I throw a thumbs-up to her and keep walking. The closer I get, the less the music carries, the more I can hear of their conversation.
And the more I hear, the slower is my approach, the lighter are my steps.
“… fly out in the morning and be back by Monday night,” I hear Marie say.
“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea anymore.”
“Why not? She has her friend here. And I haven’t been out to the villages in months.”
Marie is trying to get Jonah to fly her out west. They used to do that all the time, back when he lived in Bangor. She’d come in on the regional airline that travels between Bangor and Anchorage daily. They’d spend days together, hopping from village to village, Marie the Animal Crusader, saving lives. She could find another pilot to fly her around, of that I’m sure.
But it’s becoming more and more clear to me that she doesn’t want another pilot.
She wants mine.
He reaches up to work his fingers through his hair, sending it into disarray. The black shirt I bought him clings to his frame, showing off the angles of his muscular shoulders and his trim waist. I can’t help but admire him, even as my fists tighten by my sides and I imagine storming in between them to scream my accusations in a fit of rage.
“Yeah, I know, but things aren’t great right now,” Jonah says, a touch more softly.
I falter. My stomach, already tight, clenches.
Aren’t great?
Jonah thinks things aren’t great? Things between us, he means, obviously.
I mean, I know, after this morning, that things couldn’t be called perfect, and yet hearing Jonah say it out loud—to her—sparks a fresh wave of surprise and hurt and anger.
“Hey, we need to get Diana home. Can you unlock the Jeep?” I call out, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. I pray they can’t hear the strain in my voice.
Jonah turns, sees me approaching, and his eyes soften. “Yeah. Of course. She must be dying.” He digs into the pocket of his jeans and hits the key fob. A chirp sounds, followed by Diana’s desperate cry of “thank you!” that makes him chuckle.
I could turn back and leave them, but Marie has kept Jonah from me long enough tonight, and so I approach until I’m melding into his chest, roping my arms around his back, and pushing away all emotions but my overwhelming love for this man.
Jonah doesn’t hesitate, enveloping me into his warmth. “Ready to go?”
I rest my chin on him, tip my head back, and purr, “Yes.” My gaze traces his lips for a moment before giving him an intense look, trying to convey everything I want to do to him tonight in that single glance.
“Got it,” he murmurs, his own eyes flaring with heat. To Marie, he says, “I’ll give you a call next week.”
“Sure. Okay.”
I catch a hint of disappointment in her voice, and it brings me a spiteful bubble of satisfaction.
I had no idea what I was going to say on the way over, but it hits me then. “Hey, Marie, I think Toby would love to go out to dinner with you sometime.” An innocent-enough suggestion.
“Oh. Really?” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. A tell, I’m beginning to notice, for when she’s uncomfortable or nervous.
“Yeah. You should ask him.” I level her with a look while clinging to Jonah. “He’s single.”
Jonah is not.
She opens her mouth to speak but falters, her cheeks flushing as she steals a glance toward Jonah. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good night.” She ducks her head and climbs into her truck.
Jonah sighs heavily as he leads me out of the way. “What was that about?”
“What do you mean?” I feign innocence.
“Calla …”