Flight to Paradise Ch. 12

"Yes she did," Charlie answers. "I told her what I was preparing, and she said to serve the two wines you had with no hesitation or second thoughts."

Mac begins to chuckle as Giselle's face turns an even brighter red. "Why does that embarrass you? They were great choices. What was the dessert wine, if you don't mind telling me."

"It was a Vin Santo," Giselle says, looking up, her embarrassment fading. "I think it was Montellori, wasn't it?" she asks, looking at Todd and Charlie.

Todd holds up his hands and shakes his head in a don't ask me gesture.

"That sounds right," Charlie says. "I don't remember exactly. I don't have to. I have you."

"I think that's what it was," Giselle says warming to her topic. "It's made from raisins as all Vin Santo's are. It produces a very intense, very sweet wine. The Montellori has a nice nutty finish that I really like. Vin Santo's are really excellent when... what are you snickering at?" Giselle asks Rick.

"Nothing! Nothing at all," Rick says with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender.

Mac looks at Kate, and grins, liking Rick and Giselle already.

Three hours later, as Mac squeezes into Kate's SUV, he counts Rick and Giselle among his friends. They had discussed some business, and he had reiterated his offer for a stake in Immersion Playground, but by the time the meal was over he had to admit there was little he could offer them, though they agreed they would call upon him for advice occasionally as business dictates. The remainder of the meal was spent laughing and talking, Rick and Giselle getting to know Mac and Kate, and vice-versa.

"I really like Rick and Giselle," he says as she starts her car.

"I do too. I met them once before, but this is the first time I have really had a chance to talk to them." She pauses a moment and then continues. "I knew from the immersion how in love they are, but you can tell just by watching them they're hopelessly in love. Did you notice that?"

"I did," Mac says quietly, wondering if he'll ever feel like that.

"I didn't think anyone can be as in love as Todd and Charlie, but I think Rick and Giselle are even more so. I wonder what it feels like to be like that? Have you ever been in love?"

"Once, a long time ago, but nothing came of it," he says, not wanting to drag up old memories. "You?"

"I was married once. But even then, I wasn't like Charlie or Giselle. You can just see it in their eyes, in the way they move. Did you notice that Rick was always touching Giselle? Every time I looked at him, his hand was on her arm or on her hand. I thought that was sweet."

"No, I missed that. I only had eyes for one woman there."

"You better not let Rick catch you making eyes with Giselle. You're a lot bigger than he is, but I think he'd fight to the death for her," she teases.

He snorts, not even dignifying her teasing with a response, resulting in a long awkward silence. "What did you think of the food?" he finally asks to break the growing silence.

"It was fantastic. I am definitely going back there. What did you think?"

"I thought it was excellent too. It's too bad he's so far from home. I'd like to eat there again."

"I noticed that you and Giselle talked a lot about wine. Did you learn anything?" she asks as she engages autocruise, letting the car the drive itself so she can watch Mac. He seems a little subdued tonight.

"I did, but I don't think I'll remember most of it. The only thing I know for sure is that I am going to have to find some of that Vin Sanbose wine."

"I thought she called it Vin Santo."

He snaps his fingers and points at Kate. "Vin Santo, yeah, that's it."

She giggles. "I think you need a little more practice. With wine anyway."

Mac and Kate stop by a wine shop on the way home and purchase two bottles of Vin Santo wine, one to open tonight and one to take with them to Paradise. Arriving back at Kate's house they open the bottle and, after allowing it to breath as Giselle had instructed, they sit and cuddle on the couch, Kate curled up in his arms, sipping the wine and talking about the things they're going to do for the next three weeks.

She finds it odd that, while she's planning on doing plenty of fucking, that's no longer the primary reason for the trip. As she sips her wine she tries to remember if that's ever happened before, a trip out of town with a man she desires, when their activities in the bedroom are secondary to their activities outside the bedroom.

After an hour the wine is consumed and she's feeling warm, relaxed and sleepy, the late hour of the night before wearing on her.

"Will you take me to bed and just hold me?" she asks softly, not moving her head from his shoulder.

"Yes, if you're ready."

Stirring, she sits up, looking deep into his eyes. "I'm ready. I think the wine is working on me. I'm cold and so sleepy I can barely hold my head up."

He rises off the couch and swoops her up in his arms, carrying her to her bedroom, smiling as he remembers this is how they started. She's stiff in his arms when he first picks her up, but she quickly relaxes, laying her head on his shoulder once more. In her bedroom he stands her on her feet and turns back the bed before slowing undressing her and tucking her in. She's still awake when he joins her beneath the linens, but just, and he finds he doesn't mind at all. After a gentle kiss of her lips, he settles next to her, pulling her in close, finding that just holding her, feeling her body next to his, is enough to fill him with a deep sense of contentment and peace. He lies still, sleep pulling at him as well, listening to her deep steady breathing.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Katherine Thompson," he whispers, knowing she won't hear. Smiling that he's finally given voice to what he's feeling, he slowly coasts into sleep.

"Put your hands on the wheel," he commands as he begins to taxi. "Today, you're helping me take off."

"I don't know, Mac," she says, slightly nervous.

"It'll be fine," he reassures her. "Just don't fight the wheel, let me do the work. But the best way to learn something is to do it. So today, you're going to do it."

She places her hands lightly on the wheel as he drives the plane to the end of the runway. As he kicks the left rudder pedal, toeing the brake to swing the plane around he reaches for the throttles, shoving them fully forward the moment the plane squares up on the runway.

She feels the familiar surge of acceleration as the roaring engines propel the plane down the runway, the plane accelerating much faster than in the water.

"Approaching rotation," he says, letting her know the plane is almost at take-off velocity.

She hasn't heard him use that term before, but it feels like the plane wants to fly, so that must be what he means.

"Rotating," he calls, pulling gently back on the wheel, allowing the plane to lift into the air.

She reaches for the landing gear lever, pulling it back. "Gear up... and locked," she says when the instrument panel confirms the landing gear is fully stowed.

"Let's start easing the flaps up," he says.

"Me?" she asks, having never adjusted the flaps before.

"Please. Up twenty-five percent please."

She reaches up and pushes the levers forward to the first stop, about one-quarter of the way to their fully up position.

"Thank you," he says, feeling the plane getting its legs. "Up another twenty-five percent please."

Kate moves the levers forward another notch, the vibrations caused by the flaps decreasing as the drag falls away.

"Okay, flaps up," he says one more time, smiling as she moves the levers fully forward. He's flown a lot of his past lovers, but not one of them would he trust to touch the controls of his plane. But Kate... she's fearless, moving with an easy assurance that that makes him smile, not to mention he only has to show her something once and she's got it. Or in the case of the flaps, just by observing what he does. He throttles back, allowing the plane to settle into the cruise, getting the plane properly trimmed for flying. During the entire takeoff and climb to altitude she never releases the wheel, always keeping at least one hand on the yoke the entire time as she did as he asked.

"Kate, I need to tell you something," he says as they level off and begin the long flight to Paradise.

"What's that?" she responds, looking at him.

"Watching you just now, working the aircraft, you are by far the sexist woman alive. I just thought you needed to know that," he says with a grin, and he means every word of it.

Her face breaks into a huge smile at his words. She wouldn't admit it to him, but right now, having participated in the takeoff, she feels like the sexist woman alive. "It's the sunglasses, right?" she asks, teasing him.

He laughs, as happy at this moment as he has been in years. "The sunglasses, and the woman wearing them."

She feels like her face will split with her smile. "You know, you're not so bad yourself," she says. Now that she has a smidge of knowledge about what goes into flying a plane, she'll never look at a pilot the same way again, and when the pilot looks like Mac, well, that's enough to make any girl's panties wet.

He grins, feeling so very lucky to have met her. He's going to have to thank Charlie for introducing her to him. "You have the aircraft," he says releasing the wheel.

"I have the aircraft," she confirms. Goddamn! I'm a fucking pilot!

As the plane touches down in the water, Kate is surprised she can't feel the vibrations in the wheel, then frowns in annoyance. Of course I can't, none of the control surfaces are in the water. I know that, so why did I think I would feel it in the wheel. Shaking off her annoyance, she reaches up and pushes the flap levers fully forward, like she's seen him do, as the plane settles fully into the water.

He starts to reach for the flap levers when he sees her pushing them forward to the retract position, and smiles. She's going to be flying this bucket by herself before long, the thought making him chuckle.

"What?" she asks as the sound of his chuckle comes from her headphones.

"I think you're trying to take my job," he says with a grin.

She gets flash of heat, afraid she has done something wrong, or upset him, by overstepping her bounds. "Did I mess up?" she asks tentatively.

"No. You did everything just right. That's why I said you're trying to take my job. One day I'm going to look out the window and see the Beauty taking off without me."

She giggles, relieved he isn't upset. "I think I have a ways to go before you have to worry about that. Gear down... and locked."

He shakes his head and chuckles again. Not as long as she thinks.

After post-flighting the plane and securing it in the hanger, he loads the tug with her luggage and begins the short drive to the house.

"What's this?" she asks as a ping arrives from Mac.

"It's the code to the house."

"The code..." she says, struck by what this means, her eyes instantly filling with tears. "Oh Mac, are you sure?" she asks, furtively wiping her eyes.

He pretends not to see her wipe her eyes. "Yes. You're the first person I've given it to, but I want you to have it."

"Why?" she asks, touched by the gesture.

"Because I want you to feel welcome here," he says, looking at her, stopping the tug at the garage door. "Please open the door to make sure it works."

She sends the request to the house over the coded link and the door smoothly opens. "It works," she says, still holding tight to her emotions.

Normally the door into the house proper will unlock at his presence, but he's blocked that for the moment. "Now the entry door please," he says as he unloads the tug. She walks up the flight of stairs and opens the door. He turns so she can't see his smile as he re-enables his lock sequence and finishes lifting their bags from the tug.

She slowly comes down the steps and kisses him gently on the lips, her hands on the side of his face. "Thank you," she says, not trusting herself to say more as she picks up a pair of small bags and follows him into the house.

He hefts the two largest bags, leaving her with his small hanging bag and the smallest of her three suitcases. As he muscles her bags down the hall, he turns into her room while she proceeds past him into his own room. He assumes she's dropping his bag and will return to her room with her bag, but she appears empty handed.

"Is the offer of putting my stuff in your room still open?" she asks, her voice tentative.

He smiles, but says nothing, heaving her bags off the guest bed and carrying them into his room before tossing them on his bed.

"Closet on the left," he says as he moves to pick up his own bag.

She unzips her bag, pulling her undergarments out, but realizes there is no chest in his room, only a single dresser and two small side chests, one on each side of the bed.

He sees her confusion. "Left side chest is yours," he says, pointing to the small chest beside the bed. "There's a regular chest built into your closet. The left three drawers of the dresser are empty as well."

"Did, uh, someone use this space before?" she asks, unsure of why he has so much extra space. Her dresser and chest at home are full, as well as her closet and the closet in the other bedroom.

"No," he says. "I just have more space than I need." Emilia had a left a few things at his house when they were together, but only a few. He'd never felt close enough to her to invite her to use more.

"I don't want to take all your space," she says, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I'll just use the empty closet and maybe this side table."

"As you wish," he says stepping out of his closet and shutting the door. "But the dresser drawers will remain empty because I don't use them."

She hesitates a moment longer, chewing on her bottom lip, until she decides what the hell, and begins placing her items in the dresser. She'll be gathering it all back up to take home with her in three weeks anyway.

They're in the kitchen preparing dinner, Mac standing close behind Kate with his hands on hers. He's showing her the proper way to use a knife to chop vegetables, rocking the blade on its curve while slowly sliding the stalks of celery forward after each downward motion. She's trying to focus, but his sure strong hands and the light press of his body are proving to be a powerful distraction. As she slowly chops, minding her fingers, the house announces that Cynthia McMillan and Bertrand McMillan are at the front door over the link. Kate is momentarily confused as to why the house would say Mac is at the front door when he's clearly standing here in the kitchen, but as he stiffens, she remembers that his father's name is also Bertrand. So that means Cynthia must be his mother or his sister, if he has a sister.

"What the hell," he says releasing her hands and stepping away. "What are they doing here?" he asks, striding out of the kitchen to the front door.

She wipes her hands on a towel and follows him to the front door, standing at the end of the entrance hall between the kitchen and the den.

"Mom! Dad! Come in. What are you doing here?" he asks, his surprise clear in his voice.

"We're on our way to Hawaii for our anniversary dear. You knew that," says a tall blonde woman stretching up to kiss Mac on the cheek.

"I know, on Tuesday. But what are you doing here?"

"We left early so we could spend a couple of days with you. I told you that," Cynthia says.

"Uh... no, Mom, you didn't."

"Oh, sure I did. You've just forgotten," she says, her eyes widening slightly as she notices Kate.

"Mom, if you'd told me it would be on my calendar. We just got home from a business trip a few hours ago. You're lucky we're home," he says, noticing that his mom and dad are staring at Kate. He waves Kate over. "Kate, allow me to introduce my parents, Cynthia and Bert. Mom, Dad, Kate."

There is a brief awkward pause before Bert steps around his wife, holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Kate. I'm sorry we're intruding," he says, his voice deep and mellow.

She takes his hand. Bert is tall, almost as tall as Mac, but not so heavily built, with a close-cropped beard and salt and pepper hair. "Nice to meet you Mr. McMillan."

Bert makes a big production of looking around him, still holding her hand. "My dad's here?" he asks theatrically, before returning his gaze to her with a gentle smile, a smile very much like Mac's. "Call me Bert. Mr. McMillan is my dad," he says, releasing her hand.

She smiles, taking an immediate liking to Mac's dad.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners. I'm Cynthia," Cynthia says, stepping forward and taking Kate's hand. Cynthia is tall for a woman, almost as tall as Kate, with blonde hair going grey. Where Bert is thin, Cynthia is heavier, not fat, but with a full lush figure. Kate can see that Mac has inherited his dad's height and features, his mother's coloring and build.

"Nice to meet you Mrs. McMillan," she says, trying to hide her disappointment. She had plans for tonight, plans that probably are going to have to be put on hold.

"Nice to meet you too," Cynthia says, before turning her attention back to Mac. "Tony, I know I told you were stopping by. We'll leave Monday, going back to San Francisco for our flight, but..."

"It doesn't matter, you're here," Mac says with some resignation. Of all the times for my parents to stop by unannounced, why now? "Kate and I were just preparing dinner, but I wasn't expecting you so, I guess we're eating out. We'll get you settled into your motel while we're out."

"Oh," Cynthia says, her disappointment clear in her voice, though whether it is because they're eating out or the fact that Mac didn't offer to put them up in his house, Kate can only guess.

Bert takes his wife by the arm, pulling her slowly to him. "That's not so bad. We can start our anniversary celebration a little earlier than we thought," he says, causing Cynthia to blush.

Kate smiles at Mac. That's something else he must have gotten from his father, and she'll have to thank Bert later for that.

After dinner and back at home, the four sit overlooking the lake, talking. Mac and Kate are on the couch with Bert and Cynthia taking the two chairs. When she sits down, Kate intentionally puts a little distance between herself and Mac, still feeling a bit uncomfortable around his parents. He looks at her as she sits but says nothing. Over dinner Kate decided she really likes Mac's father. He has the same easy charm and quick smile that Mac does, but his mother is another matter. Though pleasant enough, there is something in Cynthia's manner that reminds her a little too much of her mother, perhaps the fact that she seemed unnaturally focused on filling Mac in on all the comings and goings in Hays, something that strikes her as a bit gossipy. Every time Bert or Mac changed the subject to another matter, Cynthia would drag it back, causing her to feel left out, though she did find out that Mac has a younger sister and a young niece and nephew.

Cynthia seems content to talk all night about family and friends in Kansas, people Kate doesn't know or care about, but Bert catches her eye and gives her a wink and a smile. "Cynthia! It's time to go," Bert says, interrupting another long rambling narrative about an impending marriage.

"What? But—" Cynthia begins.

"No buts," Bert says, standing up. "I want to take a dip in the pool at the motel before it closes."

"But—" Cynthia begins again.

"We'll see Kate and Tony again in the morning," Bert interrupts, holding his hand out to his wife, "but not too early," he says with a meaningful look at his wife.