Her eyes show me she’s not buying what I’m selling. “Are you saying you’re going to protect me, Royce?” she asks.
Is it me or is her voice suddenly huskier? Sexier? “I won’t let anything happen to you.” The words are meant to be teasing, but something shifts inside me. For the first time in a long time, I feel… something. I just can’t describe what it is.
“Have you always lived in Nashville?”
“Yes. Well, except while in college. I went to Ohio State. When I graduated, I came home and then took over the family business soon after.”
“What do you do for fun?”
I pause as I think about her question. It’s been way too long since I’ve done something just for the fun of it. “I work a lot.”
“Surely you take time for you?”
I notice that her breathing is almost back to normal, and she looks like she’s relaxing. I’m not a fan of all the small talk, but I don’t mind it with her. Besides, it’s keeping her from a panic attack. It’s for the greater good of her and everyone on board that I keep her calm. “Music. That’s one of the best parts of living in Nashville. I used to go out and listen to live bands a lot in college, and I used to be somewhat of a movie buff. I also spend a lot of time at my family’s lake with my brothers.”
“Am I being punked?” She tilts her head up and then looks over her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Did Hadley put you up to this?”
“Hadley? Your best friend? I don’t even know a Hadley. Are you feeling okay?”
I’m watching her intently, and that’s how I see it. The way her face transforms with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. The fear from earlier washes away as happiness takes over. Her smile pulls the breath from my lungs as I look at her. “That’s my thing. Music and movies. That’s why I started looking for new jobs in Nashville. Well, that and I missed my best friend, but the music scene is on point. Had has sent me some videos when she and her fiancé, Derek, have been out, and I’ve never been so jealous.”
“Nashville is a good time,” I say, nodding. “As long as you’re a country music fan?”
“I’m a fan,” she assures me. “Especially the older stuff, you know like Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings. I grew up listening to those guys with my grandpa.” Her eyes soften. “I miss him.”
“What about your parents?” I find myself asking. “Siblings?”
“No siblings and my parents are gone too. They passed away in a car accident about three years ago. They were coming home from a weekend getaway from Vegas. They were two miles from home. Hit head-on by a drunk driver.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t tell her that my theory of being safer in the air is even more justified. I don’t want to hurt her like that. Besides, something tells me that she knows all too well the dangers of both. Fear is a real thing.
She nods just the slightest bit and gives me a watery smile. “What about you? Parents? Siblings?”
“Yes. My parents have been married for thirty-four years, and I have four younger brothers.”
“Four?” Her eyes widen. “Your poor mother.”
“Hey, we weren’t that bad.” She gives me a look that tells me we both know I’m full of shit, and I’m surprised when a laugh escapes my lips. “Fine, we were that bad, but it was a good time growing up. My parents made time for us, and we always had someone to play with or a lookout when we were getting into trouble.”
“Five rowdy boys. Your mother is a saint.”
“That she is.” I smile at her, and she returns it easily. Her eyes no longer hold fear, but laughter, and for some odd reason, I want to puff my chest out because I did that. I eased her fears. It’s been way too long since I’ve felt… anything, and here she is a beautiful stranger, pulling out of me what I thought was locked away a long time ago. This day couldn’t get any weirder.
“I’m sorry about earlier. Thank you for helping me. I’m embarrassed you saw me like that.”
With a mind of its own, my hand reaches out and cradles her cheek for the second time. Her skin is soft and warm against the palm of my hand. “We all have fears, Sawyer.”
“Oh, yeah?” she murmurs. “I bet you’re not afraid of anything.”
I’m afraid of many things. Not once have I ever been compelled to speak them aloud, other than to my brothers. Until now. “I have fears,” I say before I can think better of it.
“You?” Her voice is soft. “I can’t imagine that you’d be afraid of anything.”
“Lots of things.” I search my mind for something that I’m willing to share. “When I was nine, my two younger brothers and I were playing on our grandparents’ farm. The middle brother decided it would be cool to toss his stuffed monkey that he took everywhere into the trunk of an old car. He was five at the time, and my other brother, who was with us, was seven. Anyway, as the older brother, it was my job to rescue the damn monkey. I climbed into the trunk to retrieve it. The weather was starting to get bad, and I was irritated. I knew that Grandma would be mad if we stayed out in the storm. So, I was in the trunk, my hands wrapped around the monkey, when suddenly it shut me in. I’ll spare you the details, but the car was old, the trunk was huge, and it had been sitting out in that field longer than I had been alive. There were bugs, and it felt as though I was in there for hours.”