by Janice Lynn
“McKenzie.” His tone was softer, coaxing even, this time. “Open your eyes.”
She did so, meeting his gaze, and forcing herself not to look away.
“You’re afraid of flying?”
“What gave you that idea?” she ground out between clenched teeth.
He grinned, then surprised her by prying her fingers from their death grip on his arm and lacing their hands. “You forgot to tell me you were afraid of flying.”
She hadn’t forgotten. She’d just hoped she’d be able to hide her fear. She hadn’t flown in over two years and had hoped her phobia wouldn’t rear its ugly head to the point she wouldn’t be able to control it. Wasn’t that what the tablet she’d taken was supposed to help with?
“Too bad I didn’t forget to make my flight.”
Ryder had the audacity to laugh. “Now, now. You wouldn’t want to miss your cousin’s wedding.”
“Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce,” she spouted, thinking her hand would soon be so clammy it would slip right out of his hold. “I should just take my chances that this won’t last, and she’ll think me brilliant for not wasting my time.”
“Such a cynic,” Ryder mused, studying her so intently that for a moment his looking at her rivaled her aviophobia.
“A realist.” The plane started moving, building momentum as it sped down the runway. Unfortunately, McKenzie’s stomach stayed behind. “Oh, God.”
“Praying is good.”
If McKenzie wasn’t sure she was about to die, she’d scold Ryder for making fun of her.
Only her heart was beating as if it thought it had to power the engine to lift the plane off the ground and was doing its best to meet the burgeoning demand.
Five hours.
Five hours she’d be stuck inside this plane thirty or so thousand feet in the air, defying gravity.
Hopefully defying gravity.
She sucked in a breath.
Or more like she tried to suck in a breath, but nothing happened. No air filled her lungs. Just more and more panic taking over as her stomach was lost somewhere on the airstrip.
She couldn’t breathe, felt increasing light-headedness.
She was going to die from lack of oxygen on a 747 Jumbo Jet.
Her mind started going hazy as her lungs refused to adjust to accommodate her body’s need for oxygen.
“Help,” she squeaked out, trying to convey to Ryder that she was a goner.
Not sure what he could do, what anyone could do at this point as they barreled down the runway, she let go of his hand and went for her seatbelt, thinking maybe if she loosened it from where it constricted around her waist, she’d be able to get in a breath.
It didn’t make sense that the strap at her waist prevented air from entering her lungs, but she fumbled with the latch, planning to free herself, and do who knew what?
Ryder’s hand covered hers before she could work the latch loose.
Still, her insides shook as panic threatened to implode within her.
She couldn’t do this.
McKenzie lifted her gaze, planning to tell him as much.
She stared straight into honey-brown eyes that were close, closer than they’d ever been, and they stared back.
Eyes that momentarily stole her breath even further, sparking a new plethora of emotions deep inside her.
They searched hers, seeing everything within her, she was sure, knowing she was wondering what it would feel like to lose herself in those eyes while kissing him.
His lips were even closer. As close as they could possibly be as they covered her own in a kiss.
She should pull back.
She should slap him or do something, right?
Wasn’t she supposed to be clamoring for freedom from the plane? For oxygen?
Only oxygen didn’t seem so important with Ryder’s mouth covering hers, coaxing her to return his kiss as his gaze stayed locked with hers.
She hadn’t planned to kiss him, but her lips were doing just that. How could they not when he was so irresistible?
Good grief. She was kissing her pretend boyfriend.
Who she’d thought didn’t like her.
He must, though. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed to this crazy wedding trip.
Or be kissing her, right?
Whether she wanted to give a response or not, his lips were firm against hers, delighted by her reaction.
McKenzie reacted. Oh, how her insides were reacting to Ryder’s mouth on hers.
If she’d ever wondered, which she hadn’t, not even in her wildest dreams, now she knew.
Dr. Ryder Andrews was excellent at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
CHAPTER FIVE
RYDER HAD WITNESSED only a few panic attacks during his lifetime, but he’d seen the alarm in McKenzie’s eyes moments before they’d squeezed shut, had watched her frantic movements, and knew he had to do something to defuse the situation.
He hadn’t planned on kissing her.
He’d meant to take her hand into his and offer reassurance. Instead, when her lips had started moving toward him, he’d instinctively pressed his lips to them.
Bold, perhaps wrong, but the terror on her face had disappeared almost instantly, replaced with surprise. Any moment he expected a new wave of panic to fill her eyes when she registered that they were kissing.
Panic was filling him that they were kissing.
Because his automatic reaction of wanting to soothe her, to stop her anxiety, might destroy everything.
Fortunately, the fear didn’t return in those gorgeous green eyes.
Instead, her gaze darkened with curiosity. Soft, pliable lips willingly met his.
Which might explain the mounting panic in his own gut.
What was he doing kissing McKenzie?
She was using him for the weekend. He knew upfront that he was nothing more than a means to an end.
Kissing her before they’d taken off the ground might not have been his smoothest move.
Because she was kissing him back and that edgy sensation in his stomach wasn’t because the plane had lifted off and was ascending at a rapid rate.
He was miles high in ways that had nothing to do with leaving the ground.
He and McKenzie were kissing.
Holding her gaze, his grip on her hand eased, cupping her face instead as he explored the recesses of her pliant mouth, thrilling as she continued to kiss him.
When he pulled away, he stared into her hazy eyes, and waited to see what she’d say. Would she think he’d taken advantage of her near panic attack?
She inhaled a deep breath and stunned him by saying, “Someone should market that.”
Not even close to what he’d expected her to say about their kiss.
She took a quick glance out the window, then nervously back toward him. “I didn’t even notice when the plane lifted off the ground. That’s amazing. Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome?” Ryder blinked, not quite sure how to take her gratitude. McKenzie kissing him back had sucker punched him, leaving his head in the same state she’d been in as the plane had started taxiing—a panicked mess.
Kissing her was dangerous when he had no intention of having a real relationship with her.
She still looked a little addled, but not as she’d been before.
“But I’m not sure how that particular technique could be marketed without a whole lot of backlash.”
She took a few deep breaths, but her color remained good. “You’re probably right, but I still say you should go for it.”
Which is what he’d done. Gone for it and kissed McKenzie.
“Sorry,” he said and meant it. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Her brows veed and she waved away his apology as
if the kiss had been no big deal. “You saved me from succumbing to the panic behemoth that grips me at takeoff. Yet something else I owe you for, which I don’t like, but thank you for saving me on this, too.”
She acted as if the kiss hadn’t meant anything.
Ryder wasn’t sure if he was grateful or offended that she’d dismissed their kiss so readily.
Offended.
Definitely offended.
His insides were shattered at the electricity their kiss had sparked to life, and she was being flippant about their kiss.
Which was good as he shouldn’t have kissed a woman who was vulnerable over having just gotten out of a long-term relationship. You’d think his having mentioned Anna would have been enough to have had him keeping his mouth to himself.
“Now, can you do that for the next five hours until we land?”
Ryder blinked. He couldn’t have heard McKenzie correctly.
Before he could respond, she laughed. “I’m kidding, of course, and am mostly just rambling on to distract myself from the fact that we’re in the air. I detest flying.”
Under different circumstances, Ryder wouldn’t have minded kissing her for the next five hours. Circumstances that didn’t involve him being the rebound guy.
McKenzie might need a distraction from her fear of flying, but he needed a distraction from their kiss. He’d ponder at how well they fit together and what he was going to do about it later, when he wasn’t sitting beside her, when the sweet taste of her lips didn’t linger, when she wasn’t looking at him as if she really did want him to kiss her again.
She settled back into her seat, closed her eyes, and took several deep, measured breaths that told him she wasn’t as over her anxiety as she let on.
Either that, or his kiss had shaken her more than she’d said. His guess was on the flight being the cause, though.
“Have you always been afraid to fly, McKenzie?”
She grimaced and didn’t open her eyes as she said, “Since I was six.”
Six. That was specific, but it wasn’t so much her words as how the color had drained from her face that had him curious.
“What happened when you were six?”
* * *
Would Ryder understand if McKenzie said she didn’t want to talk about the reasons why she hated flying?
Because she never, ever, ever talked about why.
Which made her next words surprise her as much as they must have him.
“My dad died in a plane crash.”
Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she felt Ryder’s movement in the seat next to her, wasn’t surprised when his hand covered hers again. Strong, warm, talented hands that repaired his patients’ hearts.
If only he could repair all the broken things about hers.
“I’m sorry, McKenzie.”
“Me, too,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed as if that could somehow block out that she’d told him what she’d never told Paul.
Why was that?
She’d planned to marry Paul. Ryder was just a colleague who was pretending to be her boyfriend for a weekend wedding. No. Big. Deal.
Only his kiss had been a big deal.
Sure, the flip-flops her belly had done were likely the result of the plane lifting off the ground and nothing to do with his kiss. But Ryder had done what she’d have argued was impossible. He’d distracted her through takeoff.
She might make him a permanent travel accessory.
“What happened?”
She let out a slow breath, trying to push some of her sorrow out along with the air. His was a natural question, just not one she wanted to answer at any time, much less while ascending to thirty thousand feet.
“I suppose now is the worst possible time for me to ask, eh?” He made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “I really am sorry, McKenzie.”
“It was a long time ago.” Although that day, the aftermath, was heavily imprinted upon her mind to where she could relive the tragedy daily in vivid detail if she’d allow herself to. She didn’t.
She certainly wouldn’t allow the memories to take hold while on a plane.
“He was a pilot.” Hello! Where had that admission come from? What was she doing? She did not want to talk about this.
Opening her eyes, she glanced toward Ryder, saw the empathy and interest in his gaze, and heard herself tell him things she didn’t normally say out loud.
Normally?
She never said them out loud.
Never. Ever. Ever. Not to anyone.
“Dad owned a small plane and gave flight lessons.” Once upon a time she’d loved to fly. She’d been too young to know any better. “He thought he was invincible.” She paused, swallowed the lump in her throat. “He wasn’t.”
Ryder’s thumb brushed over her hand in a soothing caress. “You were six?”
More aware of his touch than she should be, especially given their conversation, she nodded. “My brother was ten.”
Ryder’s brow lifted. “You have a brother?”
Despite the waterworks threatening to spill from her eyes, she laughed at the surprise in Ryder’s voice. “When I claim him.”
“You’ve never mentioned a brother.”
“There are a lot of things I’ve never mentioned to you,” she reminded him. “We’re work colleagues. Why would I tell you about my personal life?”
Ryder’s silence felt heavy between them.
“That may have been true in the past,” he finally said. “But now I’m your pretend boyfriend so you should spend the next five hours filling me in on what I need to know for us to pull this off.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she admitted, her mind racing through all the things she’d dwelled on since he’d agreed to go with her to Tennessee. “We should stick to the truth.”
“You’ve changed your mind about our pretending to date each other?”
Was that excitement she saw on his face? Maybe he really did regret the fiasco he found himself in.
“No, not about that,” she shook her head, “although I understand if you want out.”
“I don’t want out,” he assured her. “This is way more interesting than my previous weekend plans.”
Which made her wonder just what his weekend plans had been? What had he been willing to give up so that he could go with her to a wedding celebrating people he’d never heard of until a few days ago?
“Good.” She sighed her relief. “My family knew I was dating Paul, that he and I had been together for years. They expected us to eventually marry.” They could still marry if they got a second chance. “They’ll be shocked we broke up.” McKenzie was shocked they’d broken up. “They won’t question that you and I are a recent development. As such, we won’t be expected to know everything about each other.”
“True, but there are some things, as a couple, that we should know,” he pointed out.
Curious, she asked, “Such as?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue,” she answered without hesitation, frowning at him. “Boring question.”
He ignored her jab. “Why blue?”
“Because it’s the color of the sky.”
“This coming from a girl who’s afraid to fly.”
“Woman,” she corrected. “Woman who is afraid to fly. There’s no shame in my fear. Lots of people prefer keeping their feet on the ground and I have a good reason for my dislike.”
“Agreed.” After a moment, he added, “Green.”
She cut her gaze toward him.
“Because it’s the color of new beginnings.”
As in this weekend? she wondered, then frowned at her thought. This wasn’t a new beginning.
“And because it’s the color of your eyes.”
The color of her.
.. McKenzie’s breath caught, and her stomach clenched much as it had when he’d kissed her.
Pulling her hand from his, she frowned. “You don’t need to lay it on so thick. I’d prefer believable to syrupy sweet with saccharine drizzled on top.”
“Nothing thick about saying I like the color of your eyes when I do like the color of your eyes.” He settled back into his seat and pulled up the article he’d been engrossed in earlier.
She stared at him, not quite sure what to think, especially when he added, “You have great eyes, McKenzie.”
* * *
McKenzie swiped at something tickling her nose. As she did so, noises penetrated the hazy world of sleep she dwelt in, stirring her to wakefulness.
She opened her eyes, realized she was pressed up against Ryder’s strong shoulder, and that there was a drool spot on his shirt.
Her drool.
Yikes.
She sat up, pretended a poise she didn’t possess as she got her bearings and wiped her mouth.
She was sitting next to Ryder in a plane speeding toward Nashville.
Only there were no clouds out the window.
Just lights and other planes breaking up the darkness.
They’d landed!
She glanced at the time on her fitness watch. Good grief. She’d slept through most of the flight and the landing.
How had that happened?
She was glad she’d slept through it.
Only she winced at the tiny damp spot on Ryder’s sleeve.
Realizing he was watching her, she grimaced. “Please tell me I didn’t snore.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Only a little.”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if she truly had. She didn’t suppose it mattered with a pretend boyfriend.
It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress him.
Only he was a coworker, quite gorgeous, and thought she had great eyes, so it wasn’t wrong to want to not totally embarrass herself.
She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep.
Then again, she’d not slept well since prior to her breakup with Paul. Still, never would she have dreamed she could sleep on a plane.
She gave Ryder a look of gratitude. “Thank you.”