“Poppet, I’ve flown in the dark before.”
“Okay,” she replied swiftly, thinking it best that she didn’t think at all about him flying in the dark. It was hard enough driving in the dark when you had headlights and even high beams.
But dark sky was just dark.
Did they have lights on planes?
And, if they didn’t (and even if they did!), how would he know his way? How would he see if something was flying at him, a bird, another plane?
Belle knew there were instruments and all that kind of stuff, still her heart skipped a beat.
“Lots of times, my love,” he continued to try and reassure her.
“Okay,” she lied.
“I’ll be fine.”
Belle could take no more and therefore, as ridiculous as it sounded and as crazy as she knew he’d think she was, to protect her fragile sanity she started chanting, “La la la, I’m not involved in this conversation, la la la.”
She heard him chuckle before he changed the subject and prompted, “Baron and Gretl?”
Happy to be on a much safer topic, she replied, “Of course I’ll walk them.”
“If it rains, ask Lila to do it,” he ordered.
Belle walked from her drafting board to the window and looked out, unseeing.
“Oh, so it’s okay if Gram slips on the wet, treacherous cliff path but not me?” Belle tried to tease, slightly embarrassed about her chanting and wondering vaguely how long it would take for him to grow tired of her neuroses. It took Calvin, if memory served (and it did), two weeks and three days after their honeymoon to grow tired of it.
“She’s lived a full life,” Jack teased back audaciously, pulling her from her thoughts and startling a giggle from Belle but she stopped laughing when she heard him murmur in his low and rumbly voice, “Jesus, I love that sound.”
“What sound?” Belle whispered, caught up in his voice.
“The sound of you,” he replied and finished, “happy.”
That trill went up her spine straight into her scalp and she felt her belly dip and he wasn’t even looking at her. He wasn’t even in the same town as her.
“Jack –” she replied softly, warmth in her voice.
He cut her off but there was warmth in his voice too, “Don’t wait up for me, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Good-bye, poppet.”
“’Bye, Jack.”
Then he rang off.
And she stared out the window, smiling to herself before her eyes caught on something and focussed.
It was that man she’d seen days earlier, the ruggedly handsome one with the dark brown hair. He was standing in the same spot as he was before, his head tipped back and he was looking at her through the window.
She took three hasty steps back and just stopped herself from falling into a crouch.
“Holy heck,” she breathed, thinking that was not a matter of coincidental eye contact. He was there for a reason and he was watching her.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she retreated three more steps and considered calling Jack back. Then she considered screaming for Dirk.