“That’s why you counted cars instead of telling them they made you mad?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead he squeezed her hand tighter. He’d been what his parents needed, that’s what a guy did when he loved the people in his life.
“What’s wrong, Knox?”
This intimacy between them didn’t feel so platonic, and what did it say that he didn’t mind?
“It could’ve been bad on the plane.” He squeezed harder, grateful to have something to hold onto.
Scratch that, grateful to have Irina to hold onto.
“Baby Jeremy and Cathy are fine.” She turned her body a little to face him better. “You jumped right in there. If you hadn’t? Craig would’ve had to deliver their baby in coach with all the people watching.” A little smile ticked at the edge of her mouth. “Now it’s a story they’ll always remember and can tell little Jeremy when he gets older—he was welcomed to the world in first class by a genuine rock star. That baby is destined for great things with a story like that.”
“Or maybe she should’ve been in a hospital or at an airfield in the back of an ambulance,” he countered.
“No, the only alternative they had is that Daddy delivered him in coach back near the toilet.” She pulled a face. “Doesn’t have the same ring as rock star in first class, don’t you think?”
She was right, the story was pretty kickass.
Except…
“What if the baby was preterm?” he asked, because the thought had been gnawing at the back of his skull since they’d left the airport and he hit the adrenaline crash.
Irina could’ve moved her hand away from his.
She didn’t.
“What if he was?” she quizzed. “What would you have done?”
They’d covered this in the coursework he’d taken, and he’d regurgitated it for the test. “I would’ve done my best to stabilize him until we landed. Same with Mom. If things got really bad, we’d have called in for help and had a doctor walk me through.”
“And if he didn’t breathe right away?” Irina asked, putting a voice to the things he didn’t want to think about but that had the potential to eat a hole in his stomach like an ulcer.
He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to think about that.”
“What would you have done?” Irina pressed, still holding his hand, still allowing herself to be his lifeline.
“Cleared the airway,” he said. “Massaged to wake him up. Used the supplemental oxygen, if I needed it, or started helping him breathe manually.”
Irina grinned with pride. “See, you knew what to do. That’s why you were so awesome. Even if things had gone badly, you would’ve handled it. Because—” She poked him in the arm. “You are a rock star in more ways than one and youknewwhat to do.”
She was right. Maybe the adrenaline was gone, but he’d still done something that helped someone.
He liked this. Enjoyed having her talk to him like this. Enjoyed her hand held in his and the way her earnest eyes tried to convince him what she said was the truth.
“Thank you.” He lifted his thumb to her mouth, brushing the pad there at her bottom lip.
He shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t even kind of platonic, and it took things too far. What they had wasn’tthatwhen they were justthem.Thatonly came when they were putting on a show for everyone else.
Irina sucked in a breath. “Knox, I think we need to—”
“We’re at the Performing Arts Complex,” the driver announced, pulling into the drop-off zone.
“We need to what?” he asked, even though he didn’t want to hear what she would say. Of course, she’d say they needed to cool things off. This wasn’t what they’d discussed and didn’t make sense when they weren’t supposed to bethat.
Maybe he needed a beer and a nap?
Yeah, that’s probably what he needed. He could go home, check out the progress on the paint and the carpet, and enjoy his new refrigerator and the way it cooled the hell out of a Coors.
