Deflated, I nod and tell her that would be great. After I thank her, she walks away, leaving Callum and me in our bubble of tension.
He finally twists his head to me. A hint of amusement rests behind his stare. “Is a screaming toddler or an obnoxiously chatty seatmate really preferable to me?” he says.
“Seeing as neither one is threatening to put me out of business like you are, I’d welcome them with open arms.”
I lean my head back and close my eyes, steeling myself for whatever comeback Callum has. But there’s no reply. Only the hum of the engines gearing up as we speed down the runway.
We glide into the air, and I wait. For a snide remark, a scoff, anything to signal Callum’s distaste for me. Still nothing. When I twist my head to look at him, he’s staring at the seat ahead of him again. But his face isn’t hard or smug anymore. Rather, something sorrowful taints his otherwise neutral expression. As we cut through the sky, I wonder what he’s thinking.
A minute later, he turns to me. “Can we try something?”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I know . . . Can we just call a truce for this flight? No talk about work or the festival or anything else that’s transpired between us.”
Red ignites his cheeks when he looks at me. For a moment, I’m puzzled at his sudden blushing, but then the crystal clear image of him on Little Beach in his birthday suit flashes to the front of my mind. Oh right. I’ve seen him naked. Deliciously, deliciously naked. I tuck away the image. He probably doesn’t want to talk about that either.
“Like a time-out?” I ask.
“Yes. Exactly.”
I rub my face as the heat makes its way up my neck, my gaze falling to my lap. “I can agree to that.”
“Shake on it?” He holds his hand out to me. “We’ll be pleasant to each other for the rest of this flight?”
I clasp his hand in mine and nod. A phantom spark identical to the one that hit me the first time we shook hands glides through me. And then I remember just how quickly Callum let go of me the day we made our Maui Food Festival wager, like I was on fire. Like he couldn’t bear to spend an extra second touching my skin.
This time, I’m the one who lets go first. “Deal.”
* * *
• • •
An hour into our truce, my eyes are blurry from trying to make out the words on the page in front of me. Somehow just being this physically close to Callum has affected my ability to read. The text in this book may as well be Wingdings for as much sense as it makes in my distracted state.
I give up and shove the book back in my purse. I contemplate shelling out the money to pay for Wi-Fi on this flight so I can mindlessly surf the web just to distract myself, but I decide the expense isn’t worth it. I scan through the free movies on the screen in front of me, but nothing catches my interest. And I don’t think I could even begin to focus with Callum next to me.
Turning slightly against the headrest, I sneak a peek at him. He’s staring at the screen of his phone, earbuds in his ears. What kind of music does this hot young curmudgeon like to listen to?
A different flight attendant walks by, eyeing him like a porterhouse steak. I roll my eyes, even though I sympathize with her appraisal. Jet-setting Callum is quite the eye candy in straight-cut trousers and a snug long-sleeve T-shirt the exact same shade as his hazel eyes. When she offers us drinks from her cart, I decline. Callum asks for ginger ale, but the smitten flight attendant says in an overly sweet tone that they’re out.
“Can I get you anything else? Sprite? Coffee? Pepsi?”
“No, thank you.” He focuses back on his phone.
She tucks her light brown hair behind her ears and leans closer toward him. “You sure?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Not even water? I’d hate for you to go thirsty.”
Good Lord. Only one of us is thirsty, and it’s definitely not either of the people currently seated.
“Um, Sprite is fine. Thanks.”
She leans her hand on the seat in front of him. “I absolutely adore your accent,” she says through a giggle.