavier again on the shoulder. “Our cab is here, Bunny.” He looked to my mother who swallowed hard—like she’d just been chewing on nails.

She nodded and started to follow my father.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, stopping her. “Can you take my bag for me to back to the hotel?” I grinned and pulled my bag off my shoulder, handing it to her.

“Yes, of course.” The fake smile came out as she grabbed my belongings, nodded and ruffled her red hair. “You kids have fun.” She turned with a wave and walked toward my father.

I breathed out a sigh of relief when she was gone. “Thank you for saving me from my overbearing mother.”

“What? Her?” He scoffed. “She seems like a total delight.” A bemused grin morphed on his face.

I snorted, for lack of anything else better to say.

“I’m sorry. I’m messing with ya. She’s just looking out for her little girl.

I understand it. Something about New York mammas.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You should meet my hot-blooded Italian mother from Queens.

Talk about overbearing. Also, you think my accent is thick? Mom sounds like Janice from Friends.” He waved his hands and said, “Oh. My. God.” In true Janice fashion.

I tossed my head back in laughter. “You do a striking impression.”

He lifted his palms. “I aim to please.”

“So, should I get a cab?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He coughed. “Sure.” He started to go for his bag behind his legs.

“Don’t bother. I got it.” I pulled my phone from my purse. I figured it would be easier for me to so he didn’t have to dig back into the fanny pack for his. “Do I need to like, um, put in a request for a certain type of car?”

“No, I can transfer into a cab just fine.” He rolled back and forth a few inches on the curb while I clicked on the app, almost like he was pacing. It was cute.

“Done. On its way.” I closed the app on my phone. “I was wondering if it was the cab that got you held up last night or what.”

“No. It wasn’t the cab. The elevator in my hotel broke down, so I had to switch. Stairs aren’t really my thing anymore.”

“Ah.” I nodded in understanding. “That must have been a pain in the ass.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it was, but it’s just par for the course when I travel.

Something usually goes wrong.”

“That has to be extremely frustrating.”

He shrugged. “Just gotta roll with the punches.” With his hands firmly on his wheels, he jerked his shoulders back swiftly, popping up on his back two wheels, balancing and grinning like a madman.

God, that was sexy. I would have never thought that popping a wheelie would be so damn hot. But I loved the way he moved, the way his arms gripped to his wheels and his forearm veins bulged. Even the chair was kinda sexy. It was sleek, gunmetal black, sporty and just part of who he was. Honest to god, I couldn’t understand how a single woman wouldn’t be smitten with him, and how he wasn’t snagged up already.

“So what hotel are you staying at?” I asked.

“Hilton Dublin. You?”

“Clayton Hotel.”

“Cool.” He nodded. “Not like I have a fucking clue where anything is here.”

“Same,” I said, and we both shared a good laugh. “Well, thankfully in this modern age we can find out.” I wiggled my phone, and we mapped it.

Turned out our hotels were only a ten-minute walk from each other.

Interesting.

Not much later the cab rolled up to the curb. Thankfully the garden wedding venue was not too far from the center of Dublin, so we didn’t have to wait long for our ride to show up. Xavier rolled closer to the door, and I went to grab the handle. He placed his arm out, stopping me. “Ladies first.”

“Are you sure?” I didn’t want to insult him, but I had to ask.

“Positive. After you.” With one hand he opened the door and smoothly rolled back with his other, swinging the door with him. I climbed in and scooted all the way over to the left side of the vehicle.

“You need help, mate?” The cab driver hollered over his shoulder.

“No sir.” Xavier rolled close to the door and with one swift maneuver he hoisted his bottom out of his chair and into the seat of the cab. He pulled one leg over, leaving the other hanging out. I wondered why, but figured maybe for balance? He then leaned over and pulled the cushion out of his chair. “Mind if I put this up front?” he hollered to the driver.

“Go for it,” the Irishman answered.

Xavier swiveled the chair, pulled off his backpack, dropping it to eh floorboard then leaned over, folding the backrest down. He then popped a wheel off, placing it in the front seat, followed by the second wheel right after. Then swiftly he pulled what was left of the folded chair into the car.

The driver leaned over and helped guide the rest into the front seat. His entire chair was now in pieces in the front passenger seat. He finished by pulling in his right leg and getting it situated, then shut the door.

I shouldn’t gawk, but I couldn’t help it. It fascinated me. Xavier looked over at me and my cheeks flushed as I was caught staring. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…I just…that was…awesome.” I swallowed hard, feeling like an idiot.

“Told ya I had it.” He grinned smugly and fastened his seatbelt. God, that grin. I wanted to kiss those dimples and feel those whiskers against my cheek.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Wherever the lady wants to go.” Xavier bobbed his head my direction.

“Your choice.” He rested his elbow on the window and peered over at me.

Even in the dark cab, those blue eyes were piercing. His jawline impeccable. I wanted to run my fingers through his tousled hair and feel his lips on mine again. He was seriously the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. He was like one of those totally unattainable guys in high school, that every girl dreamed of, and yet here he was with me. The weird art girl that read books at lunch by herself.

I would have never had the courage to talk to him on the plane if the booze hadn’t been coursing through my system, and as humiliating as it was, I’m so thankful I was drunk on that flight. He was so out of my league and if I didn’t jump on this opportunity, I’d probably miss my shot and he’d wind up with some New York supermodel.

Decision made. I didn’t want a crowded pub or bar. I didn’t give a shit about the night life in Dublin. “The Hilton Dublin Hotel,” I blurted to the driver. “If that’s um, all right with you.” I peered up at Xavier.

His eyes slightly widened. I couldn’t tell if it was shock or excitement on his face. Maybe a little of both. “Whatever the lady wants.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and nodded.

Fuck four date Lainey. I wanted him alone and all to myself.

Now it was my turn to freak the fuck out.

Of all the places I honest to God didn’t think she would say my hotel. I figured we’d hit a pub, share a few drinks and laughs and maybe set up a date when we got back to the states. I wasn’t even going to offer to take her out. I wanted to be considerate of her family being here, but it was obvious with the exchange between her and her mother that she wanted more X time and less family time.

So, even as terrified as I was, I’d picked up on her cues and offered to take her out.

And here we were. Heading to my hotel.

“Are you sure?” I asked her the same question she’d just asked me before I transferred into the car.

“Positive.” She nodded fervently.

I’d watched Lainey the previous day as she went through her biggest fear. Somehow, ironically, we wound up smack dab in the middle of mine a little over twenty-four hours later.

I wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting. If she wanted the full shebang, she would be sorely disappointed. I didn’t pack any of my boner pills for the trip, and even if I had there was no chance in hell I was trying that on night number one.

But I wanted her to be satisfied. I wanted it to be a night she remembered, not a night full of regrets. My mind also wandered to Gibson, and how he’d kill me for taking things this fast. But fuck, she wanted to go to my hotel. I couldn’t say no to that. I was nervous, but not stupid. My cock may have not gotten the same signals it used to but testosterone still

fueled my brain. Maybe we’d just do some heavy making out, then watch some TV. The devil in me hoped not. God, I wanted her. So bad.

Part of it was how she looked at me. She was the first girl in a long time that didn’t shy away from watching me do my thing. When I transferred into the car, she never looked away. I didn’t normally like gawking, but that wasn’t what she was doing. She looked at me like everything I was doing was somehow sexy. I couldn’t fucking wrap my brain around it because honestly, a lot of shit I had to do day-to-day was SO NOT sexy. Going this far with her this quick wasn’t part of my plan. I’d wanted to take her out, get to know her, do things slow and right. Then there was the other side of me that wanted to rip that gorgeous, blue dress off of her and go to town.

This girl was tearing me in two.

If it was any other girl, I wouldn’t give a fuck, but this was Gibson’s sister. If things went sour, I could lose one of my closest friends. He was a brother to me, so by association I didn’t want to hurt her.

This was probably a terrible mistake. I rubbed my forehead and my heart started racing the closer we got to the city. Don’t fuck this up kept repeating on a loop in my head.

“Xavier?” she said, pulling my face toward her, breaking me from my internal freak-out.

“Yeah?”

She rubbed my beard and peered deep into my eyes. “I only want to be somewhere quiet with you. Whatever happens, happens. No pressure, all right?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. She scooted closer to me, grabbed my arm and tossed it over her shoulder. She nuzzled in next to me, leaning her head on my chest. We rode like that, snuggled up in the back of the cab for the next fifteen minutes. I buried my head into her hair and took a whiff. It smelled just like it did yesterday, tropical, like coconut.

Mixed with her perfume, it was intoxicating.

Finally, the cab pulled up at the curb of my hotel. The cabbie handed me the base of my chair. I opened the door and placed it outside, then Lainey handed me each wheel followed by my seat cushion, as if it was totally natural and no big deal. Once my chair was assembled and wheels locked, I pressed my palms into the seat of the cab and hoisted my ass over into my chair then adjusted my feet onto the footplate just right. By the time I

wheeled backward and shut the door to the taxi, Lainey was by my side. I popped my wheel back and hopped the curb easily and she followed as I rolled through the doors of the hotel.

“Did you want to stop and get a drink?” I asked, nodding to the bar as we strolled past it.

She shook her pretty head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Alright then. Onto the room we go. I removed my hands from the rims of my chair and dug into my fanny pack behind my legs, removing my card.

I shoved it into my shirt pocket then continued on toward the elevator. The doors chimed and I let Lainey go in first and I rolled in after her. Swiping the keycard onto the scanner, I pressed the button for the fourth floor then shoved the card back into my chest pocket.

She sighed heavily and leaned against the wall and pulled off her heels.

“I’m sorry, my feet feel like they’re bleeding. I just can’t take another second in these shoes.” She wiggled her cute toes covered in pink polish as her heels hung from her grasp.

I didn’t hesitate for one second. I just reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her onto my lap. She squealed and giggled as her arms hooked around my neck. “Thankfully, I can help with that.”

Her eyes locked with mine and the heat between us sizzled. I pressed my lips to hers. She parted her mouth and I slipped in my tongue letting it lap around hers. God, she tasted so damn sweet. Like strawberry cake and champagne. Her hands threaded through the back of my hair, giving it a tug.

The kiss was so damn good, I was sorely disappointed when the elevator came to a halt and the doors chimed open.

She started to stand, but I kept her pulled tight to my lap. “Stay. I got ya.” I rolled us out the door and turned right down the hall, and Lainey held on for the ride the entire trip to my room. She reached in with her free hand and pulled the keycard out of my shirt pocket and slid it through the slot, opening the door. She kicked open the door, still on my lap. It was awkward as hell, and we were both giggling as we rolled into the room.

She hopped off my lap as the door slammed shut behind us. “Thanks for the ride.” She tossed her shoes to the corner and flopped down on the bed, her legs swinging off the side. It was cute how they didn’t touch the floor.

She was so tiny.

“My niece loves rides. Uncle X faster! She hollers.” I smirked, toying with her as I twisted my torso and pulled the backpack off my chair. “She’s

about your size.”

“Hey! I know I’m short. I get teased enough about that from my family.

I don’t need to hear it from you too…” She sat up straighter, planting her arms over her chest. “So X, huh?”

“It's what my friends and family call me.” I shrugged as I tossed the backpack to the corner.

“Well, X, I like it.” A soft grin fell on her face and I knew there were no hard feelings.

I could feel the heat in my eyes as I stared at her. She was so beautiful, her red hair cascading over her creamy shoulders. I rolled closer to her, right up to the bed. Lifting my palm to her cheek, I looked her straight in the eye. Her green orbs with the little flecks of gold were full of laughter and warmth. Like a warm, summer day. Looking into her eyes somehow made all my fears about what lie ahead this evening vanish. “You’re perfect, Lainey.” And I meant it.

She leaned over and pressed her lips to mine again. My hand roamed to the back of her neck, threading my fingers through her long, red waves, tugging on them ever so slightly as our tongues tangled. I wanted her closer to me, and she seemed to pick up on that. She shimmied off the bed, hiked up her dress and straddled my lap. Her hair fell in soft waves over my chest and the scent of her enveloped me once again. I snaked my hands around her back and pulled her in closer. Her perky breasts pressed against my chest, her erect nipples showing her arousal. I could feel them poking through the soft fabric of her dress, brushing against my dress shirt.

She pressed in harder, her hands snaking around my back, nails digging through my shirt.

Lawrd have mercy. “Lainey,” I whispered in her ear, pressing my lips against the soft skin of her neck and I longed to have my lips in other places. “God those tits are fucking fantastic.”

“Do you like that, X?” She pulled back and looked me in the eye. Her hand went up to the spaghetti strap of her dress and slowly she lowered it off her shoulder, drawing it out, teasing me. I lifted my hand to the other dainty strap and lowered it. The soft, pale blue fabric slid off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts in all their glory. They were soft and perky and peppered in light freckles. I lifted a thumb to her hard, pink nipple and stroked it softly. Her head tilted back to the ceiling and a soft moan escaped her pouty lips.

Leaning in, I opened my mouth and took in her nipple, swirling my tongue in soft circles. Her hips rocked in pleasure against my belly the more I continued to suck. Fingers threaded through my hair, she tugged, pressing my face in further. “Oh X, that feels wonderful,” she moaned.

I pulled back and looked into her eyes. She looked as ravenous as I felt.

Placing my hands on her tiny waist, I lifted her in one swoop to the bed. I rolled up until my knees hit the mattress and locked my wheels. Slowly, I traced my hand up one thigh, under her skirt, then did the same to the left side, gently pulling her legs apart. She lifted her bottom as the fabric grew higher, allowing me to pull it all the way up to her waist.

As my hand grew near the center of her heat, she moaned and spread her legs wider. My thumb grazed the top of her lacy panties, her arousal evident from the moisture that had seeped through them. Holy hell.

She grabbed the fabric at her waist and pulled the dress up and over her head, discarding it to the floor. She was naked in front of me except for a lacy pair of pale blue panties. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“Your turn.” Lainey leaned over, her soft breasts nearing my face. She then tugged on my tie, pulling the knot completely loose, then in one fell swoop, she yanked it out from under my collar and wrapped it behind her neck. The tie hung loosely between her breasts and I used it to pull her back into me, so I could kiss her lips once again. As our mouths crushed against each other, her fingers fumbled at the buttons on my shirt. I sucked on her bottom lip and she tugged my shirt free from my waist, snaking it off my shoulders.

She pulled back and looked at me. “Holy shit, X. You’re…you’re…”

Her jaw flopped open.

I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m what?”

“Sexy.” She ran her palms over every muscle in my arm, her eyes raked over my ink-covered chest and biceps. “Your chest is so huge.” Her eyes widened. “All those tats.” She hummed a little. Admittedly, my ego soared a little at her approval. My upper body I was damn proud of.

I smirked. “I was thinking the same about yours.” My eyes went right back to her boobs.

She smiled and tucked her head down shyly, biting on her nail. “I don’t usually do this. I’m not a first date kinda girl…”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Lainey.” I rubbed my hand over her smooth thigh.

She shook her head. “No, I want to. That’s the crazy thing. I feel totally comfortable with you.” She chuckled. “Maybe because you’ve already seen me at my worst, and yet, here you are.”

I watched as she reached out her leg and rubbed it back and forth on my thigh, inching closer to my groin. God, I wish I could feel that, but seeing it was so damn sexy my mind filled in the blanks. My ears grew warm and I sucked in a ragged breath as my heart pounded against my ribcage.

My knee began to bounce up and down as my foot thudded against my footrest, tap, tap, tap, tap in a rapid pace. The second leg quickly followed.

Lainey quickly jerked her foot back, eyes wide.

Fuck.

“It’s ok, it’s just a spasm.” I leaned forward and pressed my forearms on my legs, applying pressure. This trick would usually get my legs to stop the bounce.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” she asked. God, I hated the panicked look on her face.

I shook my head. “No. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. I’m so fucking turned on by you Lainey, and my body doesn’t know what to do about that.” That sounded like the best thing to say. Finally after several excruciating seconds my legs calmed the fuck down.

She was sitting there, so naked, so damn beautiful and so freaked out.

God, this sucked.

“Can you excuse me for a minute?” I breathed heavy.

She nodded quickly.

I unlocked my wheels and rolled into the bathroom. I unzipped my pants and took a gander. Holy shit. My cock was half-way to attention.

Being a T-12 complete this almost never happened. Rare was it that a girl could get me so turned on that my dick got the message. But the way she’d been rubbing on me, my body got the signal somehow.

Reaching into my toiletry bag on the counter, I grabbed a catheter and quickly emptied my bladder. That was probably the main reason for the spasms. I should have done this the second I got into the room, but Lainey had distracted me in the best way possible.

I tossed the tube in the trash, washed up and rolled back out to the room, terrified to even look at her face. “I’m sorry.” I dropped my head lower.

Finally I willed myself to look up at her, feeling so remorseful she had to see that. Sure, all chicks that I’m with eventually are privy to it, but not so

soon. “Listen, that just kinda happens with me sometimes. It’s totally normal. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok?”

“It’s all right, X.” God, I loved it when she called me X. She had the sweetest, softest voice.

“Well, now you’ve seen me at my worst.” I ran a hand through my hair.

“Maybe now we’re even on the humiliation scale as far as bodily functions go.”

She chuckled. “You’re not even close yet.” She reached over and cupped my jaw. Her smile was so warm and genuine, it really made me feel better.

“Well, the night is still young.” I offered her a half-hearted grin.

All right, we can totally recover from this.

That’s what I told myself as X had rolled off into the bathroom. He’d go in there and do…well, I wasn’t quite sure what the hell he was doing, but when he came back out, I would do my damndest to stoke the fire once again.

Because even after what just happened, I still wanted him. And as he sat there in front of me running his hands through his chocolate locks looking so bashful, I desired him even more. I wanted him to know he had nothing, not a damn thing to be ashamed of.

And that’s what I tried my best to do. As I reached over, caressed his check, his whiskers tickling my fingers, I wanted to kiss him again. So I did. I leaned over and pressed my lips to his softly. I pulled back slightly, staring straight into those deep, blue eyes and hoped it conveyed the message to him how sexy I thought he was. “Yes, the night is still young, and we’re not finished yet.”

I think that worked because a low growl came from the back of his throat. He then grabbed my face and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard it stole my breath away. He sucked on my bottom lip and gave it a nibble, causing me to whimper in desire.

God, he was an amazing kisser, and I wanted nothing more than to feel that tongue in other places.

His lips trailed down my cheek as he showered soft kisses across my skin. Every hair stood on end as he sucked and licked on my collarbone.

“God, X, that feels so damn good.”

“Call me X again,” he growled, nibbling at my neck.

“Oh X, more please,” I begged.

“You got it.” Xavier pressed me back onto the bed with just the right amount of sexy force, then took my leg, hooking it over his shoulder. He pulled me by my waist until my bottom was right at the edge of the bed. He slowly trailed kisses up the inside of my thigh and I was already squirming in anticipation. His hot breath was steaming up my already wet panties and as he kissed them I was ready for him to just rip them off of me. Finally, he hooked his fingers around the sides of the garment and pulled them down.

My heart was pounding double time.

His hot breath was back on my now exposed flesh and that right there alone practically sent me over the edge. He blew softly, teasing, drawing it out, turning me on in a way I didn’t know was possible. Finally, his tongue hit my throbbing clit and it was as magical as I’d imagined. In soft circles he swirled around my nub applying just the right amount of pressure, gradually building the tension.

“Lainey, you taste so fucking good,” he mumbled as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of my thighs.

A moment later his thick finger went inside me, followed by a second as his tongue continued to work its magic and he pressed up into my g-spot.

My squirming intensified as I tried my best to hold back. I didn’t want this to end but X was so damn good. His lips wrapped around my clit and he sucked, working me both from the outside and inside. My thighs clamped around his neck like a vice and began to shake. It wouldn’t be long now.

My eyes clenched shut as my body climbed toward the peak. Then it hit.

Like a firework explosion, the waves of pleasure began to roll through my body. My fists clenched to the bedding, and I couldn’t help but scream it felt so damn good. He pressed his fingers in harder, and a second orgasm hit right on top of the first.

As I squirmed underneath him, he continued to suck on my clit. I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged, probably harder than I should have. A third orgasm rolled over me. I was certain at this point I’d black out and the neighbors would probably call the police, I was screaming so damn loud.

I patted him on the shoulder. My poor, tiny body could not take anymore, and I’m certain Xavier would go all night if I’d let him.

I lay there, chest heaving, trying to catch my breath. Xavier pulled back and wiped his chin as I leaned up on my elbows. He was grinning like a

fool, and I’m pretty certain I was as well.

He rolled over to the mini bar and opened the fridge. My eyes raked him up and down. God, that chest of his was to die for. Those veiny, buff forearms bulged as he pushed, and every curve and ripple of his back flexed with each motion. Never had I been with a man so chiseled as him.

He grabbed a bottle of water and shoved it between his legs. As he rolled back over to me, I closed my mouth that was hanging open. He unscrewed the lid, took a swig then offered it to me. “Thirsty?”

I nodded slowly and took the offering, downing several gulps to quench my parched throat. Hands down, he was the sexiest man I’d ever been with, and all I could think was why me? As I lay there naked, insecurity began to rear its ugly head. He’d been so damn magical with his tongue, I wondered how many other women he’d pleased the same way. I’d overheard his conversation with my brother, and all Sam’s reservations. The man was an Adonis. Maybe he had women flocking at his feet. Suddenly, I got terrified that maybe I was just another notch on his belt.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded again. “Just admiring my view and wondering how I got this lucky.” I took another sip then handed it back to him. “You’re so far out of my league, it’s laughable.”

His chin jutted back, as if that statement shocked him. “Say what?”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I just…I’ve never been with someone so…so…good looking.” I looked down and traced the pattern of the bedspread with my fingertips.

He leaned over and tilted up my chin. “Lainey, you’re fucking gorgeous.

Someone would have to be blind to not see it.” His lips gently touched mine. The taste of my tang was still on his lips. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel how he just made me feel. I needed to level the field.

I leaned my forehead against his. “Xavier?”

“Yes?” “How do I…I want to…” I stammered, trying to formulate my words.

“I’m just feeling quite naked compared to you.” My eyes flicked up and met his. “I want to please you too.”

He seemed to reflect on that for a moment. “All right.” He sighed and nodded.

I couldn’t stand the look of vulnerability in her eyes as she told me she wanted to please me too.

Typically, most chicks would be selfishly satisfied, roll over and they’d be snoozing away before I undressed and transferred into the bed.

Not this girl.

I knew going into this evening that Lainey was no one-night-stand girl.

This was Gibson's sister. She’d been beautifully vulnerable with me, so it was my turn to be vulnerable with her.

“All right.” I nodded. “But this isn’t super sexy to watch.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, elbow on her knee, hand under her chin, my now captive audience.

I could only laugh at her adorableness.

With a heavy sigh, I bent over and hooked my finger around the leg of my pants, pulling my limp leg across my lap. I took off one shoe and sock, then did the same with the other foot. Reaching for my belt, I unbuckled it.

I lifted my ass and scooted to the very front edge of my chair. Hooking both thumbs into my pants, I then pressed down on my rims, lifting my bottom so I could pull them down.

Lainey started making some bow-chicka-wow-wow noises and snapped her fingers. “Yeah baby, take it all off.” She winked at me. She was such a fucking goddamn goober.

My cheeks flushed and I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t sure if I was humiliated or completely smitten with her crazy-ass. Regardless, she made my heart feel lighter. I lifted one leg and pulled the garment off, resting my limp foot back on the footplate, followed by the other.

“Now get your ass up here.” She pulled down the covers, scooted over and patted the mattress.

I rolled up right next to the bed, facing the headboard. Pressing up, I transferred up into the bed, pushing the chair away toward the foot of the bed. I swiveled around and pulled my skinny legs up onto the mattress.

Lainey rolled over and began running her fingernail over my chest, tracing the lines of my ink. Her lips landed on my neck, planting sweet, soft kisses along my collarbone. My heart started beating double time in my chest as her intoxicating scent filled my senses. I put my hand on her back, caressing her as her tongue worked its magic.

“Tell me what feels good for you, X,” she whispered into my ear before giving it a nibble.

Everything is what I wanted to say. I closed my eyes and fought back the moisture in them. No woman had ever asked me that since my injury.

Sure, I’d been with plenty, but not one really gave a shit how I felt when all was said and done. Her hands rubbed all over me as her soft hair cascaded over my chest. Her lips grew close to my nipple and she looked up at me with those hooded, green eyes, smirked and flicked it with her tongue.

Electricity fired through my senses and I groaned.

“You like that?” Her brow arched.

“Yes,” I growled.

Her lips wrapped around my nipple and she went to town. If my toes could curl, they would have. I gripped tight to the sheets with my free hand as the other dug into her flesh. “Fucking hell, Lainey,” I groaned as my eyes rolled back in my head.

As she continued to suck on my nipple, her hand trailed down my torso.

When she reached the line of my injury where the sensation stopped, I put my hand on top of hers. “Right there.” I looked her in the eye. “That’s where it stops.”

“Is it sensitive?” she asked.

“Mmm hmmm.” I nodded.

“In a good way?”

I nodded again.

“Good to know.” She grinned and went back to my nipple. Her fingertips traced across the fault line and my legs began to spasm as the heat in my body rose. She didn’t even bat an eye. She just kept at it. My

head began to tingle and my fingertips went numb…in a good way. A wave of heat followed by coolness washed over me as my chest tightened.

I was having a fucking orgasm. Holy shit.

It was different from what I recalled, but the same sensations in my head were there. “Oh god, Lainey. Don’t stop,” I begged.

She sucked harder on my nipple and I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me. My shoulders jerked and I could feel the veins in my neck throbbing. Finally the wave subsided and it was over.

I lay there, panting, sweating through the sheets as Lainey curled herself into my chest. It was a fucking goddamn beautiful feeling.

“Did that, um, work for you?” She leaned her head up and looked at me, gnawing on her bottom lip. God, she was so pretty, so sweet.

I met her gaze. “You have no fucking idea.” I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight. I couldn’t bear to tell her this was the first orgasm that I’d had in four years. The first time that I’d hit the peak since my injury. I knew it was possible talking with other dudes like myself, I just didn’t know if it would ever happen for me. “Thank you.”

“Thanks for taking care of me yesterday, X,” she whispered softly into my chest.

“Anytime, Lainey. Anytime.” I squeezed her again then rolled over and flicked off the light.

This girl had turned my entire world on its axis. Funny how life can completely change so quickly.

I opened my eyes and the sunlight was cracking through the blackout curtains. I glanced over and Lainey was drooling away on the pillow, snoring with her mouth ajar.

God, she was cute. Even if she was snoring like a lumberjack.

I pressed myself up on the mattress and leaned over, pulling my chair close. I transferred in quickly and rolled to the bathroom and emptied my bladder. Flipping on the shower, I transferred into the shower chair and began to wash the night off my body.

As I was hosing myself off with the sprayer, the door creaked open. I snapped my head toward the door and there stood Lainey, in all her naked glory.

My eyes widened. What the hell?

“Can I join you?” she asked.

Seriously?

Sure, she’d seen me in my boxers last night, but this? Sitting in a goddamn shower chair? Then again, she was completely in the buff and not the least bit bashful about it. “Um, sure?”

Her hips swayed as she sashayed over to me, sliding open the glass door. She grabbed the showerhead from my grasp and straddled my lap.

Holy hell. This girl who was scared of flying had no damn fear when it came to anything else. Sure, her boundaries were a little skewed, but whatever. We’d already gone further than I’d intended, so I just rolled with it, because she was too damn sexy to pass up.

She rinsed my hair and the hot water combined with her smokin’ body on top of me felt so damn good. I snatched it from her grasp and returned

the favor, running the warm water over her long, red hair.

She leaned over and grabbed the shampoo, squeezing it into her palm.

She dug into my scalp, working it into a rich lather. I closed my eyes and soaked in the feeling of being pampered.

She rinsed me down and I returned the favor, working her long, luscious locks into a foam. We giggled and laughed and were a slippery, soapy mess.

Her lips planted to mine, wet, soapy tits rubbing up against my chest. I could taste a little shampoo in my mouth, but it didn’t matter. It was the most damn fun I’d had in a long time. And it was the most intimate thing a chick had ever done with me.

Finally, we rinsed ourselves clean. She stood and grabbed a towel, drying herself off, then handed me one.

“Fuck, Lainey. We need to have a serious discussion about your boundaries,” I said as I toweled off. I looked up at her and offered a crooked grin and a wink. “But damn, don’t get me wrong, that was hot as fuck.”

She laughed like a crazy person, her head tossing back. “I’ll give you a little privacy now.” She sauntered out of the bathroom and let me be. I finished drying my body and put the towel in the cushion of my chair, then transferred over.

I brushed my teeth then grabbed another towel to cover my junk then rolled out into the room. Lainey was sitting on the bed, a towel wrapped around her body, checking her phone frowning.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“I need to get back to my hotel. Family breakfast in thirty minutes. If I don’t show, Mom is liable to send out the cavalry.”

“Gotcha.” I nodded.

I dressed as Lainey went into the bathroom and blow dried her hair.

Fifteen minutes later we were headed down in the elevator. She’d offered to head back by herself, but no fucking way. I made a promise to her father that I’d see that she got back to her hotel safe, and I was a man of my word.

Ten minutes later we were strolling through the doors of her hotel.

“Well, this is a first for me.” She stopped in the lobby and turned to me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The walk of shame in the same clothes I wore the night before.” She chuckled and pressed a palm against the belly of her dress.

I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lainey, there is no shame in what we did. It was…” beautiful. God, I felt like such a goddamn pussy for

thinking that but it’s exactly what it was.

Right as I opened my mouth to say more, I heard a familiar voice echo from behind us. “Oh, hell no.”

I turned and snapped my gaze to the sound of the voice to see Gibson barreling toward me. I swear to God his face was so red he looked like a bull charging. His green eyes darted between Lainey, still in the same clothes from the wedding and me. His fists clenched and nostrils flared as he did the math.

Fuuuuuck.

“You said you wanted to get to know her.” He shook his head in disgust.

“But what? You fuck my sister the first night you meet her?”

“Sam!” Lainey shouted.

“I trusted you, man!” he shouted. I glanced around and an audience was forming.

“Listen, man,” I began, rubbing the back of my neck, but I didn’t have time to get the rest out. Before I could even blink, a fist landed against my jaw, knocking me backward out of my chair and straight to the floor.

“Sam!” Lainey shouted again above me. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

Sam looked down at me. “I told you she wasn’t a one-night stand,” Gibson looked down and hollered at me.

I leaned up on one elbow, clutching my aching jaw as Gibson and his sister continued to holler at each other. I was so fucking pissed that he’d knocked me out of my chair, add to it the fact that he was yelling at Lainey.

All I saw was red. Thankfully, I was a wrestler in high school. That boded well for me at the moment. I reached out and grabbed Gibson by the calves, pulling him straight down to the ground.

I could hear the screams of people around us as I clawed my way up his body. The two of us rolled around on the floor, taking swings at each other.

Eventually, I got the upper hand by putting my right arm next to his face and wrapping my left arm around his knee. Locking both my hands into place, I got him into a cradle pin.

“Now you listen to me right now, fucker,” I hissed into his ear. “I have no intention of this being a one-night stand. Do you hear me?”

“Fuck you,” he sputtered.

I clenched tighter on his throat. “Tell me that you understand me, fucker.”

He gurgled and didn’t say anything.

“Gibson, I’m not going to hurt your sister,” I whisper-shouted into his ear. “I just had the best damn night of my life and you’re seriously putting a damper on it, you goddamn asshole.”

He was quiet for a moment then finally muttered, “Fine.” He breathed heavy and patted his hand on the ground, tapping out.

I released my hold on his neck and rolled to my back. We both lay there, panting heavy, catching our breath. I looked up to see both Lainey and Ella standing over us, looking appalled, and pretty pissed.

I turned my head to my right and looked at Gibson who was rubbing his red neck trying to catch his air. He glowered at me and rolled his eyes. “I knew you could still kick my ass. I was a dumbass for trying to take you on.” Something resembling a smirk tugged at his lips.

Part of me wanted to punch him in the gut, the other part of me wanted to hug him. I hadn’t grappled in ages. It felt good to know even without my legs I could still take him down. I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing at how ridiculous we must have looked.

His smirk formed into a full-on grin and he started laughing too. He sat up and wiped his bleeding mouth. “Dude, that shit ain’t right.” He nodded down toward my legs.

I hoisted myself up to my elbow and looked down, assessing the damage. He was right. My legs were twisted like a goddamn pretzel. How in the hell did I take him down? Our laughter turned into full blown guffaw’s as we lay on the floor laughing like idiots.

“Are you two morons done now?” Lainey asked, crossing her arms over her chest, staring down at us.

Gibson and I exchanged another glance. “We good?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed and he curled his lips. “Yeah. I guess.” He stood.

“Do you, um, need help?” he asked.

“I got it.” Fuck if I was gonna have him pull me off the ground. “You still hit like a girl, by the way,” I added, getting one final dig in.

“Fuck you,” he half-growled, half-chuckled.

“Just bring me my goddamn chair.” I nodded to my wheels that were out of my grasp. Gibson rolled the chair over to me. Thankfully this was a maneuver I’d practiced a thousand times. I pressed myself up to a sitting position and locked my wheels. I rolled the chair to my left side, adjacent to my body, and pulled up my left knee. I grabbed my right leg and used my

chin to keep it from flopping over. Left arm hooked on my seat cushion, right fist firmly into the ground I pressed up and launched myself into my chair.

Ella waltzed over and stood in front of her groom, looking up at him.

“You,” she growled and pushed him in the chest. “At our wedding breakfast? You seriously just hit a man in a wheelchair? What the hell is wrong with you?”

I smirked like the son of a bitch I was as she gave him the riot act.

“And you!” Lainey looked down at me, scowling.

Me? I blinked. What the fuck did I do wrong?

We both just stayed there listening as the women simultaneously hollered at us. I wasn’t even sure what they were saying. It was like the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoons and Gibson and I just locked eyes and smirked at each other, letting the ladies rant.

Eventually, they finished their tirade.

“I’m going to change clothes,” Lainey said. “I’ll be back down in a few minutes.” She turned and went toward the elevator.

“I’ll come with you,” Ella said, following her “I need details, girl,” I heard her whisper as they hooked arms and walked away.

Once they were out of earshot Gibson turned and looked at me. “You hungry?” he said through his fat-lip. “We’re having a family breakfast. You may as well join us, since I’m going to make you marry my sister now.”

I looked up at Gibson out of my one eye and grinned. The other was rapidly swelling shut. “Famished.”

“I can’t do this X,” Lainey screamed over the roaring wind in the small plane. “I changed my mind. Tell the pilot to land the plane.”

I looked over at my girl gripping tight to the straps on her parachute.

My girl.

Her knuckles were white from clenching so hard to the straps, and her creamy, freckled skin was turning even more blanched than normal. I rubbed my calloused thumb over her cheek. “Would I ever do anything that would hurt you?” If something happened to her, I’d lose my mind. I was head over heels for this girl. She was the one.

She bit her bottom lip. “No, but…” she looked down at my legs. I didn’t get offended by it. After a year of us being together, I knew she accepted me for all that I was, and I could also understand her trepidation knowing I was injured doing the very thing we were about to do.

Over this past year, my girl had gotten braver and braver. She told me for our one-year anniversary she wanted to skydive with me. I was shocked, but we’d worked up to this moment. We’d gone to the top of the Empire State Building, on roller coasters and even zip lining. She’d started to become a junkie for the adrenaline rush. Also, the fact that we could line jump on the rides due to my chair was a big bonus in Lainey’s book. It gave her less time to freak out and second guess her decisions.

We may have tested every one of her fears, but she’d calmed all mine as well. The things this girl did to me in the bedroom. There wasn’t a damn thing she wasn’t willing to try to please me. And boy oh boy did we please each other. She never made me feel like less of a man when we were behind locked doors.

We’d also had the tough talks about what it would take for us to have kids. The natural way wasn’t going to ever work for us, but there were methods—mostly humiliating ones for me that I was totally willing to endure for her sake. And if insemination didn’t work, we’d adopt.

“We’re reaching altitude!” the pilot hollered at me. I double checked the straps on my legs. That would keep them together and not flailing all over the place. Typically, paras that were tandem jumping would be hooked to the front of the instructor, but since I was the instructor, I was hooked to her back. Lainey would be in front of me.

“Come on.” I patted my lap, and she hopped in it, shaking like a leaf. I hooked myself to her and triple checked the connection.

“I may pee on you,” she screamed.

“It’s ok baby.” I squeezed her tight. “You know I’m down for some kinky stuff.” I laughed as she elbowed me in the gut, now giggling herself.

Good. I lightened the mood.

We reached the jump zone, and I leaned over and opened the side door of the plane, the air whipping us in the face. She screamed so loud it was distinguishable even over the sound of the roaring wind and the motor of the plane.

My seat was next to the door, so all we had to do was rotate to the side and free fall out. I didn’t give her a countdown, I didn’t hesitate. I knew the most fearful few minutes of the cherry-blast was sitting there, waiting—so it was best to get it over with.

I launched us out. Typically, I loved this moment. That time where you feel weightless and all you can do is enjoy the scenery below, but this time I was focused on her. I wanted to make sure my baby was ok.

We only free fell for about thirty seconds before I said a quick prayer (like always) and pulled the chute. The familiar jolt of the parachute catching the wind jostled us, and I knew everything was just fine.

We floated like a feather to the ground. I loved this part the most, especially since my injury. It was the one time I felt truly free of my disability. She landed, and I fell softly on top of her, then rolled over. I quickly unfastened the clips tethering us together.

“Holy shit that was amazing!” She threw herself at me, knocking me back to the ground as she planted her lips to mine. She pulled back and stared into my eyes. The megawatt smile on her face was priceless. “Let’s do it again!”

“Really?” I grinned. “You didn’t hate it?”

“No, you’re right. We’re up so high it doesn’t even feel real, then it’s just the feeling of flying. Honestly, the worst was waiting to jump. After that it was just surreal.”

“Told ya so.” I winked at her then I scooped her into my chest and kissed her on the top of the head. We lay on the ground for some time and stared up at the sky, saying what we thought each cloud looked like.

“That one looks like a rabbit,” she pointed out.

“That one looks like boobs,” I teased.

“Typical dude. Everything looks like boobs to you.”

I heard the faint motor of the airplane pulling around in the distance.

Now it was time for my heart to beat out of my chest. We may have been safe on the ground, but I was about to do the scariest thing I’d ever done in my life. Even though I was certain she’d say yes, there’s always that little voice inside your head that whispers the what-if’s.

“Is that the plane?” She motioned to the sky.

“Mmm hmmm,” I hummed.

“Shouldn’t it be landing?” She knew the plane had my chair in it. The plan was to land, she’d grab it and bring it over to me. At least that’s the plan we discussed. Little did she know I had other plans.

“Not just yet.” I grinned.

A banner flew from behind the plane, just as planned, spelling out Lainey, will you marry me?

Yeah this was fucking cheesy as hell. I may as well have proposed on the jumbo-tron during a Knicks game for how cliché this was, but I knew my hopeless romantic girl who was addicted to watching rom-coms would love it.

“Wait…” she squinted. “Does that say…”

I sat up on my elbow and reached into the pocket on my knapsack, pulling out the ring. “Lainey, I love you. I think I loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you—” “Only because I stuck my tits in your face,” she interrupted.

I grinned. “Ok, I have to admit those are fantastic, but no.” I chuckled.

“I knew there was something special about you. I knew after that first dance with you that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my days with.”

I reached over and stroked her creamy cheek, gazing into those emerald eyes. “Marry me?”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Yes.” She nodded, grinning so wide that I feared her jaw would break. I leaned in and kissed her deeply.

“I love you, Lainey.”

“I love you too, X.” She yanked off her glove and held out her hand and I slipped the ring on her finger.

THE END

Dear Readers, Thank you for reading my words and giving me a chance to entertain you.

Plane Love is just one of the novellas in a collaboration called Honoring Those Who Serve. Other authors and myself wanted to write stories about veterans, past and present to pay homage to those who have served so bravely.

Every story in this collaboration is a romance. Some feature active service, some retired, some current, some past.

Honoring Those Who Serve Collaboration All of these stories are romances, and all seek to honor our veterans and active duty military members, but that's the majority of connection between them.

Some are sweet, some are steamy. Some are modern, some are historical.

Some feature active-duty soldiers, some star vets. Some take place during wartime, some during peacetime.

No matter what your preference, you'll find a beautiful story in this bunch that will melt your heart and sweep you off your feet. Please take the time and check out the other novellas in this series.

Never Forget by Marie Savage Public Relations by Brittany Anne Broken Heartbeats by Lindsay Becs Saving Ryleigh by K.R. Reese Callahan’s Haven by Sandra Daniels Signed Sealed Delivered by Jaime Russel Hidden Letters by Audrey Ravine Love, Mercy by Brooke May

Thanks to my loyal readers for sticking with me while I put the Fire and Fury gang on the shelf for a minute. For those that are Avery virgins, I’ve got an entire steamy, angsty series that I’d love for you to read. I guarantee that you’re gonna fall for Scott, Tori and all their friends in my military romance series Fire and Fury. Keep reading for a sample of book one, Chasing Fire.

To stay up to date on my most recent releases and events, I’d love to have you join my Facebook reader group: Avery’s Angels! Why? Because even good girls need to be bad sometimes. Come join in on the naughtiness.

Please leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads and to tell others what you thought about the book. Reviews are the number one thing that readers can do to help out an indie author. I mean, really… I can NOT express enough the importance of reviews. Also, every time you read a book and don’t leave a review, a unicorn dies.

Ok, I’m lying, but you get my gist. But pretty please, leave a review for me!

Also I love to hear personally from my readers. Honestly, I get a little giddy. Feel free to drop me a line at: averyjkingston@gmail.com.

Also, I LOVE to be social. Come stalk me!

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram XOXOXOXO,

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS First of all, I want to thank my husband. Without him, I would have never started writing. In an effort to remain connected during his military leave, he sent me a story about an amputee veteran meeting a blind woman in a bar. Little did he know that this would ignite an entire series of books. (A decision I’m certain he regrets to this day).

Thank you, baby, for being my biggest fan (and harshest critic). I love you with every fiber of my being. Thank you for helping me breathe life into these amazing characters. Thank you most of all for believing in me, encouraging me AND reading this (even though you pouted like a child when you found out this was NOT another Scott and Tori book).

Next, I want to thank Annabelle. I can’t even begin to express the depths that you have helped me along this journey as an indie author. Thank you for your sound advice, friendship and for not judging me when I spew my crazy all over you. Writing is sometimes a lonely journey, and it’s been refreshing to have someone that’s been there and understands.

To Audrey - you’re my best friend girl. I mean it. I’m so glad that God connected the two of us together. I can’t wait someday to do a collaboration with you!

To Dixie. GOD I know you’ve been waiting for this book. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you for letting me spew my crazy all over you as I freaked the fuck out during this writing process.

To all the book bloggers that have given me love I can’t thank you enough for helping me promote all my stories.

Finally to my readers, my fans. Avery’s Angels. I can NOT thank you enough for your support. Thanks for pimping my books and giving me words of encouragement. I’m truly humbled at your love and support of my work.

Finally thank you to whiskey and red wine… without you to partake at night I would have lost my sanity.

CHASING FIRE - BY AVERY KINGSTON PRESENT DAY Seven months, three days.

That’s how long it had been since she’d gotten laid. Longest. Dry spell. Ever.

Of course, sex is what had gotten Tori into this mess to begin with.

“Just think of it like popping your cherry all over again.” Keith’s laugh cackled through the speaker of her phone. “Not many women get that opportunity, especially girls like you, Vic.” “I’ve warned you time and time again about slut shaming.” She did her best to give him a huge eye roll over FaceTime, but a smirk tugged at her lips in spite of her irritation. “Just tell me… How do I look?”

“Hot. Just enough cleavage that you’re only mildly slutty.” The dress was grey, but Keith promised it wasn’t drab. “The color brings out the blue in your eyes.”

She huffed. “Let’s just hope he keeps his focus on my tits.”

Keith giggled.

“How’s my makeup?” For a girl who’d spent years painting breathtaking art on canvas, she’d always been terrible with eyeshadow— smoky eyes being her total nemesis.

“It’s fine, Vic.” Fine. Ugh. What had she been expecting him to say? That it was a masterpiece?

“Now are you gonna go get laid or sit here on FaceTime with me all night? You’re seriously putting a damper on my plans for this evening. I’m scaring off all the men in this restroom by talking to you. Unlike you, I don’t have a scheduled fuck tonight. I have to go shake my tail feather for it.”

She breathed heavily through her nose. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Have fun, gorgeous. You deserve it.”

Three beeps later, the line went dead.

She walked over to the desk, grabbed her purse, and dropped the phone into it. She looped it over her shoulder, crossing her chest securely.

Her fingertips searched the smooth wooden dresser for the room keycard.

Zipper pocket left side, she reminded herself as she tucked in the card. Her

hands trembled as they reached for her sunglasses. She paused, thinking of all the time she’d spent on her eyeshadow. The thought of going out in public without them, the world seeing her vacant gaze, made her skin crawl.

“You can do this,” she whispered and let them lay. She’d seen his biggest flaw; he could see hers. Fuck everyone else.

Her hands continued across the dresser, meeting the cold graphite poles. She grabbed them, pulled off the elastic loop and with a quick flick of her wrist, her cane came together with a snap. She clutched it to her chest, gripping the handle so tightly she was certain her knuckles turned white. Such irony that the one thing that secured her safety made her feel so vulnerable. With a heavy breath, she moved forward.

Tori walked into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She headed the short distance to the elevator. Her palm slid along the wall, searching for the buttons, then pressing the bottom one.

The metal doors creaked open. She listened for anyone exiting.

Silence. She swiped her cane and stepped in. Her fingers trailed the floor selections. She recalled “LOBBY” had been on the bottom-right when she’d checked in. The raised braille dots confirmed it. She punched the button. The doors squeaked shut, and she counted the floors beeping by.

The last thing she wanted to do was repeat the embarrassment of getting off on the wrong floor again. The elevator came to a halt and chimed as it opened. She felt the left side of the jamb for the raised dots. “LOBBY” it read. Good job.

Her cane scraped across the marble tile until her ears took in the faint swishing of the revolving door. She opted for the regular door next to it. Stepping outside, she pushed her dress down, making sure her ass wasn’t showing. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her cheeks grew hot. The lack of fabric made her feel on display. She used to relish in the attention from strangers, but now she wished she could blend.

The bar she was going to was close—less than a quarter a mile—not far by DC standards. DuPont Circle was one of their normal meeting spots, so she knew the area well. Familiarity was key in her life now. She walked ahead, her cane leading the way, scraping across the brick tile underfoot.

Her ears took in the cacophony of everything around her: the blaring of horns, people bustling by her, and bits of conversations as she passed.

The sidewalk was uneven and full of ridges. Heels were a ridiculous idea. She slowed her pace, praying she didn’t trip. Her cane dipped off the curb and ran over the raised, textured walkway. She swiped to the left, and the clank of metal indicated she’d found the pole. She ran her hand down to the crosswalk button, flinching as a speeding bus whooshed past her.

The signal beeped, starting a countdown. Walk, walk, it began. She waited and listened, moving forward only when she was certain the surge of traffic was going the opposite direction. If she’d learned one thing, it was to trust her ears more than the signal. Tori’s heart pounded. No matter how many times she’d done this, it was still nerve-wracking.

Her cane hit the curb and she stepped up. She let out the shaky breath she’d been holding in. Music spilled out from the doorway to the bar on her right. She followed the sound up the stairs.

"Good evening, miss. May I assist you?" boomed a deep male voice as she approached. The man didn’t startle her. She knew a bouncer or two would be at the door, and of course, the cane drew attention.

“Yes, I’ll be meeting someone here shortly. If you could show me to the bar, I’d appreciate it.” She flashed her most confident fake grin.

“Of course.” He sounded like James Earl Jones. “Luke, I am your father,” echoed in her head.

He didn’t ask for a cover. In her old life, the waiving of the cover would have been because she was a scantily dressed, hot girl. Now she was uncertain if it was that reason or her blindness. Hell, maybe it was both.

He placed her hand under his thick bicep and led her into the bar.

She folded her cane, felt for the seat, and sat, placing her belongings on the counter. She thanked the bouncer as he left.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” the bartender asked.

“Red wine, a blend, preferably,” Tori replied.

“Coming right up.”

She touched the dots on her watch. Eight fifty. Ten minutes till he’d arrive, and God knew he’d be on schedule. She’d allowed herself extra time in case she got disoriented. He’d be shocked she arrived before him. Her heart pounded in anticipation of being with Scott again, and she regretted not ordering something stronger to ease the pressure building in her temples.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender set the glass in front of her.

She slid her fingertips along the marble counter.

“A little to your right,” the bartender said kindly.

“Thank you.” Her fingers finally met the stem. Her shaky hand lifted the glass to her glossy lips. Stop being so nervous. This is Scott.

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