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“I do. And I love you back.” He kisses me, and I inhale his familiar scent and the smell of snow on him. “Come on. Let’s make sure we can get reception in the car while we wait.”
Griff Parker
“Thanksfortheride,Mr. Carmichael.” The Carmichaels’ private jet is roomy. Not that I would know the difference between a cramped and roomy jet. I’ve never flown this way before—never even got on an airplane before college—but even I need to assume their jet is nice. There are a few rows of captain seats in the front, and in the back, there’s a small office space, complete with a sofa and a discrete television.
Rory Carmichael, the head of the Carmichael corporation, sits back in his seat and waves me off. “Not at all. Cord is one of Linc’s best friends, and Linc is practically a son to me. There’s no way we could let him miss his own wedding. We’re only returning home a day early. And besides—,” he grins at his wife, “—Mrs. Carmichael is a romantic. She couldn’t pass up a chance to be a groom’s rescue team.”
Shea’s mom swats her husband but then leans over to kiss his cheek.
“We appreciate it.” I glance at where Cord’s staring at his phone, probably checking the weather again, while chewing his fingers to the quick. “My girlfriend, Penny, adores your daughter.”
“Penny.” He rubs his chin. “Shea admires her. Says she’s a fighter.”
“She is.” It’s true, in so many ways. I suspect Mr. Carmichael’s talking about Penny’s attack. Her ex-boyfriend hurt her, and she ended up in the hospital with broken ribs. But he’s right about Penny’s grit in more ways than one. I’m in awe of her as I watch her grow stronger every day—mentally and physically.
An intercom next to us buzzes, followed by a voice. “Mr. Carmichael? A word?”
Mr. Carmichael’s forehead creases, and he picks up the phone next to him. It’s old-school, with a wire. “Yes?” He pauses, listening, but his brows drop lower. “Closed? Where are they rerouting us?” Another pause. “If that’s as close as we can get, then. Thank you, Robert.”
“Sorry, boys. But they’re putting us down in Harrisburg.” Mr. Carmichael rubs his chin. “It’s the closest open airport. The east coast is getting pummeled.”
I glance outside the window, but I can’t see anything in the darkness. “Harrisburg is still almost two hours from Chesterboro.”
“Yeah.” Shea’s father nods, his mouth tightened. “In ideal weather.”
Cord curses under his breath. In my hand, my phone reads just after eleven o’clock at night. We’d been scheduled to arrive at the Wilkes-Barre Scranton airport around midnight. My brother Jake has a four-wheel drive on his old Bronco, and he planned to meet us there. Now, we’re still going to have hours of traveling ahead of us, in the dark, even if we can find a rental.
“I can’t imagine that’s the best we can do.” Mr. Carmichael’s got the look of someone who’s used to getting his way. He stands. “Let me just talk with Robert, make a few calls. See if we can get any closer.” Without another word, he heads toward the front of the plane.
Mrs. Carmichael fingers her phone, chewing on her lower lip. “Let me just check in with Shea. The truck was there the last time I spoke with her, but that was an hour ago. They should almost be at Chesterboro.”
She gets up, too, and heads for the desk area, her phone already to her ear. I glance at Cord. “We should tell the girls,” I say. What I mean is that he should talk with Hannah.
“Yeah.” But he only glances at his phone where it’s face down on his knee.
I scowl at him. “I don’t get what’s going on.” He planned to call her when we were on the road in Scranton. Said that by then, everything would be fine. “Is this cold feet?”
He glares at me, his expression harsh enough to burn. “Fuck no. Hannah means everything to me. I can’t wait to marry her.”
“Then what’s your deal?”
“She’s pregnant.” He runs his hands over his face. “She’s pregnant, and I don’t want to stress her out. This is already stressful enough.”
I blink at him. “Pregnant.”
“Almost out of the first trimester.”
“Is she… okay?” My sister-in-law, Emily, had a hard pregnancy last year. I don’t think my brother breathed a full breath until she delivered.
“She had some early bleeding, but the doctor said she’s been perfect since then.”
I sigh in relief. “That’s good. Really good.”
“Yeah, but stress isn’t good for her.”
I narrow my eyes. “You think she’s not already stressed? It’s a fucking Nor’easter. She won’t relax until she sees your face.”
“I know.”
