“As soon as we board.”
The man handling their luggage placed it on a dolly and walked away.
“Dr. Eddy?”
They both turned toward the man calling his name. He wore a pilot’s uniform and a smile.
“Trent said someone would meet us. I assume that’s you.”
“Rendell,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ll be your pilot today. Sean is on board getting the aircraft ready.”
Dakota removed her sunglasses and spun toward the massive windows that looked out on the tarmac.
“I just need to see a picture ID.”
Walt pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
“We’re . . . you chartered a private plane?” Dakota’s voice actually dropped an octave.
Walt took her by the elbow and led her toward their flight.
“Pulled a favor. Like I said . . . the flight home won’t be as nice.”
Walt took pride in the ability to silence Dakota. The woman had a lot to say . . . but she was quiet now.
They walked straight to the small jet and climbed the short stairway into the cabin.
The plane sat six passengers, but it was only the two of them, the two pilots, and one flight attendant.
Walt guided her into a middle seat and took the one across from her. The hatch was already being shut before they buckled. “This has Monica and Trent written all over it,” Dakota finally said.
“They offer all the time but I don’t often take them up on it.”
Dakota ran her hands over the plush leather seats and crossed her legs. She completed the space and looked as if she’d ridden on a private plane many times. “I like your friends, Doc. Did I tell you Monica pushed me to the top floor of The Morisson while I was in New York?”
Walt buckled his belt, sat back. “You didn’t.”
“Penthouse with all the trimmings. When I called and told her she didn’t have to, she brushed me off.”
“Get used to it. The Morrisons and the Fairchilds are generous beyond belief.”
“I can see that. But I barely know them.”
The flight attendant wore black slacks and a white silk blouse. Her smile was genuine. “I’m Stacey. I’ll be your attendant today. As soon as we’re at cruising altitude, I’ll prepare your meals. There’s a small menu in the console. Welcome aboard Fairchild Charters. If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Dakota’s smile grew bigger. “Thank you.”
Stacey moved to the back of the cabin and the pilot’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Dr. Eddy, Miss Laurens, we’ll be in the air within five minutes. Please remain seated with your seat belts in place until I tell Stacey it’s safe to move about the cabin. Welcome aboard.”
Dakota leaned forward and whispered. “I could get really used to this.”
“Sometimes it pays to book things last-minute.”
Dakota ordered eggs and toast and Walt asked for the works. When Stacey suggested mimosas, they both took her up on it.
“What are your parents going to think when you introduce me?”
Walt sipped his drink and dug into his eggs. “My mother’s head will spin a little. She’s not expecting you.”
“You didn’t tell her I’m coming?”
“No . . . and before you accuse me of forgetting, I didn’t. I chose not to say a thing until we get there. Twenty questions without you there would be awkward.”
The eggs were surprisingly good. How did Stacey manage that on an airplane?
“Are we sticking to the truth? We just started dating . . . or more to the point, we keep trying to date but haven’t caught a break yet.”
Walt pointed his fork in her direction. “If we say that, my mom will try and set me up with someone even with you there.”
“So we lie.”
“We omit.”
Dakota sat back, the smile on her face drew to a soft line. “You really are using me.”
He lowered his fork.
“Be honest with me, Doc.”
He hated how much his back teeth hurt when his jaw tightened. “Truth is we haven’t caught a break. Carving this weekend out of our lives might be the best thing.”
“Or it might not.”
He didn’t like the squeeze in his chest her words created. “If we don’t work out, duping my parents over the weekend will only affect me.”
“It sounds like you’re already calling us over.” Dakota lost her smile altogether.
This conversation wasn’t working out like he’d planned. Then again, he hadn’t planned it.
“I already told you I like being single,” he reminded her. “You said the same.”
Her chest rose and fell with a slow deep breath. “You’re right . . . I did . . . and I do. No woman likes to think they’re being used. We’re going to Colorado to sneak away from our lives . . . your parents are simply a distraction.”
“Exactly.” Maybe she did understand. Then again, it sounded as if she were relaying a plot in one of her books. That thought left him flat.
She looked out the window, her expression unreadable.
“You’re upset,” he told her.
Her gaze met and pierced his.
A thousand questions were asked in the moments that passed between them . . . none were spoken.
A smile . . . the Southern kind with teeth and a complete lack of sincerity followed. Dakota lifted her glass to his. “To duping your parents and having a wonderful weekend away from work.”