by Liz Bower
Emotions I couldn’t stop from welling up tried to escape, so I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Clamping my teeth together, trapping the sob inside.
The air hostess strode back down the aisle towards us, a pilot behind her. Why weren’t they more concerned? Half the wing was practically missing. Why was I the only one panicking? And who the hell was flying the plane if the pilot was back there with us?
The pilot leaned over us to get a better view out of the window. Salt-and-pepper hair, eyes narrowed, making little lines fan out around them. But other than that, his face gave nothing away. He straightened and ushered the air hostess back up the aisle.
As they left, the worried murmurs of the other passengers grew louder. They stretched up in their seats, trying to see what was going on. A man in the row of seats behind me piped up.
“It’s just a panel off the wing. I’ve flown across the Atlantic with that happening before. It’s not a problem; she’s just making a fuss over nothing.”
Arsehole. What did he know? Surely you needed a full wing to fly—otherwise why design it that way in the first place? I turned my back to the other passengers, not wanting to see their questioning looks aimed my way, and glanced back out at the gaping black hole that had been left behind. Through the window, I could make out a bunch of blue wires exposed from the missing panel.
“I knew this was a stupid idea. Should have stayed at home instead.” Closing my eyes, I sank back against the seat. Fingers tightened around my hand again and I looked over to see those rich brown eyes trained on me, shining with intensity. They had little flecks of gold in them like when I added gold leaf sprinkles into my ganache.
“I’m Beck, by the way.”
I almost laughed at how surreal that moment was. How utterly British it was. To introduce yourself to your neighbour before you both plummeted to your death. Couldn’t possibly die next to a stranger. When I didn’t answer, he tilted his head towards me and the overhead spotlight lit up the side of his face. Highlighted a silvery line that ran down his cheek. A faded scar maybe?
“Kimberly,” I said, remembering my manners at last. “Kimberly Hardwick. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you but—”
The plane lurched; the left side of the plane—the side I was sitting on—dropped. Before I could stop it, a scream tore from my throat and my nails dug into his hand. But as suddenly as it had dropped, the plane levelled out again.
I pressed my nose against the window, my breath fogging it up. “Oh, my God. What’s happening now?”
A trail of white—smoke?—something snaked out from beneath the wing. The plane banked again and I could see the sprawl of the city lights of Leeds ahead in the distance.
Beck’s chin landed on my shoulder as he peered out the window. The stubble along his jaw scratched against my cheek. His thumb traced over my hand back and forth in an arc I assumed was supposed to be calming.
“Shh. It’s okay, they’re dumping fuel in preparation to land.” Tugging on my arm, he leaned back in his seat trying to drag me away from the window. I went willingly. Rested my head against the cushion and stared up at him.
“How do you know that? And how can you be so calm?” Our entwined hands rested against his thigh and his thumb traced across my wrist.
“I fly a lot. And I’m no stranger to high-risk situations.”
Well, that was…intriguing. “Really? Are you a paratrooper or something?” I licked my lips and he looked away from me. The muscle in his cheek twitched like he was stopping himself from confessing some deep, dark secret.
He glanced out of the window and said, “Or something.”
Huh. Vague much? But then he had every right to be. If we weren’t in this situation, we would probably have spent the duration of the flight ignoring each other. Polite chitchat as we manoeuvred around sharing the same cramped space for so long. I was saved from trying to come up with a reply by the crackle of the announcement system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. There is no need to panic, but there is a slight issue with the wing. Purely as a safety precaution, we will be returning to Leeds Bradford airport. Again, there is no need to worry. We’ll be circling for a little while as we dump some fuel before we make what I expect to be a swift and easy landing. Unfortunately, not at your destination airport as planned. I’ll speak to you again once we land, but for now, please remain seated with your seat belt securely fastened.”
The Tannoy crackled again followed by a brief moment of silence before the murmur of the passengers’ voices started up. That was good. Wasn’t it? Although the pilot was hardly going to admit he thought we might crash, was he?
“Hey, are you okay? You’ve gone as pale as the moon outside.”
“It’s…my parents were…in an accident and it reminded me of them being hurt.” What was I saying? I didn’t talk about what happened to my parents to anyone except my brother.
His fingers slipped from my hand and slid across my back. Arm wrapped around me, he pulled me closer until my head rested on his shoulder. Nose just inches from his neck, the scent of his spicy cologne invaded my senses. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He smelt like safety. And the faint trace of ginger lingering on his skin reminded me of the gingerbread loaf my gran used to love to bake.
Slow, even breaths as I tried to empty my mind of any thoughts other than counting each inhale and exhale. My ears popped as the plane descended, but I ignored that to concentrate on matching my breaths to the slow rhythm of Beck’s.
Finally, we dropped quickly. A whirring noise made me jump, but Beck pulled me closer. With a thud, I assumed we’d landed and the force of it pushed me against Beck’s chest.
The plane taxied for what felt like forever before it jerked to a stop. As a few cheers erupted from the seats behind me, I lifted my head and gave Beck a lopsided smile. Because—back on the safety of the ground—I thought I may have overreacted a tad. I slid back over into my seat and his arm dropped away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
And we were. But up there, when it had been happening, I’d honestly thought we were all going to die. Since losing my parents, it was like I was hyper-aware of my own mortality and that…I’d thought that was the end.
As first times on a plane went, it could definitely have been better.
Chapter Three
An hour after we took off, I was back in the airport lounge. Alone. I had shuffled down the aisle behind Beck and the other passengers, but somewhere between the plane and the lounge, I had lost him. Not that I’d expected him to stay with me. But as I took a seat on the hard plastic chair, I kind of wished he was there.
The moment the panel ripped off kept replaying in slow motion through my mind. I couldn’t remember ever being so scared or believing that I was going to die.
And thoughts of death brought back memories of my mum and dad…stepdad. No. Dad. He’d always been my dad; he’d raised me as his own. Even if I had found a birth certificate that said otherwise. And again, I wondered if they had ever planned on telling me the truth.
But once I’d found my birth certificate buried in my mum’s office files, the questions kept coming. Who was my biological dad? Why had I never met him? Or had I but just didn’t know? Did he know about me? Those questions were why I was sitting in the airport waiting to see if I’d be on another flight to Malta any time soon.
“Here, I thought you could use a little something.”
At the sound of Beck’s voice, I looked up as he held out a takeaway coffee cup. He glanced around the lounge over his shoulder before he squatted in front of me.
“There’s a shot of brandy in it to help with the shock.”
His serious look disappeared as he gave me a full, cheeky smile. The one he’d given me when he’d caught me eyeing him up on the plane. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago already. His lips parted, revealing white teeth that glinted under the overhead lights. And he had the sexiest dimples on either side of his mouth.
I needed something, all right.
Taking the offered cup, I gave him an answering smile. “Thanks. Where did you even get it from?” There was nothing in the lounge apart from rows of blue plastic chairs fastened to the floor, a vending machine in the corner that sold snacks, and another selling books. Along with lots of unhappy looking passengers slumped in the chairs scattered around the lounge. Luggage littered the aisles.
A pang of guilt hit me. Had I made too much of a fuss? All these people had plans. Plans that didn’t involve spending the night in the airport.
“I have my ways.” He laughed and gave me a wink.
I shook my head. I bet he did. That grin alone was probably enough to get him most things he wanted. With a fluid grace, he stood then sprawled himself across the chair next to me. Thigh pressed against mine. One arm slung around the back of my seat as he glanced around at the rest of the passengers. The warmth of his arm burned through the thin cotton of my shirt. Made the skin along my neck tingle at the heat of it.
Was he this friendly with everyone? Clearly he had no issue with personal space—judging by the fact that he was all up in mine. Not that I was complaining. Not in the slightest. The spicy scent of his cologne wrapped around me, and my shoulders lowered as I sank back against the hard chair and Beck’s equally hard arm.
“So…what’s waiting in Malta for you?”
My shoulders tensed again at the thought of explaining my convoluted reasons for flying to Malta. Oh, nothing much. Just found my birth certificate that showed my dad was actually my stepdad. Thought I’d fly to Malta to track down my biological father who didn’t know I was going. Or possibly that I even existed.
Aaaand when I put it like that I sounded a little crazy even to myself. Instead, I shook my head and a long piece of my black fringe fell loose from my ponytail.
“Okay. Must be more exciting than me flying out to see my parents for a week.”
My stomach did a little flip at his words. Wished that was my reason for going. That I knew I’d be welcomed with open arms to spend a week relaxing with my parents. But that could never happen, and I had no idea what I would find if I ever got to Malta.
“Excitement is overrated,” I said, turning to smile at him to take the sting out of my words. I took a sip of the brandy-laced coffee and grimaced. It was hot and strong. Hard liquor and I weren’t friends. “Thanks for this. And again, I’m sorry I freaked out on you on the plane.”
“It’s okay. Everyone’s scared of something. A lot of people are scared of flying. Makes more sense than being scared of the sea. Well, not so much the sea but the shoreline.”
Twisting around in my seat to place the paper cup on the floor, I glanced up to see he was serious. No way was a man like him scared of the shore. He had to be at least six foot if our half a foot in height difference was anything to go by. And with those muscles I didn’t think he’d have any trouble looking after himself. He didn’t look like he spent hours in the gym, but he had enough definition to suggest he wasn’t a stranger to one.
I had to be dreaming because this guy was gorgeous…and sweet. Sharing his fears to ease mine. “How can you be scared of the shoreline?”
His lip twitched up to flash one of those dimples at me. “Like I said, everyone’s scared of something. It’s stupid, irrational. But when I was a kid, my parents took me on holiday to Spain. I loved the sea and was playing around near the beach, jumping the waves when I fell over. Another wave hit before I could climb to my feet, and it was like I didn’t know which way was up. It didn’t help that I swallowed a mouthful of sea either. My dad dragged me out onto the beach as I coughed up a lung, and my mum had to clean up my leg where I’d scraped it on shells or pebbles.” He shrugged. “I told you it was stupid because I’m fine out in open water.”
His gaze swept the room before returning to mine. “So, are you going to share some embarrassing childhood story to make me feel better?”
Smiling, I shook my head. “I think my near hysteria on the plane was embarrassment enough for one day.”
He let out a chuckle. “You weren’t that bad.”
He eyed my hands folded together in my lap before looking over my crossed legs. My whole body warmed under his scrutiny and maybe that kind of excitement wasn’t overrated. Or maybe they had dumped part of my sanity along with the fuel on the plane. Because I didn’t do…whatever we were doing. Didn’t flirt with men I barely knew—if that’s what this was. But as his tongue snuck out and licked across his bottom lip, the image of my tongue following that same path—biting that lip—ran through my mind. I shook my head, trying to stop the direction my thoughts were heading.
I might not have wanted to share an embarrassing story, but I did have something else I could share. Leaning down to reach into my handbag on the floor, I grabbed the Tupperware box from inside. I’d packed a sandwich and snacks in case I got hungry on the flight to avoid having to eat the airline food. Removed the lid and pulled out the tinfoil-wrapped brownies I’d baked. Peeling back the tinfoil, I offered one to Beck.
“Oh, those smell delicious. I’m starving.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm. That kind of reaction to my baking was another reason I loved it so much. It was more than making a treat or something to fill your stomach. My cakes could cheer people up after a bad day. Invoke childhood memories of baking with family or celebrations of happy times.
Beck wrapped his long fingers around the piece on top and lifted it towards his mouth. Moaned around the bite he took. A moan that had me preening, head tilting towards him as I ran the silky length of my ponytail through my hand.
“Oh God, that tastes divine. Almost a shame to eat it when it looks like a piece of art. You have to tell me where you bought these from.”
Those words brought a satisfied smile to my face. I may have got slightly carried away decorating them with white chocolate finely drizzled over the top in a criss-cross pattern. Milk, white, and dark chilli-infused chocolate grated curls along the edges, but it had been fun. “Sorry, but you can’t buy them. I made them.” Beck’s eyebrows rose as his lips wrapped around the brownie to take another bite. His tongue darted out to catch a crumb, and I had to stop my tongue from mirroring his movement.
“Seriously, you made these?” I nodded. “Okay, you need to be selling them because they are the best brownies I’ve ever tasted.”
I was sure he was exaggerating but still, his words made me sit a little taller and had my chin lifting. He popped the rest of it into his mouth and licked his fingers clean.
“Can I have another?”
I offered the package out to him. “Of course.” As he took a bite, he eyed me speculatively.
“So, no boyfriend waiting at home or in Malta for you then?”
My gaze flicked to his, then quickly away. No way was a guy that looked like him interested in me. Not that it mattered if he was. We were stuck in the middle of an airport surrounded by dozens of people. And hopefully getting back on a plane soon before I lost my nerve and headed home instead. But then I’d never find out who my biological dad was.
“No. No boyfriend waiting anywhere for me.” I snuck a quick glance at his left hand resting on his thigh, but his fingers were bare. “What about you? I mean girlfriend. No girlfriend?”
His lips slowly lifted into that cheeky grin I liked far too much already as he shook his head.
“No, no boyfriend waiting for me. Or girlfriend for that matter.”
My cheeks probably matched the colour of my crimson shirt, but I was saved from embarrassing myself further when a woman dressed in the blue airline uniform stopped in front of us.
“Hi. Ooh, those look delicious. Sorry, I’m letting everyone know that we can’t get another plane here tonight, so the flight’s been cancelled. If you report to our customer service desk out in the main building, they can help you reclaim your luggage and get you booked on another flight tomorrow. And if you need accommodation for the night, they’ll explain how you can claim the cost b
ack.”
I groaned and she gave me a rueful smile.
“I know. We’re sorry, but there’s nothing else we can do.”
She wandered off to speak to the other passengers, and I checked my watch. Great, it was almost midnight. By the time I found my luggage and sorted out a new flight, it would be ridiculously early in the morning. And it would take at least an hour for me to get home depending on how long I’d have to wait for a taxi at that time of the morning.
“Have you got luggage checked in?”
Beck’s question stopped my petulant musings. “Yeah. Have you?”
He held out his arm. “Yes. Let’s go track it down and sort out another flight.”
I stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment before I grasped hold of it. Gently, he pulled me to my feet.
This was quickly becoming one of the most bizarre nights of my life. But I grabbed my bag and followed him out of the lounge anyway.
Chapter Four
The conveyor belt started up with a clunk. As I watched the black belt snake its way between the waiting clumps of passengers, I tried to work out what I should do. We had both been booked onto another flight at 6 a.m. the following day—no, it was the same day, only five and half hours to wait. If I went home, that would be two hours travelling. But I had to be back an hour before the flight was due, which would leave me two and a half hours at home. Which was pointless. No way would I sleep for any of that time. Even though tiredness had seeped into my bones, I doubted I’d get my brain to switch off.
Trying to get a room at the airport hotel was an indulgence I couldn’t afford for a five-and-a-half-hour wait. I might as well crash in the lounge as I suspected a few others would.
“That was a big sigh. Everything okay?”
I hadn’t realised I’d voiced my internal musings. Beck stepped forward as the first suitcase finally appeared on the conveyor belt.
“Yeah. Just trying to decide if I should go home or crash somewhere in the departure lounge, that’s all.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. Stared without uttering a word for a long moment. Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, I let my attention wander over to the luggage making its way around.