air?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, his beautiful blue eyes looking deep into her own. There was no amusement in them. There was no snappy comeback like she’d half expected. Instead, he raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “We still have a couple hours ahead of us in the back of a car when we get off.”
The corners of his lips turned up in the hint of a smile. “And you want us to be on good terms before I get you in the back of a car—and we get off?”
She should have known he’d make it sound like that. “Jesus, Ryan! Is that all you ever think about?” She nodded toward the flight attendant. “It’s on offer there if you want it, and I’m sure you have plenty of other options. But I’m not one of them.”
His face turned hard. All the amusement gone as he stared back at her. “You never found your sense of humor again, then?”
She let out a harsh little laugh. “Not for some things, no—you killed it.”
He blew out a sigh and sat back in his seat. He stared ahead before he spoke again. “I guess we’ve answered your question about clearing the air. It’s not possible, is it? You were right to start with. Our best option is to just avoid each other.”
She nodded. She should be pleased. That would make life so much easier. But for some stupid reason, she felt a heavy weight of disappointment settle in her chest. And that stupid lump was back in her throat.
~ ~ ~
Ryan got to his feet as soon as the seat belt sign turned off. He couldn’t stand to sit next to her for another second. He had to get away from her. He’d rent his own damned car and drive back up to the lake. Dan was crazy if he thought that cooping him up with Leanne was a good idea. It’d most likely end in murder—and he wasn’t even sure whose.
He stepped out into the aisle and Leanne got up and moved to the space in front of his seat. Ryan couldn’t explain how he knew, but he could feel that the guy behind him in the aisle was eyeing her up. He turned. He was right. He scowled at the guy, and he took a step back. People seemed to do that a lot.
Leanne was looking at the overhead bins. She must have a bag in there that she wanted down. He wiped his palms on his pants. His choices were to get it for her himself or to give the asshole behind him an in.
“Do you need a bag down?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She’d probably assumed—just as he had—that he wasn’t going to speak to her again.
It felt like a truce when she nodded. “Please.” She pointed above his head. “It’s the pink one in there.”
He couldn’t hold the smile in. “Of course, it is.”
As he lifted it down and handed it to her, it took him right back to that first weekend again. From the look on her face, it had the same effect on her.
“Thanks.”
He nodded. He wanted to say something. Maybe they could call a truce. Maybe they could find a way to be okay with each other. If they could do that, then perhaps, they could even work together … Jesus! What was his problem when it came to her? Why did he always try to find a way for things to be okay between them? And why, after all these years, had he not gotten it through his thick skull that things could never be okay between Leanne and him? What did okay even mean? He didn’t know what exactly it meant, but he did know that it meant something tame, something ordinary. Neither of which were words that could be applied to Leanne or to him and certainly not to what happened when they came together.
He knew that what he should do was get off the plane and go find himself a rental car. He should walk away and not look back, but he’d never been able to do that when it came to her. Instead, when the door was open and the people in the first row left, he stood back to let her out in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he did it so that the guy behind him wouldn’t get the chance to talk to her, or so that he could watch her ass as she walked