Page 20 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
When Aidan reappeared he carried with him a tray of cookies, fruits, and two blueberry muffins. Everything else on the buffet looked too dangerous. She could poke her eye out, or his, with a baby carrot, get third degree burns from the soup, and don’t even get him started on the cubes of cheese on toothpicks. He placed the tray on the round table, then sat back down.
Beth drank from the cool bottle of water as she sighed and looked out the window. Let’s see, so far she had nearly broken Aidan’s foot, and his nose, ruined his shirt, cried—no bawled—like a child over being homesick, and now that guy was bringing her snacks? This adventure was off to a bang-up start.
Aidan looked at his watch. The boarding call would be soon.
Clumsy, sweet, beautiful Beth was rapidly becoming a dilemma he hadn’t seen coming and he wasn’t sure what bothered him more: that he was stuck with her or that deep down, he didn’t mind.
ChapterTen
Aidan pausedinside the plane’s entryway and from between the green curtains, observed Beth staring out the window from her seat. Her red hair sparkled in the sunlight streaming in, her skin glowed. She looked harmless—but he knew better. Behind that charming innocence was a hellcat-haired catastrophe.
In other words: exactly his type.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
He was so taken with cursing himself and any fates that played a part in this travesty that he didn’t notice who was standing beside her until he heard the voice offering her a glass of champagne. It was then that Beth turned in his direction. She looked terrified. But when her wide eyes found his, they smiled in warm welcome and said, “Am I happy to see you!”
And damn, again.
His heart, what was left of it, went out to her. He really wished it wouldn’t. He didn’t need this nonsense. His heart couldn’t take being broken again.
“It’s good to see you again, Aidan.”
Aidan didn’t have to look at the face to know who was addressing him. It was the tight-faced, bleached-blonde, helmet-haired stewardess who could never take a hint and had yet to figure out the purpose of buttons. “Would you bring me a whiskey with ice?” Aidan had yet to take his eyes off the terrified Beth. “And keep them coming.” Since the good Lord had no intention of intervening with that small coma he’d prayed for, perhaps, with any luck, he could bring that coma on himself.
Then, Beth beamed her smile at him and his heart clenched.
The quicker the better!
Aidan pulled his shoulders back and headed toward his fate: the only empty seat. The other passengers were already seated and comfortable, most with a drink in one hand and an e-reader in the other. “I guess this is me,” he said as he placed his carry-on in the overhead compartment.
“I can’t believe our seats are beside each other. How ironic!”
“It’s ironic all right.” He slid down into his seat and took a deep breath through his nose.
Surely, God hated him. Beth even smelled sweet for pity’s sake. How was he supposed to concentrate on not concentrating on her when she smelled better than a bakery on a Sunday morning?
As if helmet-hair heard his thoughts, she asked Beth what perfume she wore as she served Beth her champagne and Aidan his whiskey. As usual, her blouse had too many open buttons, her mouth had too much lipstick, and her hands didn’t keep to themselves. Currently the one not holding his whiskey was skating up his thigh.
“I don’t wear perfume,” Beth said. She had been told before that she smelled nice but never knew why. Besides, never mind her scent. Flight attendants sure were friendly these days. They not only served drinks but a massage as well. Although she tried to ignore it, Beth couldn’t help but see the red fingernails moving up Aidan’s thigh, or the alarm in his eyes.
Suddenly Aidan had an idea. He reached over, took Beth’s free hand, and in the most sickening lovey-dovey voice said, “I’m always saying my Cupcake should sweat into bottles.”
Baffled, Beth blinked from over the rim of her glass.
Helmet-hair took her hand back, unhinged his tray and plunked his drink on it. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“Huh?” Beth asked from inside her glass.
“I always thought you were single. Except for that?—”
“It’s still new and we have time don’t we, Cupcake?”
“What?” Beth sputtered.
Aidan widened his eyes, pleading for her to play along. Beth nodded, with a toothy, unsure smile.
“Well, how nice for you.” She’d practically spit the words. The stewardess spun on her heel with her bent-out-of-shape nose in the air.
