“What do you think?” Greer asked, dropping down in the airplane seat next to Dallas.
“There’s been a lot. What specifically?”
Greer leaned into Dallas with a giant grin, puckering for a kiss. “The plane,” Greer said, and kissed him again before settling back into his seat.
A guy named Ryan, who’d owned C.A.R.E., took the seat across from them.
The bits and pieces Dallas had overheard about the small, intimate private plane, hadn’t made a lot of sense. He was new to the world of trying to save the planet.
“Ryan, have I introduced you to my boyfriend?” Greer asked as the plane accelerated down the runway.
Ryan chuckled, grinning at Dallas. “Several times.”
“Just making sure,” Greer teased, intertwining their fingers. “This plane has been a project a long time in the making. It uses synthetic fuel. Emitting zero carbon. It’s a prototype. Not the inaugural flight. I missed that one, but still very new.”
“I’m just catching a ride,” Ryan explained, and as if on cue, the plane lifted into the air. “And to see this plane that’s going to change the aviation industry.”
Dallas had only flown twice in his life and nothing this small or intimate. There were eight seats—two groupings of four seats. There were two other passengers in the seats directly behind theirs.
With a squeeze of the hand, Greer drew Dallas’s attention to him. “I have to take care of some business. Are you good here?”
“I am.” He nodded. Hopefully, he could even get some shuteye.
“Ryan, have you met my boyfriend?” Greer said cheekily, unbuckling his seat belt. “He’s had me on a run. As a therapist, you might counsel him on the importance of staying with me.”
“That might be pushing my ability to influence,” Ryan said, teasingly.
Greer gave a hearty laugh as he used the armrest to lean toward Dallas again, regaining all of his attention…again. “You sure you’re good?”
“Stop. Do what you need to do.” The gleam in Greer’s eyes should have been the first clue something outrageous was coming.
“Mile high club?” Greer whispered, his brows waggling in excitement at the absurd idea.
“Of course, not,” Dallas countered.
Greer stayed close but turned toward Ryan. “The blush gets me every time.”
“Go,” Dallas said, knocking his arm off the armrest.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.” Greer winked, a sensual grin slipping over his lips. He kissed Dallas before he flipped around to the seat behind them.
“He’s a force,” Ryan said quietly, his grin as big as Greer’s.
“I have that playing in a loop inside my head.” Dallas tapped his temple.
“I bet.” Ryan gave a commiserating nod. “How did you two meet? He’s investing in your company, right?” Ryan crossed one leg over the other. “Greer sent me one of your boxes. I haven’t started yet but plan to.”
“He did?” Dallas asked, surprised.
“Yeah, last week.” Ryan smiled. Dallas’s confusion must have shown on his face. “My guess is he’s sent them to many, many people. He’s great at creating a buzz. I was on the brink of bankruptcy when I met him. I wanted an environmental company that operated as a for-profit business. I was selling recycled necklaces. It started off great, but hard to expand. Greer found me and changed everything. He gave me cash, but also guidance. I was wise enough to follow his suggestions.”
“I think we feel the same way,” Dallas said about him and his brothers, omitting the horrible, last week from hell.
Ryan looked at him closely. Silence held for several long moments.
“So why did he ask me to fly home with you?” Ryan lowered his voice, looking Dallas directly in the eyes. “I can usually tell, but I’m not sure with you.”
Ryan’s gaze slid over Dallas’s face until it dropped to his chest. He scanned Dallas’s arms then his bare legs.
“What do you usually know?” he asked just as quietly, not sure why he didn’t feel set up by Greer. He liked Ryan. They had worked together for most of the morning. Once you’d sweated together on a beach in South America, you had some new type of bond.
“Conversion therapy.” Ryan’s voice lowered to almost a whisper, barely able to be heard. Ryan leaned forward in his seat, his tone a little above a whisper. “I spent two summers in a conversion therapy camp when I was fifteen then again at sixteen. Once I got out of my father’s hold, I spent years in counseling to overcome the shame. I attempted suicide twice before channeling my energy into education. I’m a clinical psychologist.”
“How old are you?” Maybe Dallas had misread Ryan. He looked young and professional with no hints of the baggage something like that might cause.
“I’m thirty. I poured myself into my education and conservation work. I filled my voids with an insane workload.”
Dallas nodded his understanding. Had he had access to money, he’d probably have gone on with his education. Instead, he had turned his energies into working out. He exercised an insane amount of time. He had suspected it was to keep his plate full. Too full to consider much else.