“It started when I was in high school. Do you remember that flight out of Indonesia that essentially disappeared?” She murmured she did, so I went on. “Once I heard the news, I had to know everything. From there, I went down a rabbit hole and never really came out.”
“Is your interest in plane crashes and disasters, or everything about them?”
“Everything. I have an app that tracks the planes flying overhead in real time. Want to see?”
“Of course I do.”
She wasn’t humoring me to be nice. Bea’s interest was honest and enthusiastic. For a long while, we played with the app, watching flights all over the world. I told her about different models and configurations, and she told me about the first flight she ever took. I had a tendency to drone on when I got excited, but Bea kept the conversation going, peppering me with questions, sharing her own thoughts. It wasn’t a one-sided lecture. It was aconnection.
I couldn’t explain how satisfying it was to share this with her in a real way. She was just as engaged as I was, and that was rare for me. This wasn’t something I talked to Sam about. Every time I opened the app, he rolled his eyes, but I didn’t think Bea ever would. It was somewhat of a deep revelation for me.
Then I realized I hadn’t asked her any questions aboutherinterest—another bad habit of mine.
I set my phone aside and swept my gaze over her hair. The top was arranged in pretty swoops that must have taken time and effort to achieve. “Are these victory rolls?”
“Yeah. Do you like them?”
“I do. Very much. Your hair was the second thing I noticed about you.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “What was the first? My boobs?”
“No. That was the third.”
She propped herself up on her elbow, putting her face above mine. “Tell me right now.”
“I overheard you being mean to one of your customers, and I liked it.”
“You should smile more, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, I’d rather be dead.”
“Oh,someone doesn’t want a tip tonight. Let me explain something to you about the world—hey, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you.”
“I’m sorry. You were talking to me? I assumed you were narrating your inner monologue. My bad.”
When I recounted the scene, Bea started giggling, letting her forehead fall onto my shoulder. I froze at the feel of her warm weight on me, but only for a beat before wrapping my arm around her shoulders to hold her there. She settled against me, the front of her body aligned with the side of mine in a way that felt impossibly right, like we’d done this so many times, our bodies had evolved into corresponding shapes that fit like puzzle pieces.
“That might be the best compliment anyone has ever given me.” Her fingers trailed over the collar of my shirt. “Please tell me you’ve never told a woman to smile more.”
I chuffed. “It’s never crossed my mind. Why would I say that? If I wanted more smiles, I would work to make it happen.”
She burrowed her head more deeply into my shoulder. “I could really like you. Why do you have to live in California?”
That was the question, wasn’t it?
I was a troubleshooter. A fixer. I saw a problem and worked the angles until I had a solution. This one…wasn’t complicated.
I didn’t have to live in California.
In fact, I couldn’t think of a single reason to stay.
Chapter Twelve
Bea
The Past
IwentbacktoTore’s hotel with no intention other than wanting to spend more time with him. If this was a one-night thing, I’d get all I could from it to keep in my memories.
