This was for the best. Because Dakota was right—she needed to ditch the tour as soon as they touched down in Cairns and flee to Sydney.
Absolutely not spend six days touring Australia with Mr. South Dakota.
Even if she could feel his gaze on the back of her head at that moment.
And liked it.
The plane leveled off at cruising altitude. The seatbelt sign dinged off. Around them, passengers settled in—some reading, some sleeping. She glanced back.
Gerald was still gesturing animatedly at Dakota five rows back.
“He seems like a good man,” Mags said quietly.
Jayden blinked. Pulled her attention away from row twelve. “I’m sorry?”
“Your young man.” The older woman had introduced herself when Jayden buckled in. Maggie—“call me Mags”—Winston. She now set aside her military-history book and glanced at Jayden. Maybe mid-seventies, she wore her silver hair pulled back in a neat bun, tortoiseshell frames perched on her nose. “Dakota, was it?”
“He’s not—” Jayden stopped herself. Started again. “Yes. Dakota.”
“Special Forces, if I had to guess.” Mags adjusted her glasses. “The way he moves. My husband was the same. Never quite left the service, even after thirty years out.”
Jayden chose her words carefully. “He was military. A long time ago.”
“And now?”
“Security consultant.”
“Mmm.” Mags smiled slightly, a knowing expression that suggested she’d heard that cover story before. “That’s what my husband told people too, toward the end. Easier than explaining the rest.”
Jayden didn’t ask what “the rest” was.
They sat in silence for a moment. The plane hummed. Flight attendants moved up the aisle with drink carts.
“When you find the right one, you just know,” Mag said.
“Know what?”
“That you’ve found someone who sees you. Really sees you. Past all the armor you wear.” Mags’s expression softened. “My husband used to have nightmares. Terrible ones. For years, he wouldn’t let me close when they happened. Thought he might hurt me.” She paused. “The first time let me wake him up and talk him through it—that’s when I knew we’d make it. That he trusted me enough to be vulnerable.”
Jayden’s throat tightened.
Last night. The nightmare. The way Dakota had looked at her when he woke—wild and lost and then, gradually, safe.
“We’re only going as far as Cairns,” Jayden said. She didn’t know why she was telling this stranger the truth. “The flight, I mean. After we land, I have . . . work. Things I need to do. He has his own plans.”
“So you’re not going on the tour?”
“No.” Oddly, she had to sort of push the word out. What? She didn’t seriously consider . . . No. And yes, she still felt his gaze on her. She refused to look back, find herself caught in his blue eyes.
Mags was quiet for a long moment. She folded her hands in her lap, and Jayden noticed the worn gold band on her left hand—thin from years of wear, probably never taken off. “My husband’s work took him away for months at a time. Sometimes I didn’t know where he was, and I didn’t even know if he was alive.” Her voice stayed steady, matter-of-fact. “But I always knew that when he came back, he’d find me. And I’d be waiting.”
Jayden leaned her head back, closed her eyes. Thought about Dakota’s hand wrapped around hers during the landing yesterday. About the way he’d talked about his grandfather, voice soft with grief and love. About making tea at midnight while he sat on a bed, head in his hands, trying to come back from a nightmare.
About this morning. That smile. The saved chair. For her. As if they were a team.
Behind her, five rows back, Dakota laughed at something Gerald said. The sound carried over the drone of the engines—warm and genuine and alive.
She’d known him for thirty-six hours.
