Page 72 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

Booking an eight a.m. flight after a weekend of nonstop gymnastics was definitely not my brightest move. Especially when said flight was with an overtired three-year-old who thought “sitting still” was a suggestion and not a requirement.

Though, I couldn’t take all the blame for the chaos that was sure to happen on this four-hour flight. At least I’d tried to make it better by booking first-class seats for both Charlotte and me.

But when the airline oversold them, my grand plan went out the window—leaving me trudging down the narrow aisle of the main cabin, clutching our carry-ons and silently praying our seatmate wouldn’t hate kids.

Charlotte was adorable. Obviously. But not everyone shared my bias.

We made our way down the aisle—me angling our bags so they didn’t smack anyone in the shoulder, my daughter dragging her sparkly unicorn backpack.

And when I spotted our row, I found a familiar shock of reddish-brown hair by the window .

Lucy’s friend, Nora.

Thank goodness it’s someone I know, I thought as relief loosened my shoulders. I’d been sure we’d be sharing our row with a grumpy old man who hated kids.

But Nora had always been nice to Charlotte the handful of times they’d met, so hopefully, she’d still like us by the time this plane landed in New Haven.

“Hey,” I said, stopping beside my seat.

“Hey.” She pulled out an AirPod and smiled at me, seeming just a little surprised. “Are you guys sitting here?”

“Guess so.” Then directing Charlotte to the middle seat, I said, “Okay, honey, this is your spot.”

And miracle of miracles, she offered a shy smile up at Nora before climbing into her seat.

Well, that was easier than expected.

“Want me to help with your seatbelt, Charlotte?” I heard Nora ask as I fussed with putting our carry-ons in the overhead bin.

And when I was ready to sit, I saw she was all secured and ready to go.

“Thank you for helping her,” I said, reaching around for my seatbelt.

“No problem,” Nora said. “Though, I could have sworn I heard that you and your parents were flying First Class.”

“That was the plan.” I chuckled. “But apparently, they oversold seats, so…here we are.”

“Slumming it with the rest of us,” she teased.

“Yep, lucky you,” I said, nodding down at my daughter who was most definitely not going to be keeping to the bubble of her seat. “I hope you don’t mind kids.”

“Oh, I love them,” she said. Then patting Charlotte’s leg, she added, “Plus, Charlotte and I are already buddies, aren’t we? ”

“You’re Lucy’s friend,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly.

“You’re right.” Nora smiled. “But you and me can be friends now, too.”

“Okay.” Charlotte shrugged, seeming to like that idea.

“See, Charlotte and I are going to be just fine on this flight.” Nora said, her brown eyes smiling. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me?” I furrowed my brow, wondering why she’d be worried about me. “I’ll be fine. Just a little more cramped is all.”

“Uh huh.” She smirked, her eyes skeptical. “I heard you used to fly on the Vanderbilts’ private jet back in the day. This must be rough for you.”

Okay, so she thought I was a snob.

But I wasn’t the only one here with fancy people in my life.

“Funny hearing you say that,” I said, arching a challenging eyebrow. “Weren’t you flying all over Europe in your famous pop star brother’s private jet last summer?”

“Okay, so I wasn’t planning to mention it since I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me,” she said with a grin. “But if I start crying into the complimentary pretzels later, you’ll know why.”

And I couldn’t keep my own grin from lifting my cheeks because this was actually kind of fun.

But before I could think of anything to say back, Charlotte suddenly piped up, “Daddy cries sometimes, too.”

I groaned. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Nora laughed, but when her eyes met mine again, there was a softness there. Like she understood why a widowed father might get emotional from time to time.

And while the thought of anyone knowing I sometimes cried when the grief of losing Alisha suddenly hit would have embarrassed me a few years ago, I just had to shrug and embrace it since letting the emotion out was better than keeping it bottled up .

About an hour into the flight, after the fiftieth request from Charlotte for fruit snacks, Nora pulled out her phone to look at something.

“What’s that?” Charlotte leaned over, curiosity lighting her face.

“It’s a game where you match the colors in bottles,” Nora explained.

“Oh fun!” Charlotte gasped. “I can help!”

Two minutes later, she was perched on Nora’s lap, chubby fingers pointing at the screen like she was the official strategist.

“Sorry,” I murmured, reaching to pull her back. “She can be a little overbear?—”

“She’s just fine.” Nora glanced at me with a conspiratorial little smile. “We’re a team now.”

By the time we were halfway home, the team was out cold.

Charlotte had begged Nora to trade her for her window seat, only to curl across Nora’s lap shortly after that. And somewhere in the rhythm of Nora absentmindedly running her fingers through Charlotte’s curls, Nora had drifted off, too, her head resting against my shoulder.

So with a quiet moment to myself, I pulled out my phone and opened the stack of applications I’d received for Charlotte’s new nanny.

Yep, daycare wasn’t working out, and I was hoping more one-on-one care might be better for her.

But after reading the same paragraph three times and not retaining anything, I knew the warmth of Nora pressed into me was making it impossible to focus on résumés and reference lists .

Especially since she was holding my daughter like she was made for the job I was trying to fill.

It had been almost two years since Alisha passed. Two years since I’d had a woman beside me like this. And the weight, the quiet trust. Well…it was doing things to my chest I hadn’t felt in a long time.

And when I glanced down at the way a loose strand of reddish-brown hair had fallen across her cheek, I noticed something I probably should have seen a long time ago—what a natural beauty Nora was.

The faint spray of freckles over her nose.

The fullness of her lips. Her petite frame, perfect for tucking beneath my arm like she belonged there.

Okay, you are not getting a crush on your little sister’s friend. I shoved the thought aside immediately.

Because, geez . I’d thought Owen was too old for Lucy and here I was, even a year older than him.

I sighed and went back to my phone, forcing my eyes to read the details of the application before me.

I was just skimming over the section that stated the candidate had a degree in early childhood development when the plane hit a pocket of turbulence.

Nora stirred beside me, her lashes fluttering just a second before her eyes slowly opened.

It took a beat for her to register where she was, and then she sat up straighter in a hurry.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She looked up at me, embarrassed, as she started to shift away.

“Don’t be,” I said quietly. “I don’t mind. Small quarters and all.”

“We did already establish how cramped it is back here.” She gave me a small, almost shy smile.

“That we did,” I said.

But instead of resting her head back on my shoulder like I secretly hoped, she settled farther back into her seat, putting her AirPods into her ears.

And when she closed her eyes again, I let my gaze linger for a second, taking her in.

Just because I knew I couldn’t act on anything didn’t mean it was illegal to look.