“Is that a Jack Sprat reference?” Her soft jaw was set, those astounding green eyes hot with anger. “If so, I’d really appreciate an attempt to restrain your asshole tendencies, at least until we get back to L.A.”
Jack Sprat? What the fuck?
He racked his memory, but—
Jack Sprat could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean.
“Or am I the troll under the bridge, while you’re the golden prince?” Splotchy color bloomed on her cheeks, and she snatched up her plate and marched toward their chairs. “Either way, stow it, Woodroe.”
She thought he was making fun of her weight or calling her ugly. And for the first time in their brief acquaintance, she didn’t look calm at all. She looked murderous and—edgy. Distressed.
Shit. Now he couldn’t even taunt her about using an obscenity in front of children. At least, not until he tried to explain himself better.
In her seat, she’d angled herself away from him and toward the window, and he refused to speak to the back of her head. After a moment of thought, he set his plate on a nearby table and dragged his own chair in front of hers, close enough that their knees almost touched when he sat down again.
He ducked his head to catch her eye, with no success. “Normally, I’m loath to defend myself from charges of assholery, as they’re typically well warranted.”
“They would be,” she muttered.
“I only meant that you seem even shorter up close, when we’re both standing. That’s all.” He waited until her suspicious gaze slowly, slowly rose to meet his. “I swear, Lauren.”
At long last, she inclined her head in acknowledgment and let out a slow breath.
When she spoke, her voice was heavy with fatigue. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
For once, he didn’t leap to fill the silence, and he was rewarded for his restraint.
“I didn’t sleep well. I mean, I never sleep well these days, but I especially didn’t sleep well last night.” Her small hand swept toward the runway, where a commuter jet was racing down the asphalt and poised to take flight. “I hate flying.”
This close to her, he could hear her swallow.
“I know all the science behind it, but when you’re actually in the plane, it just seems soprecarious.” Her pale lips pursed. “Plus, I always end up with bruised thighs from the armrests. And sometimes they have trouble finding a seat belt extender, or my seat-mates complain I’m taking up too much room. It’s not fun.”
At the thought of a stranger insulting her, his skin prickled beneath his soft tee. “If anyone is rude to you, I can handle it.”
“No.” When he started to protest, she spoke over him. “No. I don’t trust you not to escalate things, and I told you I didn’t want to be the means by which you got into trouble with Ron and R.J. I meant it.”
He glowered at her. “You meant you didn’t want to have to report on me, not that I couldn’t—”
“I’m not entertaining discussion on the matter.” She lifted her chin and looked down that crooked nose at him. “Thank you very much.”
When he made a sort of growly sound in his chest, she rolled her eyes.
After a moment, though, she spoke again, her voice softer. “I mean that sincerely, by the way. Thank you for the offer.”
“Seats in business class are much wider than in coach,” he sulkily told her, lower lip still poking out a tad. “That should help with the bruising issue.”
“Good to know,” she said, then shoved at his chair. “Now move away and let me eat my sandwich in peace, Woodroe.”
He left his chair exactly where it was, and it relieved his feelings considerably.
As he munched on his deliciousness-filled baguette, he gave her a few minutes of quiet and studied her. The lines on her face had smoothed somewhat, even if those shadows beneath her eyes hadn’t gone anywhere. She wasn’t tugging at her ponytail anymore, and she was actually tapping the screen of her e-reader to turn pages at regular intervals.
“Stop staring at me.” She didn’t look up, which was extremely dissatisfying.
Making his reluctance clear with a heavy, drawn-out exhalation, he turned his attention to the windows, where an enormous plane was taxiing down the runway. It caught flight and winged toward the sun in a graceful swoop.
He barely noticed.
