She takes a breath, but doesn’t smile at my poor attempt at humor.
The captain comes over the speakers.
“Thanks for joining us today, ladies and gentlemen. We have a flight today of just under three hours. We’re going to try to get you there a little early, but there are reports of some rough air today, so we’re going to keep that seat belt sign on. The flight attendants will be through with refreshments when it’s safe for them to do so. We’ll do our best to find a smooth altitude for you, but do keep those seat belts on. The weather in Portland is overcast, with a high of sixty-three today.”
“Oh God, more rough air,” she whispers. “Why do my flights have rough air? Everyone always tells me that flying is like riding in a car, but it’s not. It’s like being on a roller coaster a mile in the sky. And I hate roller coasters.”
I take her hand and hold on tight. “Look at me, Kat.”
“I can’t.”
“I said look at me.” Her gaze swings to mine. “You are fine. I promise you, nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I don’t like it.”
Tears threaten, and it just about kills me. When the ding sounds, letting us know we’ve hit higher than ten thousand feet, and the flight attendants stand, I gesture for one to come to me.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m letting you know now that in a few minutes I’m going to unbuckle her belt and put her in my lap. She’s terrified.”
She frowns. “Sir, we need her to keep her belt on—”
“I’m not asking,” I reply calmly. “And I’m not being disrespectful, but look at her. She can’t breathe. She’s panicked. I’m just going to calm her.”
Kat isn’t even listening to us. She’s resting her elbows on her knees, rocking gently, face in her hands.
The flight attendant nods. “Okay. But if we hit severe turbulence, she’ll need to buckle up.”
“Understood.”
I don’t wait. I unbuckle Kat’s belt and lift her easily onto my lap.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” I reply. Once she’s settled, her head on my chest, I plug my earbuds into my phone, slip one into my ear, then one in hers, and find my yoga playlist. She sighs. “Just breathe.” I kiss her head.
We sit like this for a long while, listening to soothing music while she concentrates on breathing. We hit one rough spot and she fists my shirt, but I take her hand in mine and kiss it, then link our fingers. “You’re okay.”
“This isn’t bad,” she concedes. “They should offer you on every flight.”
I smirk. “I’m too expensive.”
We land too quickly for my taste. I would have gladly flown all day with Kat curled up in my lap.
“We made it,” she says with a gusty sigh.
“In one piece.”
She grins as we taxi to the gate. “Thank you. If I ever try to take my life in my own hands again and fly somewhere, I’ll call you.”
You haven’t asked for my number, sweetheart. She also hasn’t asked what I do for work, where I live, or even my last name. She’s been sure to keep our weeklong relationship purely superficial.
“I think you’ll be fine,” I reply. “You’re a pro now.”
She shakes her head. “No way.”
We exit the plane, and she stops in the gate area to turn to me. “I had a great week.”
“I did too.”
She stands on her tiptoes and raises her mouth to mine, kissing me softly but thoroughly as people rush around us.
Finally, she backs away, cups my cheek, and smiles up at me. “Good-bye, Mac.”
“Good-bye, Kat.”
She walks away, her heels clicking smartly as she drags her cherry-covered bag behind her. Her hips sway enticingly.
When the crowd swallows her up, I turn on my phone and make a call.
“It’s Mac. We need to make some changes.”
Chapter Five
~Kat~
“And you haven’t heard from him since?” Owen, one of my favorite customers, asks two weeks later. He’s leaning on the bar, sipping his usual Jack and Coke.
“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head.
“Huh.” He sips his drink. “You know, sometimes men just suck, Kat.”
“Oh, trust me. I know.” I laugh and wipe the bar down for the fourth time. It’s not dirty. Owen is the only customer in the place right now. I’m waiting for a wine-tasting tour to come through in about thirty minutes. “Let me ask you something.”
“Fire away.”
“When a woman sleeps with a man, does that automatically trigger something in his brain that says he’s finished with her? Like, if they aren’t in a committed relationship.”
“You’re the shrink,” he replies with a gusty breath.
“I’m not a man,” I remind him.
“True.” He rubs his cleanly shaven chin and narrows his handsome blue eyes at me. “When I first started dating Jen, I was an ass. I thought I just wanted to get laid.”
“Well, you were young.”
“I was a young ass.” He shrugs. “And she called me out on it. Maybe that’s what you need to do. Call him out.”
Owen’s a smart man. He’s been coming into my bar regularly for a long time, ever since he and his wife were having a hard time of it and he didn’t want to go home after work. They’ve worked things out, but he still stops in a couple times a week to chat and have a drink. I like him.