Jennifer had been in a quiet mood, and Jonathan had worried at its meaning. He watched her, trying to get a glimpse inside that brilliant mind of hers. He was struck, not for the first time, just how much they still had to learn about each other. She might have been tired or perhaps worried about something or—as the dreadful pit in his stomach warned—starting to regret her decision to tie herself to him despite their limited time together.
When she asked him about the plane and listened and asked questions so engagingly, however, he perked up. The pit of worry dissipated to barely a tingle, and that he could ignore just fine. Jonathan was pleased to see her in a mood he better recognized. He hoped to keep it going.
"Have you ever been inside the cockpit of a plane?" he asked.
She raised her brow and pursed her lips, her big eyes flashing mischievously. "Is that a euphemism?" she teased.
Jonathan chuckled at her charming wit. "It wasn't intended to as such, but it could be."
Jennifer smirked. "Let's try the first and see how we feel about the second," she responded.
They got out of their seats and Jonathan led Jennifer up to the front of the plane. He put in the code for the cockpit—a post-9/11 security measure he had made standard on all aircrafts his company manufactured—and poked his head inside. "Hey Ryan, mind if I trade with you? Feel free to get a little shut eye in the back," he offered.
"Oh f'sho, Mr. Hart," the young pilot answered. He flicked the autopilot switch so he could get up and move past Jonathan and Jennifer and go relax in the back for a while.
Jonathan smiled. Ryan was a good kid. He'd just gotten his commercial pilot's license when Jonathan met him at a bar in New Jersey. Jonathan had listened with amusement while this half-drunk twenty-something told the bartender with great enthusiasm how Tony Soprano should have been a pilot and why the mob needed planes. Jonathan interjected to ask if, in this version of The Sopranos, Paulie might have a fear of flying. Ryan and Jonathan got on like a house on fire from that moment on.
It took a moment to get Jennifer settled into the copilot's seat. Jonathan made sure she was properly buckled in and everything.
"Safety first," he murmured to her, sneaking in a sensual kiss to the side of her neck.
Jennifer let out that throaty, sexy laugh he loved so much. "I thought we were going to euphemism up here. Why are you strapping me in?"
"Maybe that's part of it," he answered, dangling that tantalizing possibility in front of her.
"I'll be honest, darling, I'd rather we be in the comfort of a bedroom if we get into any of that. I'm over thirty. My body doesn't recover like it used to."
Jonathan had been trying to flirt and make her blush, and sure enough, she'd gotten him back at his own game. Now he was the one fumbling with the seatbelt as he sat down in the pilot's seat.
"Alright, teach me how to fly your magic plane," Jennifer requested, still a note of humor in her voice.
She could tease all she wanted. He was never going to give up the opportunity to show off his flying skills. It wasn't something he talked about much nowadays, but he was immensely proud of his time in the United States Navy as a Top Gun fighter pilot. Maverick never had anything on Valentine.
But with Max in the back and Ryan trying to rest, Jonathan wasn't going to do anything too fancy. He'd save that for a short haul trip with just Jennifer one of these days. For now, he just showed Jennifer all the different dials and readings and how the digital screen worked for the navigation and stabilization technology that his company had so expertly developed.
"And that's all there is to it," he concluded.
Jennifer huffed slightly. "Darling, you could have been speaking Arabic for all I understood of that."
"Isn't the phrase 'it's all Greek to me'?" he quipped.
"Well, yes, but I do speak Greek. I don't speak Arabic. Well, a couple words, but nothing really useful."
Jonathan's eyes widened. "How many languages do you speak?" he asked.
Jennifer started listing them out on her fingers. "English, obviously, and Spanish. French, Greek, Italian…I don't really count Arabic or Mandarin because, like I said, it's just a few words. I guess Russian goes in that category, too. So five fluently and another three or four where I might be able to get by if I needed to."
There was nothing Jonathan could do but just shake his head. "I hope I didn't bite off more than I can chew with you, darling."
That naughty glint sparked in her eyes again. "Well, you've got a very talented mouth. I'm sure you'll manage."
The idea had merit. "Why don't we give it a try?"
Jonathan gave a quick check to the readouts to be sure they were on course and not likely to encounter anything unexpected. He switched on autopilot and got out of his chair, turning Jennifer's to face outward. Jonathan got down on his knees and peeled unfastened her jeans to peel them off her legs. Jennifer was still properly buckled in the whole time he went down on her.