Rainwater Kisses (The Kisses 2)

"Come with me."

"What? What do you mean?" I sat back down. Owen's eyes were bright, a smile beginning to form around the edges of his mouth.

"Come with me on this business trip."

"I can't. You know I can't," I said, shaking my head.

"Why?" His eyes searched mine. "Money? Not a problem. Work? You can get the time off. Come travel with me. I'll even talk to your boss. I'm sure you can get the time off if I made a sizable donation to the hospital."

Fear lurched in my stomach. "I can't."

He peered at me, his eyes hopeful. "Why, Kaylee?"

I picked furiously at the cuticle on my thumb. If I kept this up it would bleed, but I didn't care. I took a shaky breath, embarrassed and afraid to tell him. "I hate flying. And I'm not good in strange places."

"You flew to Emma's wedding," he said encouragingly.

"Because it was her wedding. You don't even want to know what it took to get me through the flight." That hot sticky feeling was growing in the back of my throat and I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to cry.

"We can work around that. At least think about it. We could be together this way." I could hear the excitement in his voice, and I wanted to feel it too. I wanted to be with him. I just didn't want to leave Iowa to do it. I nodded, though.

"I'll think about it."

Thunder rumbled, and I heard a splash of rain hit the window as a storm rolled in. Owen grinned at me, hope and excitement radiating from him. I knew I wasn't going to really have to think about it. For the chance to be with Owen, for the chance to make this relationship work, I would get on a plane. I'd become a flipping flight attendant if it meant I could be with Owen.

"I'll try it. But you're going to have to have some serious alcohol on the flight."

Owen's face lit up the room, and he pulled me into the bed with him. As he kissed me, I knew I could do this. As much as I hated flying and traveling, I would give it a chance for Owen. For this.

Rain hit the window harder as Owen kissed me. I could do this. I could do anything if I was with Owen. He wrapped his arms around me, the heat of his skin comforting as we nestled back into the sheets. He was back asleep in minutes, his breathing deep and even. Thunder rattled the windows, but he didn't stir as the rain pounded against the glass outside. It was as if the rain was washing away my worries, bringing change and something new.

Chapter 14

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I could do this.

Owen squeezed my hand reassuringly, and I gave him a nervous smile. The plane moved forward and my hand clamped down on his. I could do this.

When Emma had told me that her wedding would be in the Caribbean, I almost didn't go. But she was my sister, so I had dutifully started working on overcoming my fear of flying. I bought books, listened to 'get over your fear' programs on tape, I even met with a hypnotherapist. In the end, the only thing that had gotten me through that flight was a bottle of whiskey.

The plane began to speed up, the small private jet starting its sprint down the runway. I could feel the plane star to vibrate, the hum of the engines drowning out all other noise. I wanted to scream for it to stop, but I was determined to do this. I held Owen's hand in a death grip. I was pretty sure when we got off the plane that he was going to need X-rays and a cast. That was, of course, if he even managed to have a hand left, on account of the way I was squeezing. He just smiled at me and let me keep tightening my grip.

In deep, out slow. In deep, out slow. I was resolute not to use the little pills in my pocket. I could do this. Just don't concentrate on the plane. It seemed as though the plane was getting smaller, and I could feel the miles of empty space increasing beneath me. It was such a long, long way down.

"Just think of it like being in a car," Owen said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. He leaned back in his leather seat, looking far too at ease for being suspended in a tin can a mile above the ground.

"Right. A car. Just a really weird car," I said through gritted teeth. My jaw was going to hurt tomorrow. This was just a quick flight to New York. We were leaving a little early so I could spend some time with Emma in the city before we took the long flight to Dubai. I had no idea how I was going to survive.

"Something to drink?" a stewardess asked, her blue uniform crisp and perfect. I wondered if she liked her job. I wouldn't have.

"Vodka, please. A big shot of vodka," Owen told her. "And an iced tea for me, please."

The stewardess smiled warmly and placed a hand on Owen's shoulder as she walked past. I didn't even care. If she brought me the vodka and we didn't die on this plane, she could kiss him. She returned in a moment, a tall glass of tea for Owen and a nice tumbler of clear liquid for me. She even brought a little bottle of cranberry juice.

"Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else," she said, handing me the drinks. I took a big gulp, feeling it burn down my esophagus. I could do this, and a little liquid courage would help.

"You're doing great," Owen said as he sipped on his iced tea. I envied how he could look so relaxed on this flying death trap. "We'll be there in two and a half hours."

"Right. Because that's practically no time at all."