Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Audric’s a strong man,” Posy admitted, his eyes laser focusing in on me. “Don’t hurt him.”
I flinched. “I’m past that point in my life. I’m not scared or angry at him anymore. In fact, he’s quickly becoming something more.” I turned to look at the two Ingram men staring at each other. “I thought that he was the bad guy. I was wrong, and I missed out on a lot of years with him when he needed me the most. I’m not going to keep making the same mistake.” I blew out a disgusted breath. “I hate myself for thinking he’d do something so sick anyway.”
It didn’t surprise me that Posy knew.
“The mind plays tricks during times of high stress. I’m sure you were confident. Kind of like how he was confident in what he saw.” Posy shook his head. “My suggestion? Let go of the past. Focus on your future.” He stared at me for a long moment. “And know that we’re fucking loyal. He’s our boy, and he’s gone through a lot.”
I knew what he wasn’t saying.
They wouldn’t hesitate to ruin me if I hurt him.
But I was confident in myself. “I won’t hurt him.”
He nodded. “Let’s go save them from all those dark and broody looks they’re giving each other.”
We walked back over to Audric and his dad when Posy called out, “Now you can stop acting like you’re not in love with a woman halfway across the world.”
Carter whipped his head around to glare at Posy.
“Ahh.” I nodded. “The pineapple lady.”
Carter’s eyes came to me.
“They were really good pineapples,” I admitted. “I’m sorry I ate one, but I totally replaced it.”
Fifteen
What essential oil is best to get people to stop talking to you?
—Creole to Audric
CREOLE
I’d never felt so happy in my life, and it had everything to do with the man who was currently on the phone with me, trying to talk me into a date.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “But I seriously can’t. I have to work, and as the senior flight attendant in charge, they need me. There aren’t enough experienced flight attendants anymore for me to just take the day off.”
He growled with barely any heat. “What if I went with you?”
I thought about that for a moment before saying, “I think I could make that happen. If you really wanted to. I’m allowed to get a discount on airfare for friends and family. I can get you on a flight with me…but that’s a long rotation. Are you sure you want to do that? You have that huge project going on at work right now.”
“That’s the benefit of being the big boss,” he pointed out.
“I’ll see what I can get set up,” I relayed as I ended the call.
For weeks we’d been playing this back-and-forth game, and my heart was all there for it.
I loved that he was taking it slow with me.
I loved even more that he didn’t seem impatient or upset in any way.
I also liked that he was upfront about where we both knew this was going.
Just last night we’d had a talk about what he wanted—and that was me.
He said he’d take me any way he could get me, and we’d move at whatever pace that I was comfortable with.
Which meant that it was time to tell him about Patty.
Speaking of Patty, I reached out and sent out a quick text to check in with him.
Me:
Hey, Patty. You doing okay? Haven’t heard from you in a week.
Patty:
Doing okay. Work. Kids. Uprisings. The usual. How is the new guy?
I smiled.
Patty knew my ‘new guy’ wasn’t necessarily a ‘new guy.’
He also knew that I needed a fresh start sometimes, and that was his way of checking in with me and feeling my pulse.
Me:
Doing really well. I’m trying to get him on the flight with me tonight.
Speaking of Patty, not only was he a good friend, but he was also a pilot.
He was the one who got me the job with the airlines that I worked for.
Patty:
So I’ll get to meet him tonight?
Me:
Yep. If I can get him on the flight and it’s not overbooked.
Patty:
Leave it to me.
I smiled.
Me:
See you tonight.
I knew he would.
Despite what it should be, pilots had way more pull and clout than flight attendants. They got to get the first picks on extra seats, whereas the rest of us low-life flight personnel got what was left—if there was any.
I smiled as I picked up my phone and dialed the number that was saved in my contacts as ‘psychiatrist.’
Since I was going to bare all tonight, I needed to do more.
I needed to get back to fixing myself, and the first step was following up with the new psychiatrist’s office to find out why they weren’t calling me back to schedule an appointment.
“Dr. Casta’s office,” a pleasant female voice answered. “How may I help you?”