“And why don’t you?”

She nibbles her lip for a moment and leans back, crossing her hands over her full belly. Her hair is starting to work free of its pins. I want to sink my fingers in that hair.

“I sort of do. I mean, isn’t there a whole cliché about people going to the bar to spill their guts to the bartender?” She grins. “I’ve heard stories at that bar that would make your hair curl. I give advice. And I get to also work with wine, which I love. I’m running a successful business with my best friends. I’d say I have the best of all worlds.”

“So you do,” I reply, and smile when she yawns again. “You’re exhausted, Red.”

“Yeah.” She sighs sweetly. “It’s been a fun week, Mac.”

“I won’t argue with you there.”

“When do you go home?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Me too.” She sinks farther into the chair, and she’s fighting to keep her eyes open now. “My flight is at nine in the morning.”

“Mine as well.”

“Are you going back to Portland?”

I nod.

“It would be funny if we’re on the same flight again.” She frowns. “I don’t want to fly. Maybe I should just rent a car and drive back up.”

“You’re a strong woman, Kat. You’ll be just fine.”

“I’m badass.” Her voice is soft, and in her black yoga shorts and faded Pokémon T-shirt, she doesn’t look badass.

But she is.

“Exactly.”

“You’re putting me to sleep with all that foot rubbing.”

“I think you’d be going to sleep anyway.”

“What about the sexy time?”

“It might have to wait until the morning.” I stand and pull her out of the chair, and guide her to the bed, tucking her in.

“Don’t go.”

She holds on to my hand tightly. Wild horses couldn’t pull me away from her tonight.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’m just going to get undressed.”

Her lips twitch as her eyes close. “Good plan.”

I strip down to my boxer briefs, turn off the lights, and climb in next to her. She’s already snoring softly, making me smile. I lie in the darkness and watch her, the moon shining over her face and arm, casting them in light blue. She shifts, nudging her way into my arms, her head on my chest, and holds on tightly.

This isn’t how I envisioned us ending our sexcation, but I don’t mind.

“I can’t believe they switched seats with you,” she says, her voice shaky, as she buckles her seat belt and looks around the cabin of the plane nervously.

“Switching seats happens all the time,” I assure her.

“Can I get you anything before we take off?” the flight attendant asks.

“Waters, please. In bottles if you have them.”

She nods and inches her way through the line of people making their way to their seats.

“I really don’t want to die in a plane.”

She’s wringing her hands. I hate watching her like this. My strong, badass woman is reduced to a shaking, nervous wreck.

“You’ve already done this once, and it’s the same flight, only in reverse.”

She nods, but I can see she’s not buying it.

“You can hold my hand.”

“Okay. At least that’s not so awkward this time.”

I grin. “Not awkward in the least.” She’s biting her lips. “How does your lipstick not come off?”

“It’s a stain,” she replies, and smiles at the flight attendant when she’s given water. She tries to open it, but her hands are shaking too hard. “I can’t grip it.”

“I got it.” I open it for her and hand it back.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” I rub her thigh firmly. “You have a phobia, Kat. The fact that you’re facing it head-on is pretty fucking admirable.”

“At least Landon isn’t here.”

I freeze and frown at the pure jealousy that shoots through me. Kat isn’t mine. I don’t have a claim on her. Yet the mention of another man’s name doesn’t sit well with me.

“Landon?”

“Mia’s brother. He’s married to Cami.”

I relax, and don’t take the time to examine my reaction. It doesn’t matter who he is. After we land in Portland, she’ll never see me again if she has her way.

Except, she will. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“He’s a pilot,” she continues. “And he makes fun of me for being afraid of flying. In an annoying, brotherly sort of way.”

“Well, I’m not making fun of you.”

“Good because I’d have to punch you and I like your nose where it is.” She takes a deep breath and scrubs her hands over her face when we taxi toward the runway.

“I prefer my nose where it is as well.”

We speed down the runway and take off, and Kat simply stops breathing.

“Take a breath.”

She shakes her head, then gasps when we hit a pocket of air and the plane jerks sideways.

“It’s just rough air,” I say calmly.

She nods, but she’s still not breathing.

“Kat, I can’t take my seat belt off to give you CPR for another ten minutes. I need you to breathe, sweetheart.”