Page 3 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

“Funny, but not exactly. My mom is a therapist, so we were raised with little nuggets of wisdom being thrown our way on a regular basis. I’d like to think a few things resonated over the years.”

The fasten seatbelt sign blinks on, and my body tenses.

I’ve always been a nervous flyer—it’s one of the reasons I road tripped my way to Colorado the first time.

I told Jess I’d meet her there with a U-Haul instead of hiring a moving company, but I just needed an excuse to avoid air travel.

With Emmy in my life, I don’t have the luxury of time, so I opted to fly home while she stays behind in Colorado with Jess’s parents.

I lean back and close my eyes, gripping the armrests, my knuckles blanched and spine rigid as the plane moves down the runway. A delicate hand grasps my wrist, and I turn my head to see beautiful, ocean-blue eyes staring back at me.

“Deep breath. I don’t need you passing out on me. Not now that you’re my only friend,”she teases.

Without thinking, I flip my hand and slide it beneath hers, interlocking our fingers.

Her palm fits so perfectly in mine, and I blink, counting all of the ways this is a bad idea.

The touch is far too intimate, but it grounds me, and I don’t have it in me to pull away.

My heart rate slows. Eventually, the plane evens out until we’re coasting through the sky.

If I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend we’re still on solid ground. I don’t let go when the seatbelt signs turn off, and she doesn’t pull away either. Olivia’s eyes drift shut. Her head lolls to the side, inadvertently resting on my shoulder.

I absently glide my thumb along her palm and let my mind wander back to the last woman I touched like this, toJess’s cold, lifeless hand clasped in mine before that final goodbye. The thought sobers me enough to release Olivia from my grip.

A short while later, the flight attendant stops beside my seat with the rolling cart, offering a small smile as she glances between me and the sleeping beauty still resting on my shoulder. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

“Can I get a Jack and ginger?”

“Sure thing. Anything for your wife?”

Something tugs at my heart at the mention of my wife, and I run my thumb over my empty ring finger. There’s no way she could know my history, but it still pains me all the same. I don’t correct her, though. “We’ll take a water.” =

“Of course.”

As I set the drinks on the fold-out tray, Olivia’s eyelashes flutter open, and she sits bolt upright. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. How long was I out?”

“Only about thirty minutes. I got you some water in case you were thirsty.”

“Thank you. That was really thoughtful.”

“What are friends for?”

Olivia reaches into her purse, producing a set of earbuds, and opens an audiobook app on her phone.

“What are you listening to?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

When the hell did I get so damn nosey?

“Oh, um. It’s a romance book.”

“What’s it about?” I take a sip of my drink as I wait for her answer.

“It’s called Love Between Loathing by M.W. Hartley.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” I pluck one bud out of her ear. “What’s it about, Livie?” The nickname slips out like we’ve been friends for years, but it’s too late to take it back. I’m overstepping so many boundaries.

She bites down on her bottom lip, not meeting my gaze. That’s all the response I need to confirm my suspicions. I place the earbud in my right ear, and the first thing I hear is an exaggerated moan, followed by a husky male voice.

“That’s it. You’re being such a good girl. Tell me how much you want this.”

Olivia scrambles to turn it off, but I reach out and capture her hands in my palm, trapping her phone between them. “Don’t you dare. It was just getting good.”

“Oh my God,” she squeals, placing the phone between her thick thighs as she hides her face in her hands. “Could this day possibly get any worse? Please just put me out of my misery.”

As if my hand has a mind of its own, I reach over to sweep some of her honey blonde hair off her shoulder and lean in right next to her ear.

“Why would I do that, when you could be a v ery good girl for me and let me find out just how much she wants it?” I deliberately lower my tone, speaking slowly.

“You know, because friends share things like that.”

My breath fans over the bare expanse of her neck, and she gasps, goose bumps erupting along her creamy skin.

“Mmm. You smell like cupcakes,” I murmur.

She shivers, and a deep blush crawls its way up her body from beneath the white tee. I wish I could find out just how far down it goes.

Fucking hell, Wilder. What are you thinking?

She turns slowly, pulling the earbud away from her ear. “You’re dangerous,” she whispers.

“How so?”

“With a voice like that, you could bring a woman to her knees.”

“Do you want to get on your knees for me, Cupcake?” We’re locked in a stare down as my words hang between us, her lips slightly parted.

Our stolen moment is interrupted when the pilot comes over the speaker for the second time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are currently experiencing a system malfunction. Out of an abundance of caution, we will be diverting to Memphis International Airport. We will be landing in approximately fifteen minutes. Please remain seated and with your seatbelts fastened. We will keep you advised about the continuation of this flight to our destination as information becomes available. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding.”

Hushed voices fill the cabin, and my knee bounces, shaking the seats as I try to contain my nerves.

The motion doesn’t go unnoticed. Olivia slides her hand onto my thigh, her palm up in a silent offering of support.

I don’t waste any time threading my fingers through hers.

She squeezes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder, instantly calming my racing heart.

If she’s freaking out, she doesn’t show it, and I don’t stop to consider why I feel so drawn to this woman who was still a complete stranger less than two hours ago.

“Tell me about your family,” she says. It’s clearly an attempt to distract me from the threat of impending doom, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I have two younger brothers and a baby sister.” I don’t tell her who my baby sister is; that’s a story for another day.

Who am I kidding? I’ll probably never see this woman again.

“I have a two-year-old daughter,” I say. “Her name is Emmy Lou.”

She stiffens, and the grip on my hand loosens. It’s only then that I realize my mistake.

“I’m single. My wife —” I glance down at where our hands are joined and blow out a breath, stroking my thumb over her palm. “She passed away when Emmy was six months old. Car accident.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume,” she says.

“No, it’s fine. I understand why you’d be wary.”

We sit in companionable silence, waiting for the plane to land, and my thoughts drift back to Emmy.

Jess’s parents stayed behind in Colorado to finish packing up the house while I get everything set up for us at the ranch.

I’ll come back for her in about a week, and we’ll start our new life in the same place where I grew up, just like Jess and I always intended.

Only it’s different because she’s not here, and I never planned to do this alone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Memphis. Please ensure your seat belts are fastened and your seats are in the upright position. We anticipate a smooth landing and expect to be on the ground shortly. Please proceed to the ticket counter upon arrival to book a new flight to your final destination. Further instruction will be provided by the ticket agents.”

Fuck.

Olivia

Happy birthday, Olivia. Let’s recap this shit show, shall we?

You turned thirty today. Stupidly suspecting some grand proposal was on the horizon, you put on your best dress, had your hair and nails done, and got plucked and waxed within an inch of your life, only to walk in on your boyfriend of three years raw dogging your best friend in your bed.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you were then roughly manhandled by TSA and had your bags searched, at which point they found your lipstick bullet vibrator and proceeded to investigate it like you were about to single-handedly take out a plane with nothing but clitoral stimulation and a dream.

But wait. There’s more.

When you finally board the plane, you’re seated beside arguably the hottest man you’ve ever met, and he has the privilege of seeing you at your lowest. Turns out, he’s also incredibly kind and thoughtful.

Then, just when you think things are looking up, he whispers filthy shit in your ear right before you find out the plane isn’t making it to your destination. What else could possibly go wrong?

“I’m sorry. The next flight to Nashville doesn’t leave until tomorrow night. You’ll have to find a hotel. ”

MOTHERFUCKER!

A warm body brushes against my back, and I stiffen until a familiar amber cologne floods my senses. Wilder. I thought I’d lost him in the baggage claim.

“And is the airline going to cover the additional expenses?” he asks.

“You’ll have to file a case with the airline to have your expenses approved and recuperated.”

There’s a small crowd of disgruntled passengers growing around the ticketing desk. Several voices are talking over each other, trying to get answers. This is a sensory nightmare. I need to get out of here.