He loaded her suitcase next to his in the backseat, climbed into the driver’s side, buckled his seatbelt, and turned toward her with that grin that always made her heart hiccup.
“Let’s hit the road.”
26
Turbulence
ClaireandJaxonweavedthrough airport security, shoes in hand, belts re-threaded, and that glazed look in their eyes that only early-morning travel could bring. They made it to their gate just as boarding was called.
“We made it just in time,” Jaxon said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Claire exhaled with a grin. “That’s gotta be a record.”
They boarded the plane and settled into their seats. As the plane began its slow roll toward the runway, Jaxon glanced over—just like he had the first time they flew together.
He knew what was coming.
As the engines revved and the plane rocketed forward, Claire’s hand clamped the armrest like it might save her soul.
“You good?” he asked, leaning in.
“Peachy,” she said through clenched teeth.
He smirked, starting a casual conversation just like before—letting his voice distract her from the altitude. It worked. Almost.
When the plane leveled out, Claire finally released her grip and breathed like the air was hers again.
A few minutes later, she stood up and reached for her carry-on.
Jaxon watched her fumble through it, raising a brow as she sat back down and pulled out a thick paperback.
“All that for a book?” he asked.
Claire smirked. “Nothing beats a good story.”
“I agree… just most people get that out before takeoff.”
“Well, I didn’t think about it. But hey—at least I came prepared.”
“Clearly,” he said, laughing.
The flight fell into a rhythm. Claire bounced between reading and striking up conversations, her mind never fully in one place. Jaxon watched her with amused awe.
“You know you jump from your book to me, then back to your book, then right back to what you were saying like there was no break in between?”
Claire smiled. “It’s because both are good. The plot’s great… but so is the company.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
A few hours in, the captain came over the intercom. Final descent.
Claire peeked out the window, eyes soft. “It always amazes me how the ground looks like a giant quilt—everything in perfect squares.”
“I think about that every time I fly,” Jaxon said, watching her more than the view.
The wheels hit the runway with a jolt. The cabin rustled with seatbelts and sighs of relief as passengers stood and gathered their things.
Claire reached for her bag, tried to shove the book back into the pocket—but it wouldn’t go.
