Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she felt Ryder’s movement in the seat next to her, wasn’t surprised when his hand covered hers again. Strong, warm, talented hands that repaired his patients’ hearts.
If only he could repair all the broken things about hers.
“I’m sorry, McKenzie.”
“Me, too,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed as if that could somehow block out that she’d told him what she’d never told Paul.
Why was that?
She’d planned to marry Paul. Ryder was just a colleague who was pretending to be her boyfriend for a weekend wedding. No. Big. Deal.
Only his kiss had been a big deal.
Sure, the flip-flops her belly had done were likely the result of the plane lifting off the ground and nothing to do with his kiss. But Ryder had done what she’d have argued was impossible. He’d distracted her through takeoff.
She might make him a permanent travel accessory.
“What happened?”
She let out a slow breath, trying to push some of her sorrow out along with the air. His was a natural question, just not one she wanted to answer at any time, much less while ascending to thirty thousand feet.
“I suppose now is the worst possible time for me to ask, eh?” He made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “I really am sorry, McKenzie.”
“It was a long time ago.” Although that day, the aftermath, was heavily imprinted upon her mind to where she could relive the tragedy daily in vivid detail if she’d allow herself to. She didn’t.
She certainly wouldn’t allow the memories to take hold while on a plane.
“He was a pilot.” Hello! Where had that admission come from? What was she doing? She did not want to talk about this.
Opening her eyes, she glanced toward Ryder, saw the empathy and interest in his gaze, and heard herself tell him things she didn’t normally say out loud.
Normally?
She never said them out loud.
Never. Ever. Ever. Not to anyone.
“Dad owned a small plane and gave flight lessons.” Once upon a time she’d loved to fly. She’d been too young to know any better. “He thought he was invincible.” She paused, swallowed the lump in her throat. “He wasn’t.”
Ryder’s thumb brushed over her hand in a soothing caress. “You were six?”
More aware of his touch than she should be, especially given their conversation, she nodded. “My brother was ten.”
Ryder’s brow lifted. “You have a brother?”
Despite the waterworks threatening to spill from her eyes, she laughed at the surprise in Ryder’s voice. “When I claim him.”
“You’ve never mentioned a brother.”
“There are a lot of things I’ve never mentioned to you,” she reminded him. “We’re work colleagues. Why would I tell you about my personal life?”
Ryder’s silence felt heavy between them.
“That may have been true in the past,” he finally said. “But now I’m your pretend boyfriend so you should spend the next five hours filling me in on what I need to know for us to pull this off.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she admitted, her mind racing through all the things she’d dwelled on since he’d agreed to go with her to Tennessee. “We should stick to the truth.”
“You’ve changed your mind about our pretending to date each other?”