Page 17 of Always Almost You

Mike blew out a breath and opened his laptop. They were starting out two hours late. And Charlotte sat directly in the storm’s path. He pulled up a design. “At least,” he muttered to himself, “I’ve got something productive to do while I wait.”

CHAPTER 13

Lauren carried Pumpkin in her airline-approved soft carrier down the jetway and along the aisle, dragging her carry-on behind her. She’d paid extra for a window seat and used her airline credit card to secure Group Two boarding. Since this was her first flight with Pumpkin, she’d wanted plenty of time at the airport for her girl to visit the pet relief area and stretch her legs before boarding the long flight to Charlotte.

She’d arrived two hours before departure. That had been more than four hours ago. It was a relief to finally be on board, despite the delay.

She placed the carrier on her seat and leaned into the aisle to retrieve Pumpkin’s favorite stuffed toy—a tiny plush squirrel she slept with every day at the office—from her carry-on.

A short man with a bulbous nose and a pronounced belly stopped abruptly behind her. “That aisle seat is mine,” he said sharply.

“I’m sorry,” Lauren replied. “I just need to grab a few things from my bag for my puppy.”

“What?” the man barked. “You’ve got a dog?” He leaned over and peered at the carrier. “That thing can’t sit there. It has to go on the floor.”

Lauren’s irritation flared. His tone had been brusque from the start, but calling Pumpkin “that thing” poured jet fuel on her annoyance. Her glare could have frozen him solid. She removed the squirrel, her Kindle, phone, and a bottle of water from her bag, and slid the carry-on into the overhead bin. Having carefully positioned Pumpkin’s carrier beneath the seat in front of her, she sat down and leaned toward the mesh on top of the carrier.

Pumpkin gazed up at her.

“It’s going to be okay, girl,” Lauren said in a sing-song voice. “This is our first flight together. I’m right here.” She unzipped one corner and slipped the stuffed squirrel inside.

Pumpkin gave a small thump of her tail but didn’t mouth the toy. Her eyes stayed locked on Lauren.

Lauren stroked her ears the way she loved. “You’ve got a pee pad in there, just in case. I know you’d rather go outside. We’ll head straight to the dog relief area in Charlotte.” She felt Pumpkin relax, easing down onto her belly.

In the aisle seat, the man was now engaged in an animated debate with a flight attendant about his carry-on. “It fits the airline’s website dimensions,” he insisted.

“That may be, sir,” the attendant replied evenly, “but it doesn’t fit in this overhead bin. I’ll need to gate-check it.”

The man began to argue.

“Sir, we’re already delayed. I’m not going to debate this further.” She tagged the suitcase, handed him the claim stub, and moved on.

He dropped into his seat with an exasperated huff, as a tall man in a black turtleneck and jeans took the aisle seat across the aisle.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Lauren offered gently to the cranky man next to her, attempting to reset the tone.

The man seemed startled that she’d spoken. Then his gaze shifted back to the carrier.

“I hope that thing doesn’t have fleas.”

Lauren exhaled sharply. “Her,” she corrected. “She’s fully vaccinated and impeccably groomed. I’ll bet she’ll be the most congenial passenger on this aircraft.”

The man blinked. “And you can’t have your hand in there,” he snapped. “It has to be fully zipped the entire flight.”

Lauren nodded. “You’re right. I’m zipping it now. She’s never flown before. I was reassuring her.”

“Oh, great,” he muttered. “Now I’ll have to listen to a barking dog the whole way.”

A faint growl vibrated from inside the carrier.

Lauren was grateful the man didn’t hear it.

“I’d be happy to switch seats with you.” The voice came from across the aisle. The tall man in black leaned toward them. “I love dogs.” He had already unbuckled his seatbelt and begun to stand.

The grumpy passenger flushed, color rising up his neck.

“Sit down,” he muttered. “I like where I am.”