Her fingers stroke the back of my neck. “Can we move this to somewhere more private?”
“Are you sure?” I caress her cheeks with my thumbs.
She nods, unable to speak.
I stand. She doesn’t climb off my lap.
Her legs tighten instinctively around my waist. I lift her and her arms drift around my shoulders as if she’s done this a hundred times.
I carry her down the aisle. The forward lounge fades and the door to the aft suite closes behind us with a quiet click. Her eyes shine now with something deeper than nervousness.
Something hopeful.
Fierce.
“Tell me this is real.” She nuzzles my neck.
“The real-est.” I set her down and take her hands in mind.
She steps into me again, closing distance without hesitation.
For the first time in fifteen years, I’m not holding anything back.
