Page 4 of Hot Mess Wedding

He gives me a tight nod. Not so much a smile, more of a grimace, then he lowers his giant body into the seat next to mine.

We’re on one of those smallish planes. I don't know. I've never been on a plane but you know, it only has two on one side and two on the other. I just know it's not like the big ones that you see in the movies. So it's just me and him and I'm at the window and he's in the aisle.

I try offering up a polite smile. He grimaces in return.

You want to guess what he does in response?

He reaches a meaty arm up and presses the call button. A flight attendant appears on the row in front of us and practically flashes her boobs with the amount of cleavage she’s showing. She smiles widely at my seat companion.

“What can I do for you?” she asks.

He clears his throat. “Are other seats available?”

The flight attendant glances over at me, then gives hot guy a knowing look. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve got a completely full flight.” She pats his arm and turns away.

This mother fucker! He may be hot, but what an ass. I know I’m a big girl, but I’m not overflowing from my seat. I don’t smell. I haven’t even started talking yet which is arguably my most annoying habit. At least according to my brothers.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” I snap. Because I evidently just can’t help myself.

“What?” he growls.

His voice is deep and smoky, and my nipples tighten with just that one word.

“I was just explaining,” I say in clipped, enunciated words, like I’m talking to a child. “That you’re stuck with me for the flight since you can’t change seats.”

He turns and looks at me. His dark chocolate eyes bore into mine and I swear he can see every hidden thought I’ve ever had. It’s simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

For a moment, his eyes drift closed and I’d swear he was praying for patience. Then, he scrubs a hand down his face and his lips twist into a smile that looks equal parts resigned and annoyed.

“Aww, lil’ darlin’ I was only trying to find some extra leg room.”

Oh, is that how he’s going to play it?

He’s going to try to pretend he didn’t just try to ditch me?

Then he shuffles his big feet encased in those even bigger black leather boots.

And his feet and legs are big. Maybe he genuinely was just trying to get more leg room.

I look back at his boots. They are just like the ones I put on Bolt’s feet.

Seriously. Maybe I’m hallucinating. Maybe I got on the plane and promptly passed out from nerves and now I’m having a dream about my character come to life.

His chuckle seems to weave around my body, hitting all of my erogenous zones.

I stare at his face and I’m fascinated that he has lines next to his eyes. Like laugh lines or smile lines, whatever you want to call them. This big, growly man is obviously no stranger to humor which somehow makes him even more attractive.

“I don’t think you’re hallucinating,” he says.

“Oh damn, did I say all of that out loud?”

He just shakes his head. “You did, sugar baby, but I enjoyed everything you said.”

“Well, just for the record, I’m sure people stare at you all the time because you’re so big and hot, but I was only looking at you because you remind me of a character in a book.”

“What book?”

“One I’m writing, so nothing you would have heard of or seen.”

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