Page 2 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

At First Flight

? Starting Over - Chris Stapleton

Two Years Later

Wilder

Deep breath in, long breath out.

Is it too much to ask for some kind of flight upgrade that includes sedation? Fuck first class, I’d pay to be unconscious. We’re not even in the air yet and I’m already on the verge of losing my shit.

Attempting to distract myself from every worst-case scenario running through my mind, I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text to my mother-in-law.

Wilder: How’s my girl?

Caroline: Perfect as always.

A minute or so later, a video message comes in. Emmy’s sitting on the floor of her playroom, flipping through a board book. She’s surrounded by her pile of stuffed animals like she’s about to read them a story. She can’t read, but don’t tell her that.

Caroline’s voice comes through the speaker. “Say hi to Daddy, Emmy Lou.”

Emmy glances up at the camera. “Hi, Daddy.” She waves enthusiastically. The smile on her chubby face is exactly what I needed to set my mind at ease. I replay the video, wishing I had someone to share it with, and the ache resurfaces. She should be here.

A text from the group chat with my siblings comes in, pulling me from my misery.

Griffin: I’d make a joke about plane crashes, but they never land.

Jaxon: You’re more likely to be struck by lightning than die in a plane crash.

Griffin: Nerd.

Jaxon: Dickhead.

Ruby: Ignore them. Safe travels. Text us when you’re back on solid ground.

Wilder: And y’all wonder why Ruby’s my favorite.

“I’m so sorry, I think this is my seat.”

I look up from my phone, instantly taken aback by the striking blonde woman standing in the aisle. She looks at me expectantly through puffy, bloodshot eyes, but I can still make out the gorgeous shade of blue. She sniffles, her red-tipped nose crinkling.

Despite the mess of mascara trailing down her cheeks, she’s the kind of gorgeous that stops you in your tracks and forces you to take notice.

My eyes trail lower, over soft curves, wide hips, and a round ass I just want to take a bite out of.

Her thighs are just begging to be locked around my head.

Fucking hell, I haven’t felt anything like this since…

A throat clears.

She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes. A line has formed behind her while I’ve been staring.

I grimace. “Right. Sorry. Would you mind switching with me? I really hate sitting by the window.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.”

She glances around nervously, her hands shaking as she struggles to hoist her bright pink duffel into the overhead bin. The man standing behind her purses his lips and checks his watch every five seconds. A tear trails down her cheek as she continues to shove at the bag to no avail.

“Here. It should fit under the seat in front of you.” I gesture for her to hand me the bag, then stow it under the window seat.

She takes two steps back, knocking into the asshole in the suit.

“Watch it, fat ass,” he grumbles.

I don’t think she heard him, but I sure as fuck did, and that shit doesn’t fly with me. My nostrils flare. I’m overcome by the need to jump to her defense.

I lift out of my seat to let her scoot toward the window, resisting every instinct to punch the asshole square in the jaw.

The last thing I need is to be forcibly removed from the plane.

I tower over him by at least a few inches, and I’m not a small guy by any means.

I’m not above using my size to intimidate shitbag men. He looks terrified, and rightfully so.

Once she’s situated, I lean toward the dickhead in question and whisper, “You’re lucky she didn’t fucking hear you. If you so much as look at my girl one more fucking time, I’ll beat your ass and throw you out the emergency exit. Got it?”

He swallows thickly, fixing his gaze on the floor before he scurries to the back of the plane.

“Oh, I heard him. And you, for that matter.”

“Excuse me?” I fold myself into the seat, my knees bumping the back of the chair in front of me.

The goddess beside me sighs and tucks her coat away with her carry-on, leaving her in a skirt that’s practically molded to her figure and a simple white V-neck tee.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been called a fat ass. Won’t be the last. I’m Olivia, by the way. If you’re going to be my man, you should at least know my name.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice as she offers me her dainty hand, her long fingernails tipped white. No ring.

“Your man?”

“I know it’s been a few seconds since the dick weasel in the suit disappeared, but you just called me your girl… with a very impressive threat tacked on at the end. Think he might’ve pissed himself a little.”

I bark out a laugh for what feels like the first time in years, the sound almost foreign to my ears. Has it really been that long since I’ve truly laughed? Yeah. I guess it has.

“I’m Wilder.” I take her hand in mine, her soft skin a stark contrast against my calloused palm. I don’t want to let go.

Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I was touched like this. Emmy is affectionate, but it usually comes with some kind of bodily fluid or mysteriously sticky substance attached. I love my daughter, but she’s a hot mess on the best of days.

I’ve been raising her on my own for the past two years, and that’s been hard enough without adding dating into the mix.

Even if I wanted to, my grief wouldn’t let me.

The constant, dull ache is a reminder of everything I lost. One night changed my entire life, and I’ll never be able to get it back.

It wouldn’t be fair to put that burden on a new relationship.

“Where are you headed, Wilder? Is Nashville your final destination?” My name sounds sinful on her perfect, pink lips, and I momentarily forget how to speak. She arches a brow, and the crooked smile she gives me is like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.

“Back to my hometown.” I assume this stranger won’t know shit about a little Kentucky town called Oak Ridge, so I don’t mention it by name. “What about you?”

“Same.” She sighs. “Running back with my tail tucked between my legs, bracing myself for the inevitable ‘I told you so’ from my parents.”

Olivia fidgets with her seatbelt, attempting to get it over her lap, but it’s at least a good inch and a half too short. She mutters a curse, and her cheeks flush the most beautiful shade of pink. I scan the cabin, flagging down the flight attendant.

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?” The flight attendant places a hand on my forearm in a flirty way that pisses me the fuck off.

I casually pull away and lean in.“Can we get a seatbelt extender, please?”

Taking the hint, a professional mask slips into place. “Absolutely. I’ll be right back.”

Olivia is tugging at a thread hanging off her skirt when the attendant returns.

She palms the belt between her hands and quietly passes it over with a kind smile and a nod.

Without a word, I discreetly slide it over to Olivia.

Our fingertips brush, and the simple touch sends a zing of electricity shooting up my arm.

She whispers a broken “thank you.” I can’t help but grasp her wrist and slide my thumb over her pulse point.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’. The belt needs to fit you, not the other way around. ”

She gives me a wobbly smile as it clicks into place, and her posture relaxes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve flown. I forgot…

” Breathing deeply, she shakes her head and trails off.

“Sometimes I forget that the world isn’t made for people like me.

” She’s matter-of-fact in the way she says it, her confidence never wavering.

It’s more like she’s annoyed by the inconvenience of it all.

“People like you?”

“You know…”

“Beautiful women?”

She giggles and fuck if that sound doesn’t make my dick stand at attention.

“Thanks. But I can be both fat and beautiful—those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Who the hell is this angel, and where did she come from?

Before I can respond, the pilot comes over the speaker, announcing a slight delay in takeoff.

Olivia mumbles something under her breath before pulling out her phone.

I catch a glimpse of the screen as she scrolls through a string of heated text messages from someone named Jake.

I’m unable to tear my eyes away from the unspoken threat in his words.

Jake: It isn’t what it looked like. Amber came onto me first.

Jake: Come on, Liv. This isn’t you.

Jake: You know you won’t find better in that shitty little town of yours.

Jake: If you don’t come back, we’re done .

When she swipes over to his contact and blocks his number, I’m overcome with an inexplicable swell of pride. What is it about her?

“Enjoy the show?” she asks.

“Would’ve been better with popcorn,” I deadpan. “Is Jake your ex?”

“Yep.” She exaggerates the pop of the P before she continues.

“Caught him fucking my best friend in our bed. We were together for almost three years. Guess that explains why I haven’t gotten laid in six months.

” Her face pales as she finishes her stream of consciousness.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I told you all of that. ”

“Seems to me you could use a friend.”

What is wrong with me? I don’t have friends . I have annoying ass siblings, sickeningly sweet parents, and a feral toddler. I don’t do friendship. Not since Jess.

Olivia huffs out a breath. “I’m not sure how to have friends anymore. I gave everything to Jake and Amber, and look how that turned out. My dumbass was waiting for a fucking proposal, but he was balls deep in my best friend for God knows how long.”

“It probably wasn’t that long. Thirty seconds, maybe a minute tops, judging by his limp dick text messages.”

She snorts out a laugh, and her eyes crinkle at the corners.

In a gentler tone, I add, “They were never your friends—not if they could hurt you like that.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow. Did you learn that in therapy?”