Faithfully

“Were you in the Navy Seals or Special Forces by any chance?” I asked pitifully. “I don’t believe for a second that you were just a pilot.”

“Something like that,” he kissed my forehead and dragged me along. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

Come to find out, James isn’t just a King of Northern Ireland, he’s also one of the carefully selected from the Air Corps of Ireland, member of the United States’ very own Special Ops team, they handle foreign affairs. He joined it before he was crowned King, now that he is King, it helps him get in better with other countries because everyone knows that Kings are low down dirty bastards, or that’s what James described it as. My husband not only had citizenship in Ireland, but he had a work visa in America, because he’s one of the best chopper pilots there is. He’s kind of like Murdock off of the A-Team, only a lot hotter and lot less crazy.

I was pissed, so pissed off I didn’t talk to him the whole ride to the airport, not even to ask if I could sit on the floor of the mail truck we jumped into to get there. I tripped jumping out and didn’t even thank him for saving me before I busted my face. “Damn heels,” I mumbled slipping past security, right behind James. It was fairly easy to get to our plane. I sat down in the back row of the plane, glaring at James as he jogged to the cockpit. I was steaming in my seat, going over everything he told me until I heard a gunshot from up front and I panicked. I ran up there, without even thinking and pushed open the door. “James?”

“Honey, never run towards a gunshot, you’ll get hurt,” James scolded me, dragging a body from the pilots seat of the plane. “Now come sit down.”

“What happened to the pilot?” I asked stepping over the body with a grimace.

“He killed our real pilot,” James answered putting on the pilot’s headset. “Then I killed him.”

“Oh this is hard to handle with you being so nonchalant about it,” I sat down in the copilot’s seat. “Shit…”

“As soon as we get home,” James was flipping switches left and right. I didn’t know how he knew what switch was what. “Everything will be okay. As soon as they get over Ireland air space, if they follow, we can blow them out of the sky.”

“When we get home, we have some serious talking to do,” I assured him, buckling up.

“Yes Grace,” he turned to look at me. “We have a lot to talk about.”

We flew home with little trouble, and silently at that. When we landed, we landed at the Air Corps tarmac, I was terrified we’d get shot but James calmed me down and held my hand as we walked across the tarmac to the garage going into the overhang. A gray haired man in a suit met us with a shit load of guys behind him beside a black car. “Beast, what did you do now?” the man asked.

“Deal went sour, Max,” James grumbled and then looked at me. “Max meet my wife Grace, Grace this is Corporal Max Meyer, he’s over the Irish Special Ops here.”

“Hi,” I waved awkwardly. James gave me a wink and we followed Max in the car. Max took us to a building with no name and into an interrogation room and questioned every little detail, at least five different times and then made us explain it in our own words.