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Igesture towards the window seat, enjoying the closeness as Abby steps past. The scent of something floral hits me; it’s such a feminine scent and quite at odds with her tough girl demeanour. I want to bury my face in her neck and inhale deeply, but we’re on a plane, and there’s a queue of people waiting to take their seats, so I settle in my own seat and stow my laptop bag. We’re in the business section of the plane near the front, and I’m grateful for the extra room. I stretch my legs out in front of me as I draw in another breath, trying to catch another whiff of her scent.

It feels like a boon that we got here. After that little heart-to-heart at the bar the other day, I assumed she would use work as an excuse for not being able to come.

But I’d managed to get a short word with Tom on my way out the other day andsuggestedhe consider giving her a couple of days off, given all the extra time she’d been putting in. He’d looked relieved when I said it, which seemed odd, before he’dadded that it was usually impossible for him to convince her to take time off, and he would happily arrange to cover all her shifts so she could get the break she deserved.

Her text had arrived a few hours after I left her. Short and simple.

Abby:

Time booked off. I can come.

I’d booked the flights then and there, in the middle of a meeting with the site foreman and representatives from all the trades working on The Juniper. Sent the confirmation through within fifteen minutes, so she had no time to change her mind and take it back. She doesn’t strike me as someone who goes back on their word, but I figured the flight confirmation would help lock it all in.

“You need to let me know how much I owe you for the flights and travel,” she says from beside me. “The confirmation didn’t list it.”

No, it didn’t, because I purposely cropped it out.

“I had some credit to use. Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. She pouts but is distracted when the flight attendant comes by and offers us a drink.

We place our orders before Abby says, “I didn’t even know they did business class on these short hops. You shouldn’t have wasted your credit on me—I don’t need this much legroom.”

“Well, I do, so you’re stuck up here with the leather reclining seats and complimentary snacks and drinks,” I tell her with a grin. Although the bigger seats mean we are further apart when I’m itching to touch her.

“I guess I’ll cope. It’s just over an hour, right?”

I nod. “We’ll be there before you know it. I should have asked. Are you a confident flyer?”

“We’ll find out soon,” she says with a grimace.

“What? You’ve not flown before?”

She shakes her head before adding in a teasing tone. “And I fear you’ve spoiled me for future trips by splashing yourcrediton business class seats. I can’t possibly do economy now.” Her sarcastic tone lets me know she’s not daft and probably realises I paid, but fuck it, she makes me smile. Why can’t I buy her a plane ticket? Surprise skitters through me that this is her first flight and makes me want to take her further afield.

“I had you down as a well-seasoned traveller,” I tell her.

“I’ve travelled around the UK and taken the ferry across to France and Belgium before, but no air travel as yet.”

“How no?” She frowns at the Scottish phrase. “Why not?” I switch to the more common one.

“I’ve just not really had the opportunity. It wasn’t an option when I was growing up. We didn’t have enough money for luxuries. And since I was old enough to work, I’ve been busy doing that and getting my own place.” She pauses, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she stares into space. “Since I’ve worked at the bar, I’ve managed to build some savings, but I’m always wondering if my mum is going to need to be bailed out.” She gives a shrug. Her need for independence becomes more understandable to me the more I learn about her family and upbringing. And my heart warms every time she opens up to me. “What about you? Are you well-travelled?”

“Aye, I guess so. I’ve travelled a bit for work and pleasure as well.”

“What’s the furthest place you’ve been to?”

Her face is angled towards mine, and I want to reach across and kiss her. Curiosity on her face makes her one hundred times hotter. Possibly only topped by her feistiness.

“Probably New Zealand. I had a gap year and visited a few places, but that was the furthest.”

“Oh wow, did you enjoy it?”

“Loved it. Would go back in a heartbeat.” I glance at her, and the desire to offer to take her one day rises in me. But I tamper it down, not wanting to scare her off.

We buckle in and listen to the safety demonstration while we sip our drinks, and then Abby grabs my knee as the plane taxis for take-off. As the speed increases, so does her grip. My hand swamps hers as I try to offer comfort.

I lean closer and whisper, “It’s okay, this is all normal. Look, we’re lifting off.”

Her gaze is riveted out the window as the ground gets further away, and mine is focused solely on her. In all the time I’ve known her now, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her display fear or weakness, but there’s a vulnerability showing today. Not for the first time, I find myself wanting to gather her up in a giant hug and keep her safe from the world. And yet, I think her natural response to that would be to fight me. Fuck, if that doesn’t heat my blood a bit. I love her tenacity and her courage.