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Ivy offered her a smile. “The mimosa is fine. Thank you.”
After she had her drink settled on a small paper napkin on her fold-down tray, she queued up some whale sounds on her phone to use for sleeping.
“Whale sounds, I see.”
Ivy glanced at the man beside her.
Great—now he wanted to strike up that conversation she dreaded.
She bobbed her head in acknowledgment, hoping he would take her lack of communication as a sign to leave her be.
“I sleep with birdsong, personally.”
Seeing she wasn’t going to get out of talking to him, she gave him her attention. In his forties, he wore a nice business jacket and a crisp shirt with a pair of khaki dress pants.
“What brought you to Germany?”
Slapping her best I’m-not-in-the-mood-to-talk expression on her face, she reluctantly answered the man.
“I’ve been traveling Europe for about nine months.”
The guy across the aisle cleared his throat. The deep, grating noise was definitely the same as the ones she’d heard when asking about the mimosa.
She picked up the drink and sipped, testing the flavors in her mouth. Not bad, even if the juice wasn’t organic.
Her seat partner went on. “What a wonderful opportunity to travel. Not many are so fortunate. Where did you begin your journey?”
“In London. I’ve been all over England several times. After that, I spent the winter in France.”
“France is lovely in wintertime.”
“It really was.” Excited by the topic, Ivy launched into a discussion of her travels, bantering back and forth with the guy next to her, who seemed well-traveled too.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement from the man across the aisle. He shifted in his seat, extending his long leg into the aisle.
She stole a glance at his face—just in time to see him roll his eyes.
What she knew of the few military men she’d met in Europe, there were two types—the ones who took themselves seriously all the time, and the ones who were still personable enough to talk to.
This one fit into the former group.
Turning her head, she looked him in the eye. His expression glinted with judgement and more than a little annoyance with her.
Well, she didn’t know what she’d done to piss in his morning coffee, but the last thing she needed was his attitude.
She lifted her jaw a notch, shooting him a look of challenge with a hint of disdain.
He looked away.
A pang of homesickness sliced through Ivy. She may not be all that eager to get home to her sick father…but at least there, she was loved and understood.
* * * * *
Hunter shut his eyes in an attempt to tune out the woman chattering endlessly about her ritzy gallivant through Europe. He’d seen her type before—women who got whatever they wanted handed to them by rich boyfriends or daddies.
Organic orange juice was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to chicks like that one. He could spot a high-maintenance, entitled princess a mile away.
He folded his arms and reclined as far as he could in his seat. He probably didn’t fit in on a ranch, but Germany had only been a stop-off on a long, lonely road.
