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The prospect of a public outing with Veronica resounded like a victory gong in his mind. Yet, beneath the resonating triumph was an undercurrent of apprehension. He had seen her crumble under the weight of her anxiety before, but never out in the open, never in front of prying eyes that didn’t understand her struggle.
“I have a better idea,” he said and stood, pulling her to her feet. “Do you trust me?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes round and more green than brown in the softening light. “Always.”
“Good. Let’s put the dogs inside. We’re going for a drive.”
* * *
Anticipation hung heavy in the car between them as Connelly drove through the winding country roads, leaving behind the familiar streets of Steam Valley. The setting sun cast dappled shadows across the car’s interior.
Veronica folded her hands on her lap, fingers intertwined in a grip that betrayed her nervousness. “Where are you taking me?”
He glanced at her, his dark eyes filled with mischief. “You’ll see.”
A few miles later, they approached a small private airport, and the sight of the runway and hangars gave Veronica an inexplicable sense of nostalgia. She hadn’t been near an airport since long before the crushing weight of agoraphobia had grounded her. The once-familiar landscape now felt foreign yet strangely alluring.
Connelly parked the car, and they stepped out into the crisp morning air. Veronica was immediately drawn to the sleek, silver aircraft resting on the tarmac like a magnificent bird poised for flight. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the streamlined design, the smooth curve of its wings promising the freedom of the open skies.
“Is that...?” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the plane.
“Your very own chariot for the day,” Connelly replied, sweeping his arm toward it in a dramatic flourish.
She stared at the plane, and a long-dormant ember of excitement flickered to life. The thought of taking to the air once again, of feeling the engine’s rumble beneath her and seeing the vast horizon spread out before her, was too tempting to resist.
Without a word, she strode towards the plane, inspecting it from nose to tail. “She’s beautiful. Is she yours?”
His grin was all crooked boyishness. “First purchase I made with my book royalties.”
She smirked at him from under the wing. “But I thought you just jump out of planes. You don’t know how to fly them.”
Connelly ducked under the wing and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Instead of tensing at the unexpected contact, she relaxed into him. She enjoyed the heat emanating from his body, and the scent of his cologne filled her senses.
“I didn’t buy her for me.”
She turned around to face him. For a moment, she couldn’t help but get lost in the intensity of his gaze. “Then who did you buy her for?”
“You,” he replied, his voice low and husky as his thumb stroked over her cheek. “You were meant to fly, Veronica. It’s time to spread your wings again.”
Her heart raced with equal parts fear and anticipation, but whether that was from his closeness or the chance to break free from the prison of her own making, she wasn’t sure. Probably a mix of both.
She hugged him. Tight. Leaned into the comforting warmth of his body and closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of his lips brushing the top of her head. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way about him— Connelly was her friend, practically her brother. But the way he looked at her and touched her made her feel like she could conquer the world.
Could she really do it?
Could she fly again after all these years?
God, she wanted to.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of his leather coat and aftershave. It mingled with the familiar scents of oil and fuel, creating an intoxicating aroma that made her head spin. She would have stood there in the hangar with him for the rest of her life, but all too soon, he pulled away. She missed the heat of him instantly and opened her eyes to see him gesturing towards the cockpit.
“Shall we?”
She had to swallow hard before she could find her voice. “Yeah. Let’s fly.”
As they approached the cockpit, her palms dampened with sweat, and her nerves began to fray at the edges. The plane seemed impossibly large, engines looming like great beasts waiting to be unleashed. Which was ridiculous because she had flown much bigger planes than this 9-seat turboprop. But as she climbed into the pilot’s seat and strapped herself in, apprehension gave way to excitement.
She’d missed this.
