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“Mornin’!” a soft southern voice drawls.
I sit straighter and flash what I hope isn’t a deranged smile at Shelby as she slides into one of the seats across from us. Her fiancé Rooster nods and shakes my brother’s hand and sits next to Shelby.
Jigsaw takes a seat on the long couch on the other side of the plane. “You nervous, Molly?”
“A little,” I squeak.
“Psh. All that trash everyone’s talkin’ is ‘cause they know Griff’s about to turn things upside down,” Shelby says.
“I meant the flight, songbird,” Jigsaw says to her. “Of course she knows her man’s gonna win.”
“Is it your first flight?” Shelby asks me.
I glance at Remy. “We went to Disney when I was little, but I don’t remember much of it.”
Remy snorts. “You fell asleep on me before we even took off. Mom asked me not to move and wake you. She was afraid you’d freak when the plane was taking off. You drooled all over my arm.” An affectionate smile plays over his face as he shares the embarrassing story.
“Aww, if that isn’t the sweetest,” Shelby says. “You’re so lucky, Molly. I always wanted a big brother.” Her voice falters for a second and then her cheeks pull up in a full smile. She tilts her head toward Jigsaw. “And now I do.”
Rooster chuckles. “More than one.”
“Yeah, but I’m her favorite.” Jigsaw grins.
“Yes, you are,” Shelby agrees.
Apparently she hasn’t seen him with a pair of bolt cutters.
Or maybe she has.
I tilt my head and study my brother. “He’s not so bad. I think I’ll keep him.”
“Thanks.” Remy reaches over and roughs his hand over my hair.
Eraser and Ella board quickly, their steps slowing as they approach. “Shit,” Eraser says, “I thought we were late.”
“Nope,” Rooster answers.
I stand and hug Ella, so happy she’s coming with us. “Are you nervous, McMuffin?” she asks, pulling away.
Why does everyone keep asking me that? “No, just excited to see Griff. We talk every night but it’s not the same.”
“Glad he’s taking your calls,” Eraser says.
“Bro, he ain’t callin’ me either,” Remy says. “They give him thirty minutes in the morning and thirty at night.” He points at me. “He’s using them all to call her.”
“Is it training camp or prison?” Jigsaw asks.
“There’s a strict schedule,” I explain. “But at least no one’s listening in on our calls or monitoring what he says.”
A voice too soft to understand murmurs something over the loudspeaker. Shelby cocks her head. “I think we’re taking off soon.”
Eraser freezes, staring at the couch, then the group of four seats behind us.
“Oh!” Shelby stands. “Sit anywhere. Except the bedroom and that little nook outside the bedroom. That’s where Dawson always parks himself.”
“Thanks.” Eraser curls his hand around Ella’s and leads her to one of the seats behind us.
I send Griff a selfie from my seat, then take a picture of Remy and send that too.
