I SIT BESIDE BASH IN THE CAB OF HIS TRUCK, STARING OUT the window, the tension between us simmering like ripples above asphalt on a hot day.

    He just kicked his own son out of his house.

    That’s enough.

    The firm way Bash’s deep voice sliced through the air had startled me. And I didn’t miss the way Clyde’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

    Tripp, though? Tripp’s expression was pure disbelief. I get the sense he isn’t ustomed to being treated like he doesn’t walk on water.

    I could kick myself for giving him the time of day at all. The version of himself he showed me then didn’t seem so… immature.

    The strife between them does nothing but cause me instant anxiety. It forces me to think back on the phone call with my mom this morning before I came downstairs. Our annual birthday call where she speaks in hushed tones like my dad might be ready to pop out of hiding and scold her for betraying his edict. We never talk about anything very profound, but I still feel a burst of excitement when I see her name pop up on my phone screen.

    On the one hand, I love hearing from my mom. On the other… It always leaves me feeling empty. Wishing for more. Dreaming of approval I know I’ll never get.

    “I’m sorry he ruined your birthday breakfast,” Bash says, pulling me from my thoughts.

    I turn my head slowly, my gazending on the man seated beside me. Heavily corded arms outstretched, big hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel at ten and two. I can tell by his white knuckles he’s squeezing the hell out of it. “He didn’t. No one could ever ruin that breakfast. It was the best.”

    And I’m not lying. Tripp feels like a minor annoyance. One that I washed down with eggs Benedict and waffles—neither of which he would approve of.

    In the close quarters of Bash’s truck, it’s a little too easy to forget about Tripp. I like this little bubble containing only Bash and me. So I resolve to leave this morning in the past where it belongs and let myself be present for whatever adventure we’re about to embark on.

    Bash’s dark eyes slide my way for a beat before focusing back on the road. “You liked it?”

    “No.” He tenses, and I smile. He’s so easy to rile up sometimes. “I loved it.”

    “What did you like the best? So I know for next time.”

    My heart does this girlish pitter-patter in my chest. Next time. God, I hope so.

    “I couldn’t choose. I loved all of it equally. Can’t go wrong. And I’m not just saying that to tter you.”

    He lets out a low grunting sound as his hands twist on the steering wheel. “Fine. I’ll just make it all again.”

    I press my lips together, biting down on my smile. This is quintessential Bash. He sounds all surly about it, but he also doesn’t bat an eye at making an absolutely ridiculous breakfast spread just because I like it. Hell, if I needed a kidney, he’d probably offer me his remaining one.

    I’ve never known a man with a heart so big. And I think that’s the thing I love about him the most.

    Love.

    My throat tightens, and I brush imaginary dust from the tops of my thighs before changing the subject. “Where are we going again?” We’ve done nothing but head straight out of town so far.

    One corner of his mouth quirks up. “I didn’t tell you.”

    “Right. But now you could.”

    “Sorry, no can do. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did.”

    I cross my arms and flop back with a dramatic pout on my lips.

    He chuckles. It’s deep, low, and feels like velvet sliding over my skin. It makes me want to crawl over the center console and sit in hisp.

    “But the good news is…” My attention flicks to him as he brakes, arms crossing over to turn the vehicle. “We’re here.”

    I turn away from him, eyes locking on the driveway we’ve just turned onto. The weathered sign to our right reads ROSE VALLEY AIRSTRIP in faded white letters. My gaze flicks back just in time to watch him press a button on one of the fobs clipped onto the sun visor.

    Now the gate opens.

    “You’re taking me to an air show?”

    He smiles. “No, Gwen. I’m taking you flying.”

    “What?” The word rushes out on a breath, excitement surging inside me.

    “I still have a ne. I had to get my hours of practice in somehow, and now I’m kind of attached to it. Can’t bring myself to sell it, even though I probably should.” He shrugs shyly. “Plus, I like tinkering with it when I have the time.”

    All I can do is stare at him, ck-jawed, shaking my head in amazement. “You’re taking my flying?” I sound incredulous, and it makes him chuckle.

    “Okay, good. I’m d you’re not freaked out.”

    “Freaked out? Are you kidding me? This is amazing! And if I die?” I wink at him. “What a way to go.”

    He volleys back with my own words: “But what if you live?”

    I just shrug, letting a suggestive smile curve my lips. “Guess I’ll have toe up with a new great way to go.”

    He rolls his eyes but fails to bite back on a knowing smirk.

    Truthfully, I couldn’t be less worried. Bash might be the most capable man on the—flying nes, building stuff, making breakfast, kissing like it’s an art form. There’s no way this man is crashing his ne.

    The truck inches to a stop beside a quiet airstrip. Sunlight glints off a massive steel hangar to my right. Just beyond it, a few smaller outbuildings huddle in its shadow.

    With a firm, “Let’s go,” Bash jumps out of the truck and rounds the hood to my side. He opens the door before I’ve even finished unbuckling and reaching for my purse.

    When he extends his hand, I catch myself staring at it for a moment. We’ve held hands before, but I’ve always initiated the contact.

    I slide my palm into his, sighing as the heat of his touch envelops me, and hop from the truck, mming the door shut behind me. I don’t let go of his hand. And he makes no move to let mine go either.

    Instead, he leads me to the small door at the corner of the hangar while I try—and fail—not to let my eyes wander down over his ass. His worn ck Levi’s, trending toward gray, hug him just right, all the way down to his signature ck boots. The shearling-lined brown corduroy jacket he’s sporting, with its creamy, plush cor folded down around his neck, is unfairly sexy.

    He walks into the hangar with utter confidence, and it’s hot as hell.

    “Greg,” he calls out to a man in the corner, raising his hand in a friendly greeting.

    “Good to see ya,” Greg replies with a nod.

    Bash keeps walking, leading me down a row of simr nes until he stops at one in the farthest corner and faces it proudly.

    It’s small, painted a crisp white with two red stripes running along the body. A shot of adrenaline hits me as I realize that I’m about to take to the skies in this glorified metal box.

    A thread of unease thrums in me, but it’s overwhelmed by a consuming sense of anticipation.

    Like he can sense my swirling emotions, Bash gives my hand a firm squeeze, and he peeks down at me. “You ready?”

    I strum my top teeth over my bottom lip and give him a firm nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let the adventure begin.”

    His eyes hold mine as he repeats the words back. “Let the adventure begin.”

    Then I stand there, drooling over him as he gets everything set up. I don’t know what he does, only that he does it with such easy confidence that it looks like second nature. Eventually, Greg strolls over and opens the hangar’s massive sliding doors, exchanging words with Bash about takeoff time and other technical things I don’t understand.

    Before I know it, Bash has pulled me up into the passenger’s seat. “You good?” he asks, leaning in close to reach over my shoulders and strap me in. His breath fans against my damp lips as he talks, and while I should probably be paying attention to what he’s saying and thinking about flying, instead I’m thinking about kissing him.

    How it felt to be kissed by him.

    He catches me staring at his mouth, his gaze dropping to mine for only a beat. “Head out of the gutter, Dawson. I’m telling you some of the emergency protocols.”

    My stomach flips. He scolds me with such endearment. I haven’t caught a single word of his spiel.

    “Sorry, concentrating is hard right now. Have you heard ofpetence porn? It’s kind of my thing. And you, Bash, are extremelypetent.”

    He shakes his head, amusement curving his lips as his hands work to restrain me securely. “Just trying to keep you safe.”

    “You will,” I say simply. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that Sebastian Rousseau would do anything to keep me safe.

    He leans back to assess me and gives my setup a businesslike once-over.

    My quarter zip sweater is fully unzipped, showing a peek of cleavage. His eyes pause there for a moment, heat ring in his dark irises.

    “Head out of the gutter, Rousseau. I’m trying to be strapped in safely here.”

    I get an eye roll as he settles in front of me and lifts an oversize headset over my head. His gaze locks on mine as he grumbles, “My head’s been in the gutter since the first time Iid eyes on you.”

    Heat curls in my gut and climbs up my spine. But he pulls away, acting all casual. Like that wasn’t an incredibly bold thing to say to me.

    I guess we’re both being forthright with each other today. Not wanting to mess with the flirty vibes, I settle back in my seat and watch raptly as he gets settled in beside me, those big calloused hands pressing buttons and flicking levers. He pulls his own headset on, and before I know it, he’s turned my way. “You ready?”

    “Hell yeah,” I say, not able to restrain my absolutely ridiculous grin.

    His gaze lingers on my face for a few beats too long, soaking me in. It makes me squirm in my seat, but then he nods—that firm, no-bullshit nod he’s always doing.

    In a matter of minutes, he’s started the engine and pulls out of the hangar onto the single runway. All that’s ahead of us is bright-green grass, dark-green pines, and a blue sky.

    The warm sun hits my face, and I let out a deep, satisfied sigh. This is fucking incredible.

    “I haven’t asked you if you’ve done this before,” Bash says through the headset as the ne rolls along. I can hear him clearly over the loud engines.

    “No, Bash. You’re my first, so be gentle with me,” I reply with a smile.

    A smile that only grows bigger when I hear him grumble “For fuck’s sake” in my ears.

    We continue down the runway for a few more moments, and then I hear a gravelly “Cleared for takeoff.”

    I peer around us like I might never see solid ground again. He’s chatting with who I assume is Greg on the channel. Our speed continues to increase until the earth falls away beneath us, and the small neunches seamlessly into the air.

    “We have liftoff.”

    Excitement fills my chest so full it might burst, and I nce out the window, watching the ground shrink. All that lies before us is wide-open sky—and what feels like endless possibilities.

    “Ah!” I squeal, breathless withughter as I p enthusiastically. “Look at you go!”

    Bashughs now, the deep sound vibrating through my headset. “Gwen, this is my job. It would be like me pping when you roll out a yoga mat. Even though when I see that ass in leggings, it makes me want to.”

    I cough out a slightly surprisedugh at the absurdparison. “If you don’t p the next time I do, I will be deeply disappointed.”

    Hisughter rumbles again as he continues our ascent, but he never loses focus as we climb higher. I watch him. His profile framed by the blue sky beyond him.

    “This is…” My eyes trace his features, just like they did that first night we met.

    Masculine. That’s what I’d thought then.

    Perfect, is all I can think now. The smattering of gray hair at his temple, the strong ridge of his nose.

    But it’s more than that. It’s him knowing me. Knowing I don’t want roses. Or diamonds. I want this.

    Adventures.

    With him.

    “This is the best birthday gift anyone has ever given me.”

    His lips roll together, like he’s covering an overly pleased expression. Then he presses a button, the headsets crackling to life before he speaks. “If anyone is on this channel, can you wish Gwen a happy birthday?” He sneaks a mischievous look at me before adding, “It’s her first time.”

    I throw my head back andugh, just as multiple birthday wishese through the headset. It’s ridiculous, it’s fun, and it’s a gift I will never forget for as long as I live.

    “You are… something else,” I murmur, giving him a soft shake of my head before letting my gaze drift out the window.

    I knew this valley was beautiful, but there’s something about the bird’s-eye view that hits me hard. The jagged mountains’ snowcapped peaks are spectacr, and the dense forest on their lower slopes makes the sheer volume of trees seem downright impossible. With theke sparkling at the heart of it all, like a jewel catching the sun, the entire valley is breathtaking.

    Rose Hill isn’t just beautiful—it’s majestic.

    “Wow,” I sigh. Because no other word seems to do this view justice. “This is beautiful.”

    “Yeah. It is,” Bash agrees.

    But when I turn back to face him, he’s not looking out the window.

    He’s looking at me.