Winter's Thaw (2 page)

This time, Maggie did roll her eyes, and let out an audible sigh that felt really good.
Yes, just for you, lady, we’ll put an extra row in the plane.
Her head was really starting to pound.

“Honey,” Mr Ingram timidly chimed in. “Why don’t you take the first-class seat? I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do!” She rounded on him. “This is ridiculous. Just because you didn’t make sure we had seat assignments when you reserved this trip…” She turned her ire on her husband, and Maggie tried to tune them out, though it was hard at this close range.

The airline employee looked past them to Maggie. “Winter?” he queried, and she nodded. He typed for a few seconds without further comment, then the sound of printing came from under the counter. He reached down and extracted a boarding pass, which he stretched over the counter to pass to Maggie. So simple. She glanced down. Seat two-F.

“Thank you.” She offered the gate attendant her first genuine smile of the day.

And there you have it. Flies, honey, vinegar. Point proven
.

He smiled back and gave her a conspiratorial wink. Maggie strode to the dwindling line to board. She wanted to make sure to get into her seat before the arguing couple realized that the first-class seat was history.

With that distraction gone, she began thinking again about Wade. They’d had a solid marriage up until the past year when things had crumbled. But even during the amicable divorce, which had become final last month, for the most part they’d been able to keep things happy and friendly for Cassie’s sake. After well over two decades together, he was still a huge part of Maggie’s life. Yet she felt completely numb.
Shouldn’t I be crying or something?

Maggie remembered bursting into tears immediately when she’d learned her own dad had died. She’d literally cried for days. Still did sometimes, five years later. But in the unexpected face of her loss today, her eyes remained dry.

She clenched her jaw, miserable and furious with herself.
What the hell’s wrong with me? And why am I even going to Portland now?
She stopped abruptly on her way down the gangway as that thought penetrated. She had forgotten all about deciding she should probably just go back to Mom’s. The sole reason she had been going home was to be with Wade while he was in the hospital. Now…

Maggie groaned. The overwhelming scope of all she suddenly had to do in the next few days began to whirl through her aching head. She pushed it aside and tried to focus on this trip. Might as well go home at this point, she decided wearily. Surely some of the details would be easier to handle there in person rather than over the phone. She finished her descent down the gangway, stepping onto the plane without acknowledging the cheerful generic greeting of the flight attendant.
Two-F
, she recalled, looking to the left at the numbers along the overhead bins then looking down…to meet the now-familiar blue eyes belonging to the man in the aisle seat next to hers.

Blue-Eyes had evidently been watching her approach—she’d caught him in the process of rising from his seat. Her eyes followed him up, her head tilting slightly upward as he continued to rise well past six feet. He’d lost the jacket somewhere along the way, so this time she got a perfect view of his wide, developed chest, well-displayed by his fitted white shirt tucked into those impossibly faded jeans. She forced herself to look away, mentally chiding herself as he stepped into the aisle.

Geez, quit panting like an idiot over this hard, young kid, Maggie Jean. Drooling is very unbecoming at your age. And hardly the time or the place for it.

He made a gentlemanly gesture toward the window seat, and she slid past him, only a breath away from that wall of chest, before twisting to sit heavily. As he settled in next to her, she automatically bent to tuck her purse under the seat. After sitting back up, Maggie slumped as she realized she needed to, at the very least, tell her mom the news. She bent again with a sigh, rummaging for her cell phone.

Blue-Eyes was quiet beside her. There was nothing to keep her from making this call. Nothing except the fact that it would make all of this real.

With another, heavier sigh, she speed-dialed her mom.

“Hello?” The breathy greeting came just when Maggie was sure it would go over to voicemail and she wondered what Cass had roped Grandma into doing.

“Hey, Mom,” she responded. “How’s everything going with Cass?”

“We’re just fine, honey. Finished breakfast a little while ago and we’re playing Scrabble out in the sunroom. Have you heard anything new?”

Maggie took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. She couldn’t believe she had to say this. “He died, Mom.”

“What? Oh, Mags…”

She closed her eyes as her mom’s shocked exclamation was mostly lost under the announcement from the flight attendant telling everyone to stow their electronic devices. “I’ve got to go,” she managed to get out through her tight throat. “I’m on the plane to Portland and they’re closing up. And Mom?” she added quickly. “Please don’t tell Cass yet, okay? I’ll talk to her when I get back in a few days. I…want to do it in person.”

“Oh my God, honey, I’m so, so sorry. Call me as soon as you get home.”

“Okay, will do. Bye, Mom.” Maggie closed the phone, then popped it back open again as another detail occurred to her.
Home
.
Crap, I am so unprepared for all this
.

She dialed her friend. And this time she did get voicemail.
Damn
. “Hey Sam, it’s me. Uh, I’m on my way back home. Long story I don’t want to go into right now, but I was looking for a ride from the airport this afternoon. I’ll just go ahead and grab a taxi or something. I’ll call you later, okay?” She disconnected then turned her phone off and tucked it back into her bag. Now without any connection to the outside world, she would have around four hours of quiet during the flight before she arrived home and had to dive into this mess. Maggie heaved a deep sigh, sagging bonelessly back against the seat. She closed her eyes for a few seconds before the flight attendant made a loud announcement about passengers needing to finish stowing their luggage and take their seats.

When she dragged them back open, she blinked in surprise. She’d nearly forgotten about her seatmate.

Now on rotation for her viewing pleasure were Blue-Eyes’ long legs, stretched out under the seat in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His large, strong hand rested on the armrest between them, long fingers drumming occasionally. He was tan, as though he either worked outdoors or had just spent a lot of time in the sun. For some reason, the way his forearm and hand moved as he fidgeted sent a spike of feeling shooting through her gut.

“Would you like something to drink?” This question was from the flight attendant, as she set a napkin on the area between the armrests, her manicured hand lingering close to Blue-Eyes’ forearm. Unwarranted irritation made Maggie’s mouth tighten as she looked up and found the flight attendant practically in Blue-Eyes’ lap as she bent over him. It had to be against airline regulations to have her shirt unbuttoned that far down.

To Maggie’s shock, Blue-Eyes picked up her own hand, his fingers toying with her diamond engagement ring. She still wore it, even though she no longer kept on her wedding band. After so long, her ring finger felt naked without something on it. She supposed at some point she’d put this one away, too.

He leaned closer to her. “Do you want something?”

Her gaze snapped to his, uncomprehending, as her jaw dropped in shock. There was a teasing glint, but also a bit of sympathy there.
What is he doing?
The strokes of his fingers on hers were doing something wicked to her insides.

“Let’s start with some water. She has a bad headache.” This was directed to the flight attendant. “Do you have anything she can take for the pain?”

Maggie watched as the attendant withdrew to the galley, then turned back to Blue-Eyes. “She’s gone now. You can let go,” she whispered hoarsely, trying in vain to reclaim her hand.

“But she’ll be back,” he murmured. He bent his head toward hers again. His dark hair looked like it had been recently cut in a short, businesslike style with a slight wave, and his chiseled jaw line sported a hint of shadow. His fingers stopped moving, but he continued to hold her hand. Maggie could feel the warmth spreading upwards from her chest to her face as the blush consumed her. How long had it been since she’d sat holding hands like a kid on a date? Wade wasn’t one for PDA. That thought did the sudden smack of reality thing again, which only added to her anxiety.

She turned away to try to get herself under control and could hear Blue-Eyes thanking the flight attendant. She gave a surreptitious tug to her left hand, practically a yank. He refused to relinquish it immediately but gently turned her hand over and placed a small pack containing two pills in her palm.

“Are these okay?” he asked, indicating the medicine in her hand. She glanced down and nodded. He held a glass of water, which he gestured with. “Go ahead.”

She ripped open the package and tipped the pills onto her tongue then reached for the glass. Her fingers brushed his as she took it, and she mentally castigated herself as she swallowed the water.
C’mon, Mags. Hardly a good time to get caught up flirting with some airplane Romeo.

That thought sobered her again, and she knew she had to nip this in the bud as she finished the glass of water and set it down. “Thank you,” she offered blandly, without looking at him.

The heat his attention had set off inside her became overwhelming in combination with the stagnant air of the plane. The circulation didn’t seem to be going—maybe because they were preparing for takeoff. But she needed to cool down, so she shrugged out of the light linen jacket she’d worn, even though summer was in full force, in order to help combat the unpredictable cabin temperatures that could see-saw during flight. She thought about flagging down the over-styled attendant and having her hang it up, but then she’d have to deal with her if she got cold later. She rolled it up loosely and tucked it in the gap between her purse handles. Feeling Blue-Eyes watching her, she pointedly closed her eyes and leaned back.

She continued to sense his regard, but stubbornly refused to acknowledge him and tried to relax. It felt so good to close her eyes. This was her fourth flight in two days.

Her eyes flew open in shock and she gasped as she felt a butterfly-light, glancing touch across her left breast. Her nipples instantly hardened to taut peaks, and she saw Blue-Eyes’ arm as he reached across her chest.

“Sorry. Seatbelt,” he explained as he located the end on the window side, which she had been sitting on. She shifted as he tugged it out from under her ass then buckled her in. “You forgot to fasten it. I thought you were almost asleep. I was really trying not to bother you. Seems like you need the rest.” He gave her one last look, an empathetic one. Of course, he’d overheard her telling Mom about Wade dying. Even if he didn’t know who she’d been talking about, he recognized how it affected her. He’d been nothing but understanding and chivalrous so far, so likely he was telling the truth about not wanting to bother her and not just trying to cop a feel.

That reminded her of her body’s instant reaction to his touch and she inhaled, trying not to look at her chest to see just how prominent her nipples were against her blouse. His eyelashes swept downwards and she could feel the tension seem to ratchet up about ten notches.

She met his eyes again and the empathy had shifted to include a touch of heated appreciation. Maggie squirmed a little under his gaze. Had she ever been on the receiving end of a look like that from a guy like him? Never in her very ordinary life. She closed her eyes again, a little desperately, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to cross her arms across her chest. Apparently, Blue-Eyes finally got the message, since he also settled back into his seat.

Gradually she relaxed, and the plane taxied, made the turn then accelerated toward takeoff. She was hyperaware of her body and could feel her breasts jouncing slightly as the plane moved over the runway. Was he watching? Just the thought made her nipples peak again. A slight movement next to her made her wish for a blanket.

She had thrown together an outfit that morning by grabbing the first few things she pulled out of her suitcase that went together. The bra she had on was a comfortable one of red nylon—pretty and lacy and light, but not exactly the most supportive. Now she wished she had some armor to rein in her wayward breasts, even if it would have been uncomfortable to wear. Her nipples seemed to be eagerly awaiting the next touch.

Party’s over, ladies.

Chapter Two

Nick rested back against the seat, shifting slightly. What was it about this petite woman that made him feel protective and aroused all at once? He had noticed her in the waiting area for the flight and purposely taken the seat next to her. For all the good that had done. He had immediately spied the disappointing presence of her wedding band.
Figures. Of course someone like her is married.
She had barely even noticed him before he caught her as she tripped on his bag.

He had still been thrilled when he’d realized that she was his seatmate for the flight, not that he expected anything more than some conversation. He wasn’t the type to poach, but she looked like she was having a hard time of it, which had also sparked the caregiving side of him. With their proximity, he had had no choice but to eavesdrop on her phone calls, watching in empathy as she had passed along the bad news to her mother. He wasn’t sure who had died, but suspected it was her husband. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world for his earlier resentment of her married state.

Jesus, you’re a creep
.

He should have just left her alone, but there was that air of fragility about her that made him want to ease whatever stress he could from her. Nick wasn’t sure what had possessed him to seize the flimsy excuse provided by the hovering flight attendant to take her hand, except for maybe wishful thinking and the hope that she needed some human contact. She looked so lost. But once he touched her, he just couldn’t stop.