Damn Wright (The Wrights 2)

She looked at the woman. “I have to get off the plane. I’m sorry. I just, I can’t go.”

The flight attendant’s pretty face tightened with concern. Passengers around her murmured.

“I just have to get this damn thing…” She ignored everyone, braced her foot against the armrest of her chair, wrapped both hands around the handle of her carry-on, and pulled.

A hand closed on top of hers. Big and warm. A man’s hand. “Let me help.”

Emma’s head swiveled toward the voice. To Dylan. Standing right beside her wearing a backpack and a soft smile.

“The cabin door is closed,” came over the intercom again. “Please take your seat.”

“Sir.” The flight attendant drew Dylan’s gaze. “You need to return to your seat.”

“Actually, I was hoping this could be my seat.” He looked at the older woman seated next to Emma. “Ma’am, I have a first-class ticket I’d like to trade with you.”

“Oh.” Her face brightened. “Really?”

“Really.” He handed her the ticket, and the woman looked from Dylan to Emma.

Emma’s head cleared from the shock. “What are you doing?”

He reached overhead and gave her carry-on a shove back into the bin. “Is your bag up here, ma’am?”

“Yes, it’s the blue one.” She met Emma’s gaze, uncertain, but cautiously giddy. “Emma, is this okay with you?”

Before Emma could answer, Dylan pulled down the blue bag and heaved his backpack into the empty space.

Dylan looked at Emma. “Tell her it’s okay, Em.”

“Yes, tell her it’s okay, Emma,” one of the doctors from the opposite row repeated. “Or we’re going to miss our connection.”

“Of course, of course.” Emma stepped out of the way while her coworker cleared the seat and one of the flight attendants helped move the woman and her luggage toward first class. It was so good to see Dylan, her heart hurt. “What are you doing?”

“It’s obvious there’s only one way we’re going to get this plane off the ground.” Dylan pulled something from his jacket pocket and dropped to one knee.

The twenty-two-year-old admin gasped. A few other females joined the chorus. Murmurs erupted around the cabin, and people craned their necks and stood to get a look at what was happening. No one was complaining anymore. Even the flight attendant was staring, openmouthed.

Emma’s gaze jumped from Dylan’s face to the diamonds sparkling on a ring in the box. Her heart floated into her throat, and she pressed a hand against her forehead. “Jesus Christ.”

“I made the mistake of letting you go once,” he said. “I’m never—never—making that mistake again. If you marry me, Emma, I will follow you to the literal ends of the earth.”

The plane went completely silent. Dylan’s face blurred in her vision, making Emma realize she was crying.

“Yes,” she blurted, then started laughing. Laughing with utter relief. “Yes, yes, yes.”

The plane erupted in cheers. Dylan slid the diamond band on her finger, stood, and pulled her off her feet in a bear hug.

Over his shoulder, Emma caught sight of the pilot, who’d come into the back of the plane. He was grinning and clapping along with passengers and crew.

“A celebration is in order.” The pilot’s voice boomed through the plane. “Drinks on the house.” The clapping passengers started laughing, because, of course, even coach passengers got a free soft drink. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Emma slid into the middle seat, and Dylan strapped in beside her. Then he lifted the arm between them, wrapped his arm around her and cuddled her close. “Jesus Christ, I thought I was going to miss the plane.”

She tilted her head back, and he kissed her again. Everything in her world automatically righted. All her fears dropped away. All the guilt and hurt melted, leaving room for nothing but gratitude, joy, and love. So much love.

She pulled away. “I thought I wasn’t going to be able to get off the plane.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as they taxied to the runway. “Looks like we had the same idea.”