Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I’ve never had that kind of reaction to a man before. I mean, sure, I’ve had a couple of guys cause my pulse to race, but I’ve never felt like this.
“Have you seen that guy before?” Joslyn asks quietly in her British accent as the plane backs out, and I shake my head. “He’s fit.” She peeks around the wall of the kitchen to look down the aisle, and I bite my bottom lip. “His friends are fit too.” She looks back at me. “Too bad I don’t have time for a man.” She sighs, then asks, “Are you ready?”
“Yep,” I lie as we start to taxi toward the runway, and she gives me a reassuring smile before heading to the middle of the plane.
I take a deep breath, then grab the mic from its place on the wall and press the button on the side as I exit my hiding spot, avoiding the man I swear I can feel watching me.
After I go through the entire spiel I have memorized about safety and seatbelts, I return the mic and start down the aisle to check that everyone has their seatbelt on and that no one is on their phone. Stopping at a young mom with her infant son on her lap, I smile and remind her that in case of an emergency to put on her own mask before she puts on his, and she nods.
My pulse begins to flutter as I feel the man behind her watching me.
Absolutely ridiculous.
I’m a professional. I will not let my strange reaction to a man distract me from doing my job.
When I reach his seat, I don’t look him in the eye, even though I can feel his gaze hot on my face. I check his lap to confirm his seatbelt is locked, then check his friends, who are all seated in the aisle seats around him and move on.
I feel triumphant when I turn to walk back to the front of the plane. But that emotion only last about two-point-five seconds, because my heel gets snagged on something, and I stumble forward. I try to make purchase with my hands on the top of the seats on either side while avoiding knocking anyone out, but before I can, a bulky arm shoots out and catches me around the waist.
“Easy,” he says, and after righting myself, I swing my head to the left, and piercing blue eyes lock on mine. “You okay?”
No. Obviously, I need my head examined. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” I turn and see a young girl grab her bag, the handle of which had been in the aisle and caused me to trip.
“It’s okay,” I assure her quickly, then look around at everyone staring at me. My cheeks heat in response to the attention. “Hopefully, this will be the most exciting part of our flight today.”
Everyone laughs, and with a deep breath, I walk to the front of the cabin to let Douglas know the plane is secure. Taking a seat in my jump chair I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m able to hide and pull myself together for at least a few minutes while we take off.
When we reach cruising altitude, I set my Kindle aside and unhook myself from my seat as Douglas comes over the intercom, letting everyone know the flight time and that we might have some turbulence, so they should stay seated with their seatbelts buckled.
With this flight lasting less than two hours, we only offer a drink service, so Joslyn and I begin to get the drink cart in order. As we’re loading up, I hear the heartbreaking sound of the baby starting to cry and look down the aisle at the mom I spoke to earlier. I can tell she’s stressed just from looking at her, and I know that stress has less to do with the fact that her boy is crying and more so that everyone’s looking at her. Like she wouldn’t quiet him if she could.
“Do you got this?” I ask Joslyn, and after getting her nod, I walk to where the mom and her baby are seated, my gaze locking on the man behind her for a brief moment before I focus my attention back on her.
“How old is he?” I ask softly, and her son looks at me with tears streaming down his chubby red cheeks.
“He’s just turned ten months.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rory.”
“Hi, Rory.” I squat down so I’m eye level with him, which is a feat in my skirt. He stops crying and rests his head on his mom’s shoulder as he studies me. “You are adorable.” I reach my hand out, and he wraps his tiny fist around it. “Do your ears hurt?” I ask, pointing to my own ear and making a sad face. He nods, and I look at his mom. “Do you have a passy or bottle for him? Sometimes that helps with the pressure.”