Page 39 of Ms. Fortune

I sit up quickly with my eyes still shut, and the blood drains out of my head, making me dizzy, and I sway a little.

“Whoa, easy there, Quick Draw.” Brandon’s voice is soft and comforting, and I want to curl back up and listen to it so it can ease my pounding head. “Hangovers and changes in air pressure can be a real doozy.” He rubs my back gently, making me want to go back to sleep.

I squint, examining the too-bright interior of the plane. “It’s dark out. You said morning,” I grumble. My mouth is so dry it feels like I swallowed the entire desert before leaving Vegas.

“It’s about 5 AM, so technically, it’s morning. We’re landing soon.” He sounds completely normal and looks no worse for wear. He’s somehow even more attractive when he wakes up. Really not fair. And I guess he can handle his wine better than I can. “Water?” He can also read minds now, too. Awesome.

“Water.” I nod because I don’t think my talking made any noise, at least not that I could hear. He comes back with a bottle of water and some pain relievers. Cool. So, he’s an adorable mind-reading angel. “Thanks,” I croak and take the pills, gulping half the bottle of water in the process.

He’s watching my every move, and I’m becoming self-conscious. I may have gotten too comfortable and friendly with him last night while we talked. I let my guard down again around him, which is so not what I want to do. I can’t let him slide his way into my heart and life. Right now, I’m dependent on him for safety, but this is an extreme situation. I don’t have a lot of options at the moment. Getting drunk and muddling up my mind isn’t going to help. That was not my brightest move.

I stand up when he sits next to me and puts an arm around my shoulders. I panicked when he got close, and now I need to look like I had a reason for standing. I have not had enough sleep to think straight. Okay, we’re landing…Chelsie! I need to wake her up. I swear I’m losing it.

“Normandy? Are you okay?” The concern in his tone claws at me, making me even more confused. I want to give in, but the wall around my heart tells me no. Nobody gets in.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I avoid meeting his eyes as I glance around, reorienting myself to the plane. Once I figure out which way Chelsie is, I head that way. “I need to wake up Chelsie.”

Before I get too far, Brandon reaches me and grabs my arms gently, turning me to him. I’m ultra-aware of his body so close to me. You’d think I’d be too hungover to notice stuff like his solid muscles, sharp jawline, or damn, those bedroom eyes that are so captivating. But no, these things about him are so damned obvious, I’d have to be blind not to see them. Anybody would. I am not unique in these observations, and I know it.

“What is wrong?” He’s trying to catch my eye, but I avoid it, looking everywhere but at him. I know in my soul if I meet his eyes right now, I’ll lose myself in them. “And why won’t you look at me?”

I try to twist out of his grasp, but he holds me firmly in place. I stop struggling and silently stare at his chest. Gazing intently at a button of his shirt, wondering if it was the one that left a mark on my cheek. Is that mark still there?

“Normandy, talk to me.” The frustration in him is growing; I can feel it. “You’re not looking at me. You’re not talking to me. You barely even said ten words to me since you woke up. What is going on with you?”

I don’t have a good answer. Not one that he wants to hear anyway. Sorry, I’m sending all these mixed messages. I’m just a little screwed up right now. Actually, all the time. I’m trying to save both of us from the inevitable heartache that comes with being in a relationship with me.

I shrug weakly. “I’m just hungover. That’s all. It’s no big deal.”

“You don’t look at people when you’re hungover?” He leans in again, forcing me to meet his gaze. And when I do, I can feel when it happens. When the blocks of ice around my heart melt into oceans. His hazel eyes capture mine, and I can see everything. His painful past, his chaotic present, and his hopeful future. It’s all laid bare for me in that stare. He’s always so open and honest with me in everything. Earnest. That was the word I thought to describe him once, and it was spot on. I know that he means every word he says.

But with that knowledge comes security I’ve not known in all my 31 years, and it scares me to death. How safety and security in a person can be so terrifying, I have no idea, but I don’t always make sense.

“I’m looking.”

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through right now, but I want you to know that I’m not going to rest until you and your family are safe. I gave you my word, and I meant it.”

I study his face, looking for any sign of deception, even the tiniest hint that he might have ulterior motives, but I don’t see anything. I am not used to guys being so honest with me.

Before I wised up after college, every single man in my life that I had a ‘relationship’ with went out of their way to do something to hurt me. They either left, cheated, or lied and, on one occasion, even hit me. That was the lowest point and the last time I let myself believe anyone who said they cared. It will take a lot more than words to prove otherwise to me. I’ll give it to Brandon, though; he is trying very hard to convince me of his honesty. But then, who comes out and says they’re a liar? Nobody.

He sees my hesitation and fear and shrouds me in his arms. I don’t fight him. I don’t have the will anymore, and my defenses are gone when it comes to him. He’s become my port in this storm, and I need someone I trust to give a shit.

“I’m not used to….” I pat his chest, where his heart is beating strong, “this. I’m not used to anyone….” I can’t finish my thought. He doesn’t let me.

He puts a hand under my chin, tilting my face to his, and runs his thumb across my bottom lip slowly, stopping my words as he shakes his head silently. The sensation causes all the butterflies currently fluttering around in my stomach to fly free, and they take all of my common sense with them when they go.

I push up on tiptoe and press my lips to his, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him in to deepen the kiss. The sudden need to be as close to him as possible overtakes me, and I press against his body, and he echoes my movements. Drawing me closer for a moment, he pulls away, tearing apart our kiss, leaving us both gasping for breath.

“Sorry…” I don’t know what came over me just then. Something about how he was touching me, looking at me, propelled me to want to be closer. To see if he was real.

“Don’t ever apologize.” He smooths my hair, probably mussed from sleep and our kiss. “I only stopped because we’re about to land. We need to wake up Chelsie. Otherwise, believe me, we’d be doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

I nod. Of course, I’ve completely forgotten what we’re doing and why we’re on the plane in the first place. How could I let myself do that? I must be more hungover than I thought. I cringe, trying to remember if I did or said anything incriminating last night while we talked. I don’t think I did, but then I haven’t had that much wine in one sitting in a very long time. Who knows what came out of my mouth. Brandon doesn’t seem too concerned, so it must have been fine.

“Right. Sorry.” I flinch at the apology. “Sorry for the sorry… you know what I mean.”

He chuckles and caresses my cheek. “Go wake your sister. We’ll need to be seated and buckled up in a few.”

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