Page 76 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“One can only hope.”

When the flight attendant came by with drinks, Kannon ordered a ginger ale, which made me laugh again.

“What’s so funny about ginger ale?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing. It’s just such a grandma drink.”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Grandma drink, huh? Says the woman with dry, boring nuts.”

“Sorry my nuts aren’t exciting enough for you,” I defended, while he laughed playfully at my expense. “They’re a good source of… something.”

“Yeah?” Kannon leaned back in his chair, popping a few of the nuts in his mouth before continuing. “I’d wager they’re a good source of nothing but salt. And cotton mouth.”

I couldn’t help but smile. His teasing manner was reminiscent of the old Kannon. For a moment, I realized that we sounded like one of those couples you’d spy on during a flight. Comfortable and familiar like we had been together for years instead of days.

He wiped his hands on his pants. “What else you got in there?” He nodded at my purse. “Something sweet. Or stout. I could use a shot.”

I rolled my eyes. “No liquor. But I have cookies or a candy bar.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of sweets. “Hit me with the cookies.”

I rummaged through my bag, pulling out the pack of chocolate chip cookies. He reached out his hand to take them, but I pulled them back with a teasing grin. “Promise you won’t be an alpha jerk when we land?”

Kannon rolled his eyes. “I can’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said, trying to stifle his laughter. “I don’t take shit, and if you’re with me, you’re certainly not going to take shit either.”

“Wow, always the defender,” I said, tossing him the packet of cookies. “Noted.”

He caught it and tore into the packaging, not caring about the crumbs that spilled onto his jeans. He munched happily, his eyes closing for a moment in sweet indulgence.

I watched him with a soft smile. The man had been through so much, but still his spirit shone through.

“Did I earn my knighthood?” he asked.

“What?” I blinked, wondering if I had dozed off and missed part of a conversation.

“Since I’m vowing to protect you, I feel like that grants me knighthood. You can call me Sir Kannon.”

I raised an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. “Sir Kannon? Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, you’re eating chocolate chip cookies like a five-year-old, not like a knight,” I pointed out.

“Did you know,” he began while waving a half-eaten cookie in my face for emphasis, “that during the medieval ages knights ate whatever they could get their hands on? They didn’t care how it looked.”

“Are you trying to impress me with your knowledge of the eating habits of medieval knights?” I asked, feigning astonishment.

“Maybe.”

“I would have thought you forgot about your knighthood. Do you remember when we used to watch Princess Bride and that Heath Ledger movie…” I trailed off. “What was it called?”

I knew exactly what the name was, but I wanted to know if he still remembered.

“A Knight’s Tale.”

I grinned. “How many times have you watched it in the last ten years? Be honest.”

He shrugged. “Once or twice.”