Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5)

by Jessica Hawkins

  This was different than any of those. It was a grinding, screaming combination. Metal on metal. Speed mixed with force. The plane was shaking. Dipping. Each major shift in altitude caused my stomach to flip.

  It was happening every few seconds, the coffee and mimosa threatening to come up.

  As the sound got louder, my body shaking even harder, I tucked my legs to my chest and pressed my elbows together, my arms now blocking most of my face. I didn’t know where the noise was coming from. If something was about to fall or come flying at us. If we were about to just drop from the sky.

  Oh God.

  “Jared,” I cried.

  I didn’t know why I’d said his name. It didn’t make me feel better. I couldn’t even hear myself saying it, and there was no way he could hear me.

  When I ran out of air, my chest heaved for oxygen.

  I couldn’t inhale.

  Too much fear was pulsing through me.

  All I could do was tighten my body inside this ball I’d formed and squeeze my ears with my palms and shout, “Jared.” I yelled it over and over, waiting for an answer, waiting for some relief.

  Waiting for it all to stop.

  But it didn’t.

  It got worse.

  And that was when I felt him.

  It was just a squeeze of his fingers on my arm, but it was a grip I felt through my whole body, and that was what I concentrated on until the noise stopped.

  At first, I thought my ears were lying. I thought my eardrums had burst, and I’d gone deaf. But then Jared was pulling my arms apart, and his hands were on me as he was examining me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  There was ringing in my ears. Through it, I still heard him, but it was tough.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “You’re hurt?”

  I repeated the action, hoping the sound would stop. “I don’t think so.”

  He reached past me, shoving the blind all the way to the top, so he could see out the window.

  “What’s happening to us?” I asked him.

  I didn’t know what I was looking for, but as I glanced through the Plexiglas, I saw nothing alarming—no objects, no damage, not even a dark cloud.

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking at the other side of the plane.

  I glanced at the passengers across from us. Vomit covered the woman’s shirt. The man’s face was white as fresh tofu. Things were rolling down the aisle. Several of the overhead bins had opened, and luggage had spilled out.

  The plane dipped again, and without the noise, I was able to hold on to something other than my ears. One hand went to the armrest, and the other gripped Jared as I was thrust into the side of him.

  “Everyone, take your seats,” a flight attendant said over the intercom.

  It felt like we were a rock skipping across the surface of the ocean, each dip trying to suck us in. The plane would shudder its way through another pocket, fighting the air, and we’d drop and rise again.

  My nails were driving into Jared’s forearm. I couldn’t stop. He wasn’t telling me to. He wasn’t even acknowledging what I was doing to him.

  “What the fuck is happening?” I cried. “Why aren’t they telling us anything?”

  “I don’t think they know.”

  The woman behind me was sobbing, each shift in pressure causing her to gasp. She was going to start hyperventilating any second.

  So was I.

  The space inside our row wasn’t big enough. The seats were closing in. The air was gone.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I could barely hold on.

  “Something hit one of the engines,” Jared said as he looked at me.

  I didn’t know what that meant.

  Can a plane survive with one engine like a person can live with only one kidney?

  “How do you know?” I asked him, holding the armrest underhand when we shot over another pocket.

  “I can see it smoking.”

  Oh God.

  “Jared …” I swallowed as we went over another bump. “Tell me we’re going to be all right.”

  The intercom came on before he had a chance to respond. “This is your captain speaking. We’re going to have to make an emergency landing. Everyone, stay in your seats with your seat belts fastened. Please try and remain calm. We’ll notify you when we have more information.”

  I looked at Jared, tears making his face blurry. “Answer me,” I whispered.

  “Billie … I can’t.”

  I immediately heard a scream.

  I just wasn’t sure if it was mine.

  Honey

  Spring 1984

  Honey remembered looking at the doctor’s hands while he had been in her room, but she couldn’t recall anything gold or shiny catching her attention. Of course, she also hadn’t recognized the doctor when he first came in. And now, thinking back, several other things from that morning were fuzzy.

  It was an important detail she had missed.

  One that changed everything.

  Still, she couldn’t understand why he would ask her out if he was married. Does he think she’s a slut, and she’ll give him something his wife won’t? Or maybe he thinks she’s so grateful for everything he has done that she will overlook his ring.

  She was too confused to draw a conclusion, so she rolled her head to the right, looking at Valentine on the other side of her bed, and said, “What do I do?”

  “Either call him back and cancel or wait for him to show up tomorrow night to do it in person.”

  Andrew was at the hospital, and from the sounds of their phone call, it was extremely busy there. If she left a message, she didn’t know the likelihood of him receiving it.

  “I’m just going to wait until tomorrow,” Honey replied, putting pressure on her incision. “And after he shows up, I think I’m going to shut the door in his face.”

  “Please kick him in the balls first.”

  “Don’t make me laugh; it hurts.” Honey closed her eyes, and a memory of Andrew smiling at her came into her head. “Ugh, he’s so cute.”

  “There are much cuter out there.” She reached for Honey’s hand and wrapped hers around it. “Stop thinking about him. He’s not worth it. I promise, you’re going to find someone who is.”

  Honey had said the same words to Valentine in the past. That was what best friends did in situations like this. That didn’t mean Honey would stop thinking about the doctor or that she’d so easily be able to drain him from her mind.

  As the hours ticked by, she learned that was impossible.

  Andrew was all she thought about until she went to bed and again while she was at the DMV the next day. When she got back to her apartment after work, she changed out of her dress, putting on a pair of jeans and a casual, sleeveless shirt. She sprayed her long hair and teased her bangs, and then she cleaned up her makeup before going to the couch to wait for him.

  It was a few minutes before seven when the doorbell rang. There was a movie playing on the TV, and Honey’s eyes were on the screen, but she hadn’t watched a single scene. She was too busy thinking about what she was going to say.

  Her heart pounded as she stood, and her feet tingled as she made her way across the floor. The metal handle felt slick as she surrounded it with her sweaty hand. Her eyes closed for a second, and she took a deep breath before she slowly opened the door.

  Andrew was on the other side, holding a bouquet of roses. The lush red of the flowers immediately drew in Honey’s eyes but not before she took a long look at Andrew. At the playfulness in his eyes and the mischievousness in his grin.

  “You look beautiful, Honey.”

  There was something about him she couldn’t get enough of. She had felt that the last two times she saw him. And as she stared at him, she realized it was his kindness. She could sense it, even from where she was standing.

  Her stomach felt like a plugged sink, filling with disappointment and dread.

  Especially when he h
eld the flowers in her direction, and she dropped her gaze to his hand.

  To the gold band around his important finger.

  Valentine was right.

  And it made her feel sick.

  She stared at his ring for several seconds longer just to be sure, and then she looked at him and said, “I don’t go out with married men, Andrew. Please don’t ever call me again.”

  She went back inside, leaving him on the doorstep, and she shut him out. Not having the energy to go to her room, she pushed her back against the door and slowly slid down until her butt was on the floor.

  Her chest was miserably tight, and her stomach felt the same.

  He had healed her once.

  And now, it felt like he was ripping those stitches apart.

  Jared

  I knew exactly what terror looked like. And as I gazed at Billie, I was staring it right in the face.

  But this was a situation I wasn’t able to fix; I couldn’t safely get us out of the plane until it was on the ground. I couldn’t help the pilots land. I couldn’t repair the engine.

  There wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do besides keep her calm and as protected as I could, making sure we had the best chance of surviving this.

  Whatever the hell this was.

  And without knowing that, I couldn’t answer Billie’s question. I couldn’t tell her she was going to be all right. I didn’t think the pilot could tell us that either. He had chosen his words carefully during his announcement, using a tone that wouldn’t cause more alarm.

  I couldn’t rely on getting updates from him or the flight attendants. They would be infrequent and filtered from this point forward. I had to go with my gut, my instincts, my forty-seven years’ worth of life experiences.

  “Look at me,” I said to Billie.

  Both of her arms were clutching me now. All she had to do was look up.

  And she did.

  “Do you have your seat belt on?”

  I knew she did. I’d already checked. But she was paralyzed, and I needed her moving. I needed her attention to shift even if it was for only a couple of seconds. Her heart needed a break from the fear too.

  She glanced down, the turbulence causing her head to bounce, and then back up at me. Tears streamed from her eyes. “Yes.”

  “I need you to listen to me, Billie.” I tried to balance myself while the plane catapulted forward, ricocheting over pockets of air.

  “I can’t.” Her lips were trembling, her chest heaving. “I’m freaking out, Jared. Completely freaking out.”

  The plane jerked to the side, and Billie slammed into my shoulder. I immediately lifted the armrest that was between us, and my arm circled behind her back, the outside of our thighs pressing together. I pulled her as close as I could get her.

  “Lie to me if you have to,” she wept as she stared up at me. “Just tell me we’re going to be okay.”

  I squeezed her as tight as I could, and I said the one thing I could promise her, “I’m not going to let go of you.”

  Honey

  Spring 1984

  “Honey,” Andrew said while he knocked. “Please open the door, and I’ll explain everything.”

  Honey hadn’t moved from the floor, so she felt the wood vibrate behind her every time Andrew’s knuckles hit it. And she didn’t respond because she didn’t know what there was to explain. He was wearing a wedding band, and he hadn’t even tried to hide it, which made the situation feel worse.

  She closed her eyes, her mascara crunching. “Just leave, Andrew. There’s nothing to say.”

  She heard a thud, and it sounded like his hand had flattened against the door.

  “You’re wrong. There’s so much to say.” He paused. “Please don’t make me air it all on the street.”

  Honey had extremely nosy neighbors. The last thing she wanted was one of them to overhear and gossip about this.

  “If you don’t like what I have to say, you can throw me out,” he said.

  Honey didn’t know if it was out of curiosity or the fear of someone hearing him, but she got off the floor and opened the door. “Two minutes. That’s it,” she told him, holding it wide enough for him to come in.

  Andrew stepped into the entryway, setting the roses on a table by the staircase before he gazed down at his left hand. He was holding it out in front of him, fingers extended, the ring shining under the overhead light. “I know how this looks.” He finally glanced up at her. “You have every right to feel the way you do.”

  “You’re married?”

  She couldn’t wait for him to get to that part of the story. She needed to know immediately.

  Seconds ticked by before he responded, “Technically, yes, since the divorce won’t be finalized until the end of this week.”

  That news should have made Honey feel better. He was obviously separated from his wife, and that was a much different scenario than what had been in her head. But it didn’t explain why he was still wearing a ring, and that made her draw another conclusion.

  “You didn’t want the divorce,” she said.

  His hand dropped from the air, and he shoved it into his pocket. “During residency, I was at the hospital for days at a time without going home. Sometimes, we’d go that long without talking. I have no excuses. I should have tried harder to communicate.” He shook his head, disappointment evident in his expression. “Those were hard years, but they were behind us. I was an attending doctor at a hospital in Washington, DC, and I was working day shifts.”

  She nodded toward his pocket. “You’re still wearing it.” Her voice softened, a dread tugging at her even stronger than before.

  He pulled his hand out to look at the ring again, using his thumb to circle the band around his finger.

  Honey didn’t know what the weight of that ring felt like. She didn’t know if she would miss the symbolism and the heaviness of it on her finger. She didn’t know how she’d feel if she was forced to take it off … like Andrew.

  “I’m new here,” he said, now gazing at her. “And I’m single. When coworkers hear that, especially nurses, they instantly want to set you up. I came to Maine to practice medicine, and I wanted that to be the focus. You …” His stare deepened, and that boyish lightness returned to his face. “You were a wonderful accident.”

  Honey didn’t let that distract her. She needed more, so she asked, “Haven’t people asked about your wife?”

  “I’ve been here two weeks, and today is my first day off. The hospital has been so busy that no one has had a chance to ask.” When she opened her mouth to respond, he stopped her. “I know what you’re inquiring, Honey, and I have nothing to hide. If someone asks, they will get the same answer I just gave you.”

  As she stared at the doctor, she just wanted him to give her something that would settle her, enough that she would consider going out with him. Because, right now, she wasn’t convinced he was over his ex-wife.

  “Why are you wearing the ring tonight, Andrew?”

  He took a step closer, tugging the ring off his finger, and when he reached her, he placed it on her palm. “Read the engraving on the inside.”

  Honey held it up in the air and looked at the ornate script that had been etched into the gold metal.

  Esther & Irving

  March 23, 1946

  After reading it several times, she glanced at Andrew. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is my father’s wedding band. I’ve been wearing it on my right hand since he died six years ago. When I moved out of my house, I tossed my ring, and I put this one on my left hand.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  And she was—for assuming, for automatically doubting him, for reacting instead of asking him the question.

  She turned her focus back to the ring, studying the unique pattern. It looked like a French braid had been weaved across the front while it was solid in the back. In the bends of the metal were darker patches that showed the age of the band.

  “It’s beautiful,” she
said, returning it to him.

  He secured it back on his finger and looked at her with the most honest eyes. “It’s been a year since we separated. She’s engaged to another man. I will always care about her, but I don’t love her anymore.”

  Honey didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know what the appropriate thing was to say. So, she did the only thing that felt right. She closed the small distance between them, and she hugged him.

  “You look like you want to marry the man.”

  Honey remembered Valentine saying that when she’d gotten off the phone with Andrew.

  It had been true then.

  And she suspected it was true again now.

  Billie

  “Oh my God,” I gasped as the plane dipped for what felt like the millionth time. My stomach continued to drop, not getting used to the feeling even though it was happening every few seconds. “Why?” I said to Jared. “Why, why, why?”

  I’d been saying that word over and over in my head.

  It was time to say it to him, hoping he had an answer.

  So far, not a single person on this plane knew anything. Not any of the other passengers or the one flight attendant who had passed down the aisle, holding a blood-soaked towel against a passenger’s head. When Jared had asked her what was happening, she’d told him she didn’t know.

  But there were changes every few seconds. New sounds. New sensations. At times, it felt like we had flown into a box, and our wings kept hitting the sides. We could feel the energy the plane was using. We felt every inch of movement, so we knew we weren’t going down.

  But we didn’t know where we were going.

  I’d already looked at the passengers behind me. I saw no leader. No one had stood; no one was making demands from their seat. Jared hadn’t answered my last two questions, but that didn’t stop me from voicing another one.