Page 2 of On the Fly
Normally, she would have blasted him, told him to get his ass up, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t remember with certainty, but surely somewhere in the company handbook was a clause prohibiting blasting a customer on the airline she worked for. So instead, she shoved past him, making sure to step on his foot before taking her seat next to his.
His grunt, though satisfying, alerted her she might have dug her heel in a little harder than necessary.
“Sorry,” she muttered, quickly buckling herself in before reaching into her handbag for her water bottle and the recently prescribed anxiety medication.
“Got your seatbelt on?” the flight attendant who’d hovered nearby asked.
“I do,” she said, swallowing the pill.
“They told us you were having some problems boarding. If you need anything, let me know.”
Emma nodded again, praying the medication was as fast-acting as the doctor claimed.
“Put your purse under the seat in front of you for takeoff.” The bright smile aimed at Emma shifted to the passenger beside her. The attendant’s gaze was so focused on the man that Emma turned back to the guy, trying to see what she might have missed. He was attractive, tall, muscular…but surly, and he ignored both of them as he shut his eyes again.
Official proclamation: cute but a creep.
What was wrong with men today? Emma stuffed her purse under the seat then rechecked the buckle of her seatbelt. Seconds later, she heard the roar of the engines and every other thought vanished. She sat back in the seat, clutched the armrests on either side of her, and started the prayer she always said anytime she was forced onto a scary situation.If I make it unharmed to my destination, I promise to never do anything wrong ever again.She’d cut out those sugary Starbucks drinks she had grown to love. She’d eat her veggies and stop swinging by Nothing Bundt Cakes for their free samples. She’d be nicer to Julia—the dumb stepsister who’d planned this stupid destination wedding in the first place. They lived in Georgia for crying out loud, where there was a rich Victorian history easily accessible. Why everyone had to travel across the country to Napa to stay in a Victorian-style plantation to watch her stepsister get married was beyond her.
Her sister had done this on purpose. Julia was just the kind of person to schedule a whole wedding to trigger Emma’s number one fear—flying in a plane. Ugh. That wasn’t true at all. She loved her stepsister. They’d had a rocky start when they were teenagers, blending a family together, but they were close now. Besides, an outdoor wedding in August in Atlanta would melt the guests faster than ice cubes on a barbeque. The milder weather in California would be a refreshing change from the stifling heat. Though she’d be willing to sweat her makeup off to avoid the flight cross country.
The prayer. Remember the prayer. Emma would be nicer to her sister. She’d be more patient with her stepmother. She’d also find a new job. What a ridiculous situation to be in—working for an airline when she feared flying. Emma gripped the armrests harder, digging in her fingers. She needed a new life.
The plane jerked forward as it taxied to the runway. The medication wasn’t working, and her heart drummed in her chest with each sway and bump. Should she take a second pill? No, she should have just said no to Julia. Why was she putting herself through this torture? A nice wedding gift would have been so much better.
“Excuse me,” her seat neighbor said loudly enough to penetrate the blood pumping through her veins and pounding in her ears.
She glanced over. Whatever he saw had his already furrowed brow dipping into a hard V. He shoved one earphone to the side, taking a closer look at her. She then followed his gaze as it traveled down to the hand she had clutched around his arm resting on the armrest, her fingernails digging into his skin. She should let go, she knew she should, but she couldn’t, not yet. She drew in a gasp of air as the plane lurched forward, picking up speed, barreling down the runway.
“Will it be this way the whole flight?” he asked with a tone that irritated her in its calm indifference.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
Then the toad did something extraordinary: he nodded, moved the earphone back over his ear, and let her continue to grip his arm. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a jerk as she’d assumed. She thought about that for the length of ten seconds as the pressure against her chest grew with the speed of the plane. The ascent took her breath, and she closed her eyes to concentrate on breathing.
When the airplane leveled out and the roar of the engines quietened, she eased her tight grip, lifting each finger individually. Emma patted his arm where she’d held him in a death squeeze before bringing her hands to her lap. Her fingers hurt from the strain of holding on. Now, she only had about four hours left. This medication needed kick in.
Emma leaned her head back against the seat. “I’m sorry. It never gets better.” With a side-eye, she watched the guy rub his forearm, but ignore her apology. There was no way to know if he heard her with his earphones still covering both ears. It didn’t matter. She closed her eyes, thankfully feeling the tingle of relaxation wash over her ever so slightly as the medicine kicked in—or maybe it was just the crash of the adrenaline surge she’d had for takeoff. All her tense muscles eased, and the drone of the engines disappeared.
Chapter 2
Emma fought the tug pulling her from the blissful peace of oblivion. She took a deep breath. Mmm, the spicy, musky scent of man. She liked his cologne and needed to remember to tell… Wait…who was she with? Oh mercy no. A one-night stand? Yeah, she’d think about the repercussions later because he smelled too good. She turned her head, her nose scraping against his skin, and she lifted her hand, wanting to snuggle deeper into his body.
Her fingers met wetness and she frowned. That made no sense at all. Regretfully, Emma lifted her head and cracked her eyelids open. The guy next to her worked on his cell phone, earphones covering his ears, ignoring her. She looked down to see a large wet stain on the dress shirt covering his arm. Her surroundings, the plane, and the unhelpful guy sitting next to her, all coalesced to land in her lap in a rush of anxiety that easily pulled her from the fog of whatever the doctor had prescribed for her.
“Sorry,” she muttered, more as a polite gesture than with any sort of real meaning. She let out a sigh as she straightened in her seat and closed her eyes. “I have a thing about airplanes.”
Even though he hadn’t spared her a glance or acted as though he could hear her, he said, “Couldn’t tell,” which shocked her a little.
For some reason, definitely not the tone or his delivery, his short reply made her smile. She tried to hide the slight tugging at the corner of her lips, but she still counted it as a smile. Pretty remarkable for all the anxiety churning through her.
“You’ve got jokes,” she responded, not even opening her eyes. Emma concentrated on breathing, deep breaths in through her nose…out through her mouth. Something about breathing in through the nose, not the mouth, helped settle her. Yeah, replaying her doctor’s advice in her head helped her see the holes in his theory.
“What you’ve got is a sinus problem. You snore like that regularly?”
Emma’s eyes flew open. “I didn’t snore.”
“You did.” He finally did a cocky little head turn, a wisp of that styled white-blond hair falling over his forehead. He gave her a side-eye with a smirk hinting at his lips, then he moved the headphone off one ear and gave her a single nod.
