Wright with Benefits

We were in his truck at some ungodly hour. I held my coffee mug tight to my body, promising to never forsake it. We took the turnoff for the airport, and my knee jiggled nervously. I twirled my claddagh ring around and around and around in between sips of coffee.

Jordan just smiled at me. He could tell that I was nervous, but it wasn’t about us. I actually felt pretty great about us at this point. I’d been avoiding it for so long, but now that we were dating, we fit together perfectly. Like we were always meant to do this.

It was more that I liked being in control. I’d been one of those weirdos who hated surprises and snuck in to find out what my Christmas presents were so that I didn’t have to wait. And now, I wanted to know all the secrets he held up his sleeve.

Instead of heading into the regular airport, Jordan directed me to another entrance.

“What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” he said.

I could do nothing but follow. We walked through a small security area that I’d never seen before and then directly onto the tarmac.

I froze in place.

“Jordan,” I whispered.

He smiled brilliantly, that blinding smile. “Come on, Annie.”

“What are you doing?”

“Flying you to Seattle.”

“Yourself?” I squeaked.

He laughed. “No, I’m not flying the plane, but we are taking the Wright jet.”

“We’re flying private?”

He walked back to me and put an arm around my waist. “I told you that I’d take care of it.”

“I’ve never flown private. This is…too much.”

“It’s really nothing. Jensen uses it primarily to see Colton. He wasn’t flying this weekend, so he said it was free.”

“Jordan,” I groaned again.

It was one thing to know that your boyfriend was a billionaire with a private jet. It was another thing to see it in person.

He smiled and moved me forward to the awaiting plane. A man approached and took our luggage to be stored below. Then I was climbing the stairs and into the private jet.

It was everything I’d expected and more. Plush leather seats with plenty of open room to walk around. A full-service bar with dining seating.

“There’s a bedroom in the back, too,” Jordan said as I marveled at the expensive interior.

“You’re joking.”

He laughed. “Go check it out.”

I rushed like a kid in a candy store straight to the back of the private plane. I passed the flight attendant, who chuckled as I opened a door that led into a small bedroom. It was mostly a bed, but who the fuck cared? It was a bedroom in a plane, and I was flying on it. What even?

I darted back out to the cabin and found Jordan sliding a computer out of his bag. “There’s a bedroom.”

He nodded. “There is.”

“Are you going to work?”

“I have some things to catch up on, but I don’t plan to work the whole time.”

“Oh good. There’s a bedroom,” I repeated.

He grinned. “Yes.”

I was definitely planning to join the Mile-High Club later, and was reconsidering my thoughts about surprises. Maybe Jordan could surprise me if this was his idea of a surprise.

The benefit of a bed on the plane was that after we joined the Mile-High Club, I could sleep a few extra hours. So, when we finally touched down in Seattle, I was rested. It was hard, switching my schedule around for the interview. This would help me adjust back to daytime.

A black Mercedes waited to pick us up at the airport. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but somehow, I was. I peered out the window of the car as we drove toward downtown.

It was a typical Seattle day—foggy, overcast, and rainy. So, I couldn’t see much of anything. Just hazy buildings and people walking the streets, huddled over in rain jackets.

“There aren’t that many people with umbrellas,” I mentioned.

Jordan glanced out my window. “Yeah, you get used to the rain. It’s like this in Vancouver.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

We were in his territory now. I was out of my depth, and I loved it. I just wanted to dive out into the rain and explore.

The Mercedes parked out in front of the Four Seasons. I managed to keep my jaw from dropping as we were whisked inside the hotel with soaring ceilings and marble everything. Jordan checked us in, and we took an elevator up to the very tip-top floor.

“What did you do?” I asked again as I stepped into the penthouse suite.

It was enormous. Way, way too big and too fancy for two people. It should have housed celebrities…not me.

“Jordan,” I whispered.

“You let me take you away,” he said, as if that were answer enough.

I plastered myself to the full glass windows overlooking Pike Place Market and the bay beyond. It was still cloudy, but enough light peeked through to give me an uninterrupted view of Seattle. I was already in love.