champagne, Nat pushed the mask to her forehead. “Where are we?”
Her warm pillow shifted as a hand now rested on her breast.
She was not in bed with Jake number six back in Denver. She was cozied up to a completely different Jake on her flight to Portland.
The safe, comfy feeling disintegrated.
She’d made it, and now she’d have to contend with her cousins—all by herself.
She tried to edge her way out of Jake’s embrace, but underneath that suit, the man had some serious muscles, and she couldn’t get him to budge.
Nat glanced around. There wasn’t a passenger in sight. “Where is everyone?”
“They’ve all deplaned,” the man answered.
“Oh! Wow.”
It was pretty creepy being the last one on a plane.
“I’ll give you a minute,” he said and headed toward the flight crew assembled near the front of the aircraft.
She released the handful of Jake’s shirt, then closed her eyes and listened to the soothing rise and fall of his breath. Another few seconds couldn’t hurt. She’d always craved this kind of closeness, and Jake number six was not a cuddler. Actually, neither were Jakes one through five. She let the memory of the Jakes of her past fade away and inhaled this Jake’s clean scent of soap with a hint of sage.
With her head nestled in the crook of his neck, she couldn’t see his face, so she reached up and ran her fingertips down his jawline. He hummed a satisfied little sound that sent a warmth emanating through her chest.
“Jake, we’ve landed in Portland. It’s time to wake up,” she said and stroked his cheek.
“Hmm,” he replied. But her plan to ease him out of slumber got cut short when the flight attendant, now joined by the pilot, the co-pilot, and two other flight attendants crowded in around them.
Trapped in one hell of a bear hug, she smiled up at the flight crew, then switched from a gentle stroke to a wake-the-hell-up slap.
He turned his cheek and tightened his grip. Holy Mary! Was this man half boa constrictor?
“Jake, seriously, they need us to get off the plane.”
“Plane?” he mumbled, stroking his thumb across her breast.
“Yeah, and you’re feeling me up in front of the flight crew.”
“What?” he exclaimed, releasing his grip and looking back and forth as if he’d woken up on an alien planet.
Natalie nodded to the flight crew. “Would you mind giving us another minute? I promise that we’ll be off in a jiffy.”
Jake ran his hands down his face. “I don’t usually sleep well. I must have conked out.”
She gestured toward the front of the plane where the friendly-skies flight crew looked considerably less friendly. “We better go. I think we’re holding them up.”
Jake nodded, then made an awkward gesture toward her breasts. “Sorry about that.”
She stood in the aisle and waved him off. “No worries. You were asleep, right?”
He joined her in the aisle and removed their bags from the bin above their seats. “You think I felt you up on purpose?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant that it was probably an accident,” she tossed back.
He held her gaze. “Heels, if I were to feel you up on purpose, you’d know it.”
Heels.
Not counting Nat, Nat the little brat—a gem her cousins cooked up—she’d never had a nickname.
“So, you think you’re super awesome with the ladies?” she challenged.
He shrugged, and she laughed.
“Men.”
“You mean Jakes, in your case. It’s probably a good thing you’ve given them up,” he added with a sly smile.
He had her there—the jackass.
But he wasn’t a jackass. He’d gotten her through security, and he’d stuck by her while she watched her boyfriend suck face with some random woman.
And then it hit her.
She’d told everyone she was bringing a date—bringing Jake. Natalie Callahan, the loser in love and life, had emailed her entire family that, for the first time ever at a Woolwich family event, she would be accompanied by someone who thought the sun rose and set with her smile.
Oh, God! She’d used those exact words, too.
Her stomach clenched as she imagined Lara and Leslie’s smug faces when she arrived, boyfriendless.
Jake pressed his hand to her lower back, jolting her from her doomsday scenario. “Are you all right?”
She shook off the impending disaster. “Yeah.”
He leaned in. “Do you need to throw up? You look a little green.”
“No, I’m thinking of my family,” she answered as they exited the plane and walked across the jet bridge to the terminal.
“The perverts?” he asked.
“The what?” she exclaimed as they continued down the concourse.
“The podiatrists. On the plane, you