Page 61 of Crude Heir

“Thank you, Captain.” I give him the most genuine smile I can muster.

“Let’s get you all on board.” He reaches for the bag on Derrick’s shoulder then the one in the SUV. “I’ll take these.”

“Thank you, Frank.” Derrick grabs the bags we picked up curbside at the tech store then presses the button to close the rear door on the SUV.

Meanwhile, Captain Frank turns on a heel and leads the way toward the big shiny jet that stands out against what’s left of the dreary sunlight.

We follow at a slower pace while Derrick keeps our hands clasped together.

“You seem to be doing better,” Derrick says, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Well, I don’t want him to think I don’t have faith in his flying skills,” I admit, eliciting a chuckle.

Once Captain Frank reaches the stairs to the jet, he turns and sees us farther back. He focuses on me hobbling along. “Y’all all right?”

“Yes,” Derrick replies. “We’re right behind you.”

“Sorry.” I try my best to pick up the pace. “I twisted my ankle earlier.”

“Don’t hurry, ma’am.” He sets the bags down on the tarmac, with a determined expression. “Need some help?”

“No,” Derrick answers immediately.

I tighten my grip on the umbrella I brought, just in case. “Thank you, but I have been carried around enough for one day.”

Captain Frank turns to Derrick, sharing a pleased expression and a quick nod. Picking up the bag, he goes up the stairs effortlessly. Just as I reach the first step, he’s back at the door.

“Hold onto the rail as you come up,” he says, looking at me as I put my hand through the umbrella strap and let it dangle. “I’ll be here…” He looks past me to Derrick. “In case you need a hand.”

I glance over my shoulder at Derrick. The look he and Captain Frank exchange seems to telegraph something. Though I’m not sure I understand what I missed.

Besides a twinge or two, I make it without much of a problem. The captain disappears toward the back with our bags.

The exterior of the jet is nothing compared to the cabin. Plush leather seats, polished wood panels, a table with wraparound seating, and several monitors mounted on the walls. This is more like a high-end lounge than my image of an airplane.

I’m still in awe when Derrick’s palm lands on my waist. “Come on, baby, head to the table.”

Baby.Two simple syllables. Yet the way that my tummy flip-flopped at them, you think he’d handed me the world.

He ushers me over to the table and has me scoot in, a big smile on my face. “Are you good with having the screen open?”

I glance at the window. “Y-yes, I suppose so.” Although the thought of looking down at how high we are above the ground makes me a little nauseous.

Captain Frank comes through. “This is a last-minute trip so I’m afraid I don’t have a meal on board.”

“No problem at all,” Derrick assures him.

“However, we do have sandwich fixings in the fridge and some snacks, in case you’re hungry.”

“Danish ham.” Derrick grins, as if it’s a given.

“Always on every flight,” he confirms.

“I think we’ll be good.” Derrick slides in beside me, putting his laptop bag and the shopping bag next to him on the seat.

“OK, you’ll know the drill.” He glances from Derrick to me and back. “Safety belt, vest under the seat, and the cup that comes out of the overhead if you need it.”

“I’ll make sure she’s buckled in and ready,” Derek says, turning toward me.

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