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“Now boarding seats number one through eight,” an attendant announces over the speaker.
Ty stands, looking around the nearly empty area. “I’m number three. What number are you?”
Pulling my ticket in front of my face. “Seven.”
He offers his elbow to me. “Shall we?”
I wrap my arm through his, following him to the counter. Just like before, the two women behind stare and practically drool as we approach. “Hello, Mr…”
“Johnson.” He hands her his ticket. “This is Miss Erickson. We’d like to sit together.” I look up in surprise. We would?
“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s not possible. Your seats are several rows away from each other. You’ll have to stick with the original numbers.”
Ty turns back toward the nearly empty waiting area. “Are you seeing people that I’m not?”
“Excuse me?”
He moves closer, showing the dimples I’ve seen several times. “It looks as if this won’t be a full flight. I think you can change that for me.” Instead of intimidating this woman, he uses whatever it is that draws every eye to him. He places his hand on top of hers.
She clears her throat, looking at their connected hands. “Of course, Mr. Johnson. I apologize for any inconvenience.”
“Thank you, doll.”
She walks away, shuffling papers around, and fans her face before returning. “Here you are. I added a few of our frequent flyer perks to your tickets as well.”
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers before stepping away from the counter with me in tow.
Halfway down the jetway, I can’t hold the questions inside. “What kind of voodoo magic was that? You used whatever it is that makes women throw themselves at you, didn’t you?”
Ty’s laugh fills the narrow hallway without answering. For the first time since I can remember, this man intrigues me. Most men who try to date me are after only one thing—my money and trust fund. Ty has no idea who I am other than the fact that I’m not a fan of germs.
We enter the plane, and the attendant sends us to something that looks like it belongs in an episode of Star Trek. Our seats are next to each other, yet there is enough space between them to give us privacy. “This is nice.”
“Yeah. I might be able to stretch my legs out.” I slide the wipes out of my bag, ready to clean the already spotless leather when the attendant comes behind me.
“Allow me, Miss Erickson.” She takes the wipes, cleaning every area of both of our seats. “May I get you something to drink?”
“Water,” I answer.
“Same,” Ty copies.
“Now who’s living life on the edge?” I slide into my seat next to the window as he slides into his on the aisle.
Minutes later, we’re in the air and the only people in first class. “Looks like we have nearly the entire plane to ourselves.” He stretches his legs in front of him. “Look at that. They fit.” He turns his head toward me. “Piper, I hope you don’t find this rude, but I need to sleep.”
“Oh, no. I don’t expect you to entertain me.” I don’t know why I suddenly feel awkward. “I need to get some sleep, too.”
His eyes close, and his breathing slows down within minutes. Leaving the pillow I brought with me safely in my bag, I fluff the one provided and lay my head on the softness. For the first time in a long while, the overwhelming voice that screams through my mind is silent.
I wake and realize my head is propped on something much harder than the pillow. Lifting my head, I see that I’ve somehow thrown the pillow on the floor and am using Ty as a human pillow.
I jump at the realization, hearing a deep laugh next to me. “It’s fine. I don’t mind being a pillow.”
“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. That’s embarrassing.” I wipe the wetness from my cheek. “How long was I asleep?”
“We’re landing in an hour.”
My eyes feel three times their normal size. “I slept for eleven hours? On your shoulder?”
