Providence

Jared shrugged. “Al right, I guess. For me.”

“Did you get more than an hour?”

“No, not real y.”

“You didn’t sleep at al , did you?” I grimaced.

“I had a lot to think about,” he justified.

When he noted my expression, he leaned down to kiss the top of my head and hugged me to him. “There are a lot of things for me to think about right now.”

“Like what?”

“How about you get in the shower, and I’l get us breakfast. Waffles sound good?

“Waffles sound great. Don’t change the subject.”

He chuckled. “I don’t want to start out the morning rehashing the chaos. Let’s just have a normal morning, okay? You have a test in a couple of hours and I’m just about ready for Little Corn. Once we get those out of the way, we can talk the whole thing to death to your heart’s content.”

I ignored his dig. “Little Corn. Mmmmm. Hammocks, sun, beach, ocean…that sounds even better than waffles.”

I left the bed, pul ing off his shirt on the way to the bathroom. I tossed the crumpled fabric into the hamper as I passed. Jared’s footsteps stopped abruptly and I smiled as I heard him continue down the stairs with a loud, flustered sigh.

The next days passed quickly. Before I knew it, the tests were over, the papers were turned in, and school had been dismissed for Spring Break. I spent Friday night with Jared, but even in his warm arms I was too excited to sleep. Saturday was spent packing, and I teased Jared with the dozens of bikinis I’d purchased for the trip.

Sunday final y arrived. I could barely contain my enthusiasm when I stepped out onto the tarmac. Cynthia had chartered a jet for our trip, as my father had always done. I had never understood before, but seeing the crates being wheeled in and loaded, I knew that flying commercial y wouldn’t be possible. I tried to remember earlier vacations, scanning my mind for similar memories of Jared or Gabe directing traffic and giving orders as I boarded the plane. There was none. My only memories were of the smiling faces of our flight attendants as I was led into the fuselage by the large hand of my father.

I fol owed Cynthia up the stairs and tried not to stare at Jared as he handed our luggage to a man wearing a blue jumpsuit. I wasn’t sure how many people worked in the background when we left the country, but it seemed to be a ful blown tactical operation. Even knowing the truth, the activity around the plane seemed like needless fuss.

Jared was al business. He seemed at ease giving orders and organizing the details of our flight, arrival and return. The men loading the plane worked fervently on each of his specific instructions, seeming to be afraid to make a mistake. When Jared spoke to one or a few, they listened with nervous obedience. He exuded control and leadership, and my heart raced in my chest.

Jared turned around once to look at me, and I waved. His mouth turned up into a warm smile before turning away from me with the no-nonsense expression he used with the crew.

I counted one large crate and three smal er crates. The luggage had been loaded, including an entire set belonging to Cynthia. My mother had never been one to pack light.

I tried to suppress my excitement when Jared finished and began to board the plane. He trotted up the stairs in a crisp white button down shirt and jeans and walked down the aisle, breezing right past me.

My expression compressed into a disappointed frown. Jared was going to insist on just being my protector during this trip. My first inclination was to cross my arms and pout, but I restrained myself so I wouldn’t have to listen to Cynthia lecture me on Jared’s priorities.

Jared plopped down in the empty seat beside me and fastened his seat belt. He let out an exhausted sigh and leaned over to kiss me on the forehead.

“It’s a lot more work when I’m by myself. I should have brought Bex,” he chuckled.

I stared at him for a moment, concentrating on keeping my heart rate at a normal pace and my smile polite. I didn’t want him privy to the fact that I was giddy about him being as much my boyfriend on this trip as protector.

“I’m impressed,” I smiled.

“Is that what it was? I wondered why you were so keyed up. I thought you had developed a sudden phobia of flying.”

I felt the blood rush to my face when the realization came as to why he had turned around and grinned at me from the tarmac. He could sense what I felt as I watched him.

I feigned insult. “I’ve never been afraid to fly.”

Jared’s expression turned dubious. “Impressed with what, exactly?”

I shrugged. “Just watching you give orders and how they reacted to you. I haven’t seen that side of you. It was very…appealing.”

“That’s what impresses you? Interesting,” Jared said, considering that for a moment.

“Oh, it’s more than that. You impress me al the time,” I said, scanning his face.

Jared leaned his head against the seat, staring into my eyes. He was clearly amused by the conversation. “Real y? And here I thought I needed to work harder,” he smiled, leaning toward me.

I leaned in for a kiss, but he took each piece of my seat belt and fastened it snuggly across my waist.

I smiled and sighed, gazing out the window at the various crew members on the run way. I could feel Jared’s warm breath on my neck; he was looking out the window over my shoulder. The exhilaration I always felt before a trip mixed with the elation of being virtual y alone with Jared for five days made it almost impossible to sit stil .

“Are you al right? Your heart is going to take off before the plane,” Jared whispered into my ear.

“I’m just happy,” I said, stil looking out the window.

The pilot came over the intercom and spoke directly to my mother, tel ing her our position in line for take-off, the expected flight time and the current weather in Nicaragua.

The plane pul ed forward and we taxied to the runway. Jared grabbed my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine. He leaned his head against the seat and watched me with his light blue-grey irises, a content grin spanning across his face. I smiled and closed my eyes as the plane suddenly gained momentum. The fuselage shuddered and then transformed into a weightless, graceful vessel the second we left the ground.

Jared informed me that from the big island, there would be a water taxi that transports guests to Little Corn, but the smal boat wouldn’t be possible with the crates of expensive surveil ance equipment. He’d contracted a larger water craft to take us over and arranged for a car to take us to Casa Iguana, where we would be staying.

“Just a head’s up, you won’t see me for several hours when we first get there. I’l be setting up a perimeter and situating the equipment. Cynthia’s reserved three cabins. She has the grand casita…”

“Of course.”

“…and you and I have deluxe casitas. They’re not bad for little cabins nestled in the side of a cliff.”

“A cliff? Where’s the beach?”

Jared smiled his patient smile. “Close. Just a two minute walk. The cliff cabins are more private. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“My guardian angel is with me. What could I possibly be worried about?” I grinned, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He smiled at my words and continued. “It wil take some time for me to get set up, so that should give you time to get unpacked and settled into your room.”

“Three cabins seem wasteful to me. Why don’t I get settled at your place while you set up?”