Trusting the Rock star: A Forced Proximity, Rock Star Romance (Small Town Desires Book 1) by Missy Walker

Author:Missy Walker [Walker, Missy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-31T18:30:00+00:00

Houses appeared like Lego pieces and pools like blue boxes on a Pantone color chart from seven thousand feet.

“How are you feeling?” Kit’s soothing voice echoed through the headphones.

“Okay, actually.” I felt less nauseous than usual in the sky. Perhaps the luxury Sikorsky S-76 helicopter abated the nerves, or the fact Kit had reassured me it was one of the safest helicopters in the sky.

His hand never left my thigh the entire twenty-minute helicopter ride. The protective touch of his skin on mine gave me X-rated ideas that definitely kept my focus off throwing up. Maybe that was it. This was nothing like the last time I was in the air.

“What is it, red?” Kit asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?”

“The last time I flew.”

“And?”

“And, I was with my ex and threw up all over him. Those little sick bags were MIA, so he was the next best option.”

Kit dissolved in laughter. “You wicked, wicked woman!”

“Well, considering what he did to me, I think he got off pretty scot-free.”

“Were you in love with him?”

His question threw me. I blinked, unsure how to answer or what the truth was. “I thought I was, but no. I just think I wanted someone so badly that I changed for them. So that’s not love, is it?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

I nodded. “True.”

“But why should you have to change for someone? For me, that doesn’t sound like love. Love is where someone accepts you. Warts and all.”

“Warts!” I elbowed him.

“Yep, warts and all!” He laughed, his boyish grin returning. “Look down there. See that place?”

I followed to where he was pointing. Rows of houses and jetties stretched into the Pacific Ocean below us.

“That one with the white roof.”

The place looked enormous, even from up here. “Wow,” I whispered.

I had to admit. I was pretty lucky to be in a helicopter with this man. Not the rock star but the man, Kit Jones.

My focus remained firmly on the horizon as the chopper came to land. Kit squeezed my hand and asked me to breathe deeply with him. With those two techniques, we’d hit the ground before I’d even realized. And nausea, well, that was a thing of the past, but now, I was famished. I’d realized in my rush to get ready, I had skipped breakfast.

“Here you are, Mr. Jones.”

The man on the tarmac handed him keys. No. wait. Was that his?

“It’s just a rental.” He winked as I eyed up the white Lamborghini on the tarmac. “But I have quite a collection back in the States.” He grinned, and a boyish charm flared in his eyes, flipping my stomach into two.

“Kit, can you drive this thing?”

“I own this thing.” I loved seeing him so relaxed. “Let me show you.”

He opened the door for me, except it lifted instead of out. It was like the goddamn Batmobile.

Inside, the red leather seats were softer than cashmere, and round dials with red arrows on the dash resembled the inside of a race car instead of a luxury street car.

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