Page 4 of Passions & Peonies

The long sleeves get tangled when she slips her arms into them. “It’s so soft inside!” She sniffs the material before she zips it up. “Mmm, and it smells good too. You’re the best. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I went to Boston University with a baseball scholarship. I didn’t get a chance to make it to the big leagues. But now you know why my sweatshirt says Boston Red Sox.”

“What happened?”

“I had to choose between my family and baseball. Baseball lost. I still love to play, but it wasn’t my only passion anyway.”

At some point while I was talking, she snuggled up against me like she’s warming up in front of a fire.

On a normal day, I would never in hell let a passenger lean against me or touch me in any way—but again, she’s different. Obviously, she was just lying across my lap and I didn’t mind at all. But Lacey has an innocence about her. It’s her personality that’s tempting me. She’s so natural and easygoing.

She’ll be a nice distraction for the rest of the flight, so I won’t have to think about what I just left back in New York.

The flight gets bumpier. Things shift overhead, making me worry the compartments will burst open and suitcases will come flying out. An older woman across the aisle is mumbling something to herself and gripping the armrests. The passenger behind her is an interesting shade of green and is holding a barf bag.

When the plane dips again, Lacey’s cold hand latches onto my forearm. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she’s biting her lower lip.

“Man, your hand is freezing.” I lift up the armrest between us. “Give me your hands.” Without opening her eyes, she extends her arms toward me. I envelop both hands in mine to warm them up. They are as soft as pussy willows.

I have literally lost my mind.

“Are you scared?” I squeeze her hands gently.

She opens her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. This turbulence is the worst. I’m trying to stay calm, but that was a rough dip.Whoo.”

“Do you feel sick?”

She shakes her head, glances at our hands, then at me. One side of her mouth rises. “I haven’t had motion sickness of any kind before. I could be on a boat in the middle of a hurricane, and I’d still not get sick.”

She’s too good to be true.

Now that there’s no barrier between us, she scoots a little closer to me. “Can you talk to me so I’ll think about something else?”

“Like what?”

I twist in my seat to see her better. She does the same. Our faces are as close as before. “Like your name for starters. I feel kind of strange not knowing it when I’m wearing your sweatshirt, I’m stuck to your side, and your big, warm hands are holding mine.”

That’s a cue for me to let her hands go and to move back, but I don’t. Because I don’t want to. Her hands aren’t even that cold anymore.

“I’m Will Mayes.”

“Nice name. Now, tell me why you’re wearing sunglasses. It’s not bright in here.” She takes a sharp breath. “Please tell me you’re not a drug addict or something.”

I burst out laughing because I’ve never taken drugs. “No, I just haven’t slept in a long time. My eyes are dry.”

“Aww, come on.” She nudges my arm. “Take the sunglasses off. I already like what I see, but I’m dying to see your eyes. Show me the full picture.”

Chapter 3

Lacey

Will hesitates but takes his hands from mine, then removes his sunglasses. He hooks them on the collar of his black T-shirt. Then his free hand finds its way back to mine and captures it once more. Isn’t he full of surprises?

When our eyes lock, I’m spellbound.Wow, wow, wow.They do look tired, almost like he might have been crying, but that doesn’t make them any less stunning. They’re a bright gray green with long, thick brown eyelashes. His right eye has the most unusual golden specks in it, almost like someone placed them there to make a fashion statement. Perfect little squares that overlap as if part of a confetti mix.

And it’s not just his eyes that are amazing. When I fell on him, he felt like complete muscle. The tight T-shirt he’s wearing and the golden tan he’s sporting… my imagination is running wild. His thick hair is light brown with blond streaks running through it, pushed back with some gel.

Now let’s talk about his perfect lips—which happen to be one of my favorite parts of a man’s body. The lower one is slightly bigger than the upper. They’re a shade of medium pink and smooth like a newborn’s skin. Maybe he uses a lot of lip balm. To have just one nip before this plane lands would make my day. If our faces get any closer, I might not resist the temptation. This magnetic pull is unbelievable.

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