aisle seat next to her, Angie raced for the bathroom, wondering what her jump-before-you-look nature had gotten her into this time.
Trey stood halfway up, debating on whether or not to go after Angel and make sure she was all right. It wasn’t like her to get air sickness. Hell, she flew several times a year on travel agent ‘fam’ trips to all sorts of destinations, and not once did he ever recall her mentioning that flying bothered her. But her face had been undeniably flushed when she’d darted out of their row.
Angel’s abrupt departure and his near departure from their seats had the elderly woman in the aisle seat staring his direction. The book she’d been reading when the plane took off was now lying in her lap.
“She’s not quite herself today,” he explained with a smile as he lowered himself back into his seat to await Angel’s return.
A couple of minutes later, he cast a worried glance back over his seat. No sign of her yet. A worried frown tugged at his mouth.
He motioned for the flight.
“Can I get you something?” she asked.
“Could we have a couple of ginger ales, please?”
The attendant left and then returned a few moments later with their drinks.
“Thank you.” Trey lowered his lap tray and placed their glasses on it.
“Honeymooners?” the elderly woman beside him asked when the flight attendant walked away.
“Excuse me?”
She motioned toward Angel’s empty seat, then to him. “You two. Are you kids on your honeymoon?”
Kids?
“No, we’re not.”
“Oh, wait, let me guess. I’ll bet you two are flying to Vegas to get married? Am I right?”
He laughed at her assumption. “Afraid not. Angel and I are just friends.”
Speaking of which, Trey cast another glance in the direction of the restrooms at the back of the plane. He really should go check on her.
“Honey, I’ve been around more years than I care to admit, and I know the spark of romance when I see it. You two definitely have it.”
It appeared the poor woman’s eyesight was going. Trey shook his head. “Angel’s—”
“Just the prettiest little thing,” she finished for him, and then patted at her blue-grey, fresh-from-the-beauty-salon do. “What I wouldn’t give to have hair like hers. Mine used to be long in my younger days. Men have a thing for long hair. But then I guess you already know that.”
He nodded.
“And those eyes. Are they real?”
“Real?”
“As opposed to those newfangled colored contacts,” she clarified.
“Oh, yeah, they’re real.” He twisted around to get a better view of the aisle way behind them.
Damn it, Angel, you’re starting to worry me.
“No wonder you’re so smitten with her.”
Smitten? That caught Trey’s attention. Angel was his friend. That was all. But the woman was right. Angel did have great hair and incredible eyes.
“You’re such a nice looking couple,” she continued with a warm, grandmotherly kind of smile. “And let me tell you, Las Vegas has the sweetest little wedding chapels. My late husband and I, God rest his soul, renewed our vows last year at the Little White Wedding Chapel for our fiftieth anniversary. Stuart was such a romantic. We were married in that same chapel all those years ago and I’m so glad he had us do it again before he...well, you know.” The old woman’s smile sagged and her eyes grew misty.
“Fifty years?” Trey tried to imagine spending that many years with any of the women he’d dated, but oddly enough it was Angel he envisioned himself rocking with on the front porch of the house he someday hoped to build.
“The best years of my life.” She leaned toward him and added, “Stuart was my best friend.”
Her words stirred something in Trey’s gut, but before he could give it much thought or even respond, Angel appeared in the aisle way.
His best friend.
Trey attempted to stand only to have his movements
Trey stood halfway up, debating on whether or not to go after Angel and make sure she was all right. It wasn’t like her to get air sickness. Hell, she flew several times a year on travel agent ‘fam’ trips to all sorts of destinations, and not once did he ever recall her mentioning that flying bothered her. But her face had been undeniably flushed when she’d darted out of their row.
Angel’s abrupt departure and his near departure from their seats had the elderly woman in the aisle seat staring his direction. The book she’d been reading when the plane took off was now lying in her lap.
“She’s not quite herself today,” he explained with a smile as he lowered himself back into his seat to await Angel’s return.
A couple of minutes later, he cast a worried glance back over his seat. No sign of her yet. A worried frown tugged at his mouth.
He motioned for the flight.
“Can I get you something?” she asked.
“Could we have a couple of ginger ales, please?”
The attendant left and then returned a few moments later with their drinks.
“Thank you.” Trey lowered his lap tray and placed their glasses on it.
“Honeymooners?” the elderly woman beside him asked when the flight attendant walked away.
“Excuse me?”
She motioned toward Angel’s empty seat, then to him. “You two. Are you kids on your honeymoon?”
Kids?
“No, we’re not.”
“Oh, wait, let me guess. I’ll bet you two are flying to Vegas to get married? Am I right?”
He laughed at her assumption. “Afraid not. Angel and I are just friends.”
Speaking of which, Trey cast another glance in the direction of the restrooms at the back of the plane. He really should go check on her.
“Honey, I’ve been around more years than I care to admit, and I know the spark of romance when I see it. You two definitely have it.”
It appeared the poor woman’s eyesight was going. Trey shook his head. “Angel’s—”
“Just the prettiest little thing,” she finished for him, and then patted at her blue-grey, fresh-from-the-beauty-salon do. “What I wouldn’t give to have hair like hers. Mine used to be long in my younger days. Men have a thing for long hair. But then I guess you already know that.”
He nodded.
“And those eyes. Are they real?”
“Real?”
“As opposed to those newfangled colored contacts,” she clarified.
“Oh, yeah, they’re real.” He twisted around to get a better view of the aisle way behind them.
Damn it, Angel, you’re starting to worry me.
“No wonder you’re so smitten with her.”
Smitten? That caught Trey’s attention. Angel was his friend. That was all. But the woman was right. Angel did have great hair and incredible eyes.
“You’re such a nice looking couple,” she continued with a warm, grandmotherly kind of smile. “And let me tell you, Las Vegas has the sweetest little wedding chapels. My late husband and I, God rest his soul, renewed our vows last year at the Little White Wedding Chapel for our fiftieth anniversary. Stuart was such a romantic. We were married in that same chapel all those years ago and I’m so glad he had us do it again before he...well, you know.” The old woman’s smile sagged and her eyes grew misty.
“Fifty years?” Trey tried to imagine spending that many years with any of the women he’d dated, but oddly enough it was Angel he envisioned himself rocking with on the front porch of the house he someday hoped to build.
“The best years of my life.” She leaned toward him and added, “Stuart was my best friend.”
Her words stirred something in Trey’s gut, but before he could give it much thought or even respond, Angel appeared in the aisle way.
His best friend.
Trey attempted to stand only to have his movements
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