Page 2 of More Than Falling in Love

“You weren’t wrong.I mean, I’m happy to be sitting by you.”I don’t want to run down someone I don’t know, and the guy might be nice.I’m still glad he’s not next to me.

Tandy shifts in her seat.“Already have a special someone?”

This isn’t my usual in-flight conversation, and given my current thought spiral, it’s not well timed.“No.”

“Friends with benefits?”She wiggles her eyebrows.

I shake my head, wondering if I’m going to regret sitting next to this woman.

“Oh.”She flashes a small smile, then opens a book.On the cover is a shirtless cowboy with muscles in all the right places.His face is covered by a cowboy hat.However, it’s the name at the bottom that I notice.Okay, so I totally noticed the muscles.But the book’s author is Tandy Cavanaugh.

The woman next to me is reading her own book.

That’s impressive.The only time I wrote a book, I hated it.Couldn’t read past the first few paragraphs.That’s why it’s in a drawer, hidden from the world.She must be good at weaving words into stories.Just more proof that I should stick to what I’m good at.My job.

As much as I love flying, I don’t love takeoff, so I close my eyes as the flight taxis the runway, then lifts off.

In just a few hours, I’ll be hugging my dad and enjoying time on a ranch.I’ve visited him before in the small town where he lives now, but the ranch part is new.That’s where his soon-to-be wife lives.And he’ll be moving in with her.

I’ll be out of my element on a ranch, but embracing new adventures is better than missing out.

My thoughts are churning too much to allow sleep, and when the book snaps closed beside me, I open my eyes.

“Is San Antonio your final destination?”Tandy asks.

I’m glad she wants to chat.Sitting quietly in my seat can be boring.“A small town near there.My dad is getting married.”

Her eyes narrow.“Is this a good thing?”

“Oh yes.I’m really happy for him.My mom died years ago, and recently he met someone new.I’m thrilled he’s found love again.”

“But…”

I shake my head.“No but.”

She cocks her head.“Tell me about your someone special.”

“I don’t have a special someone.”This has already been established, and I’m starting to wish I’d endured a conversation with the businessman.

“I meant your hypothetical someone.”She glances at the guy.“He’s not your type.Obviously.”

And this is what bothers me about love and dating.People make it sound obvious and easy.Years and years ago when I asked my mom how she knew Dad was the one, she said it was obvious.She just knew.

I’ve never met anyone who sent my thoughts in that direction.After twenty-five years, I’m beginning to think my love radar is broken.Or maybe there isn’t a someone out there for me.But after watching my parents so happy for years, I’m not in a hurry to find someone only to be less than happy.I’m happy now.Why change that?

Tandy studies my expression.“Do you have a type?”

Aside from Mr.Darcy—because hello—I don’t have a picture of what I want.“Not really.”

She runs a finger along the edge of her book, thoughts clearly bubbling inside her head.

Adding to what I’ve said will hopefully steer this conversation in a productive direction.Or end it quickly.“I’m at a place in my life where my career is my focus.I’m happy.”The confidence in my words is commendable.

“The something you can control.”

Is it too late to switch seats?Spending the next couple of hours getting hit on might be easier than sitting next to someone who seems to have insight into my psyche.

“As opposed to the someone you can’t.”She pats my arm, then opens her book again.

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