Page 51 of Carson

During the third one, I realize we’re leaving the ground.

He leans back a little bit and smiles when I open my eyes.

“There’s no turning back now, is there?”

“Nope.”

“We’re really in the air?”

Carson places his hand against my cheek and gently turns my head.

My heart races, but not in fear. “Oh my gosh, it’s so beautiful.”

One layover in Chicago and we are indeed on a bigger plane. We lucked out and no one booked the seat beside us, so we have a more private flight. I’d like to say I took the time to get to know him better, but all I did was sleep.

We both did. I woke up to his head on my shoulder as mine was pressed against the side of the plane.

I can’t believe I crossed the ocean without having a panic attack.

It’s funny how something can terrify you right up until you do it. I’ve never felt so unafraid in all my life.

I don’t know if it’s because Carson is by my side. Of course, I think that is a big part of it, but something is changing inside of me. I’ve been looking back over my life and realizing how tough I truly am.

I study the strong lines of his face. He looks intimidating yet soft. Like a giant grizzly bear. Not that he looks like a bear. He’s incredibly handsome. Not that bears aren’t handsome. Again, a little burst of joy warms my chest.

We’re going to be landing soon. I should wake him.

He rubs his hand over his hair, mussing it up, or making it better, I haven’t decided.

“Shit, we’re there already?”

“The night flight was perfect,” I tell him.

“Did you sleep?” he asks, reaching across me to help with my belt.

We both catch a glimpse out of the window at the same time.

“I did sleep, but now I’m sure I died and went to Heaven,” I say, staring down at the rolling green fields below us.

“So, the green isle really is green,” Carson says, sounding as in awe of the view as I am.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited as I am right in this moment,” I tell him.

“Me either. This is pretty cool.”

A short time later we are standing in line, waiting to get our car rental. “So, where are we going first?”

He reaches in his backpack and pulls out my mother’s journal. “I don’t remember the name of the place.”

Carson thumbs through it and then holds it out to me after tapping his finger over the page. “I’m not even going to try to pronounce it.”

I take the journal from him. It feels like everything around us is moving quickly while we’re trapped in a slow-motion bubble.

“Ballinalacken Castle Country House Hotel?”

He laughs. “Yeah, whatever you said.”

“You booked us rooms where my mother stayed on her first night here?”