Anyway, it was less than forty degrees outside. What business did he have wearing a T-shirt?
When he finished adjusting himself in his seat, he leaned across the armrest, tucking hair behind my ear and pressing his face to mine. I pretended to exhale through my lips, breathing out so the scent of him wouldn't overpower me.
He wasn’t even wearing cologne. This was ridiculous.
“Should I be worried about how easily you lie,babe?”
“That depends,” I whispered back. “Should I be worried about you turning into a werewolf and ripping the plane apart?”
His eyes lit up again, that golden color so bright it was almost hard to look at. The air pressure dropped around him, and the plane hadn’t even taken off. I sucked in a spontaneous breath, my nerves going haywire.
“It’s your job to keep that from happening.”
“Myjob?”
“There are two types of flights for shifters. One has a designated officer on board with supernatural deterrent training. The other is human mates only, because no shifter would put his mate at risk by shifting and damaging the plane.”
I blinked at him, trying to find words. “Has a shifter ever damaged a plane?”
“No.” He adjusted his seatbelt over his lap, and my eyes were drawn to his hands. They were big too. “But as far as they’re concerned,” he gestured to one of the flight attendants giving a safety demonstration in the aisle, “I’m unpredictable. Dangerous.”
“Is that true?”
“I’m not as unpredictable as you.” He didn’t smile when he said it, and I didn’t know how to interpret his tone.
I shrugged, trying to diffuse my weird interpretation of the energy between us. It didn’t matter if he was straight-up flirting with me. I couldn’t accept that kind of attention, anyway. Not until I got to Alaska and finished this.
One thing at a time.
“I couldn’t afford to miss this flight. Sounds like you couldn’t either.” The plane started moving toward the runway and I gripped my knees. “Unless that story about your mom was for sympathy.” It wasn’t like I got onto this plane through honest means.
“Her birthday is in two days. I missed Christmas because I was doing work for my alpha in Seattle. I can’t miss her birthday too.” He stared past me, out the window, as we rolled away from the airport. “Her health is getting worse. I don’t know how much more time I have.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Thank you.” He shook his head, the faraway expression fading from his face. “I’m Rhett, by the way. Rhett Maddox.” Rhett leaned his arm across his chest and offered me his hand.
“Angie Fletcher.” I took it, squeezing gently and startling as an odd hiccup sensation jolted in my chest. I rubbed it with my other hand, waiting for the next one. Instead, I found my heart racing, a fluttery feeling in my chest like an echo of my pulse.
I dug my fingers into my sternum. What was that?
Rhett stared at my fingers, and a subtle smile twisted his lips. He looked mystified.
I raised my eyebrows at his obvious perusal of my chest, and he cleared his throat. “I like your tattoos.”
“I think you confused the word tattoos with titties.”
His brows pinched together. “I meant this,” he said, pointing to the black moon phases decorating beneath my collarbones.
“Of course, you do.”
I glanced out the window, feeling the blood drain from my face as the plane picked up speed. My knuckles were white as I tried to hold myself steady through the bump as we left the ground.
“Planes never crash during takeoff.”
Rhett stretched his legs out further, our thighs brushing. Some of my anxiety ebbed, though my eyes were still glued to the window.
Until he reached across me and closed it.
