Page 3 of Passions & Peonies

I stand up and move into the middle aisle to let her out. I tower over her. The top of her head barely reaches my chin. For someone with such a strong personality, I thought she’d be taller.

“Don’t miss me while I’m gone.” She flashes me a smile that’s brighter than the sun reflecting off the ocean, then walks down the aisle.

I slide back into my seat but lean over the armrest to watch her walk away. I try not to laugh when a strap from her backpack catches on the corner of a seat and yanks her backward. I’m not sure how that happened.

She chuckles, says something to the person who’s in the seat, then continues to the bathroom. Turbulence shakes the plane suddenly, and she bangs into the bathroom door. I sit up to see if she’s all right. She shakes her head and hurries inside.

Who is this girl?

“This is your captain speaking. We will be flying through a patch of rough turbulence during the next twenty to thirty minutes. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. During this time, please do not use the bathrooms. I will let you know once we’re in the clear.”

I fasten my seatbelt and look for her. An attendant knocks vigorously on the bathroom door where she is. Other attendants rush through the aisle, taking away any beverages or garbage. The plane shakes again. A couple of passengers yelp. I look toward the back of the plane and realize the attendants are buckling up too. That’s when you know it’ll be bad.

Turbulence doesn’t scare me. I’ve flown so many times up and down the East Coast. There’s always some kind of turbulence. I don’t get motion sickness either.

Here she comes.She rushes down the aisle toward our row, holding onto the seats as she passes. Her face is flushed, and she’s out of breath. Her new outfit consists of frayed jean shorts and a tight light-pink tank top that emphasizes her chest. It also matches the color of her lips. An attendant demands she sit down immediately.

“I’ve never changed clothes so fast in such a cramped space. What a fiasco! I’ll probably have bruises tomorrow.”

I don’t have time to enjoy the view or even to get up, because, just as she tosses her backpack across me to her seat, she loses her balance and falls on top of me.

“Ooph. I’m so sorry.” Other passengers laugh. “Well, maybe not.” Her voice trails off.

Her face is a few inches away, and her enticing lips are dangerously close. I can feel her pounding heart as if it’s introducing itself to mine. I wrap my arms around her narrow waist like they’re her seatbelt. It feels like I’ve held her before. This comfort level, this instant connection, is bizarre, but I don’t try to fight it. She doesn’t try to move either, and I’m sure we look ridiculous with her legs stretched out into the aisle.

It’s not her mouth that smiles, it’s her eyes. The color draws me in. They’re light yellow around the pupil, then turn into a pale green, and then gradually to a bluish green. They’re amazing… and probably even more beautiful in the sunlight.

“In the arms of a gorgeous guy and on vacation. What else could a girl want? I’m glad I’m sucking on a mint.”Suckingis not the word I want to hear when she’s on top of me. “I’d offer you one, but the few I had left are up there on the bathroom floor. Damn turbulence.” She babbles nervously. I think I’m getting to her too.

“Are you always this talka—? What’s your name anyway?” Damn, I can’t stop looking at her mouth. Can she see my eyes through the dark lenses?

“Are you always so mellow, Mr. Ray-Ban?”

Mellow?She should hear what’s going on in my head. She traces her finger along my jaw.Definitely not mellow.

“I asked you a question first.”

Her eyes narrow.

“Lacey Devlin and yep.” She grins and tickles my side with one hand. The attendant yells at her again to sit down, so I let her go.

It’s better that she’s in her seat. All that wiggling didn’t help what was happening in my jeans. I hope she didn’t feel it.

Sniff. Sniff.What happened to her perfume?

“If you smell disinfectant, it’s me. I don’t leave home without it. Especially when I fly. Want some?” She opens the front pocket of her backpack and pulls out a bottle.

I straighten in my seat and laugh. “Maybe later.” If she’s this entertaining in a plane, I can’t imagine her on a normal day.

Once she’s secured in her seat again, she shivers. “I wonder if I can get a blanket. I didn’t think to bring another sweatshirt. I didn’t bring a real coat—I went straight from the taxi to the train to the airport. But I guess it was stupid to only have a tank top and shorts in my backpack.”

“I don’t think you’re going to get anything until the turbulence is over.” Before I can talk myself out of it, I unzip my sweatshirt and take it off. “Here, put this on. You need it more than I do.”

“Oh my gosh. You are so damn sweet. Are you sure? I’ll give it back when I warm up.”

“Sure. It’s better than that Yankee one you were wearing.” I smirk. “You don’t look like a girl who wants to start a fight.”

“I can’t help it if I like both teams. I live in New York City, and my father lives in Boston.”

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