Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Darryl
I leaned against the gate counter in Denver, the night sky dark beyond the terminal windows, my flight bag resting at my feet.
The return trip to Chicago was a couple of hours away, and the crew was scattered, some grabbing snacks, others lounging in the waiting area after our long shift.
Ashley had been all over me on the flight out, her hands on my arm, her teasing loud enough to keep Mike and Kelly poking at us.
I’d played along, enjoying it more than I’d admit, even if it was just a show for her mom.
She’d wandered off with Riva to the bathroom a minute ago, and I was skimming the manifest when she came back, her grin wide and bright, grabbing my hand and tugging me away.
“Hey,” she said, her fingers warm in mine.
“We’ve got time. Let’s sneak out for a quick date. ”
“A date?” I said, letting her pull me along, her energy infectious. “Right now?”
“Yeah,” she said, weaving us through the thinning crowd, her grip tight. “Night shift’s over, flight’s not boarding yet. Come on, it’ll be sweet.”
“Alright,” I said, matching her pace, my heart picking up a bit as she glanced back with that smile. “Where are we headed?”
“Food court,” she said, slowing as we hit a quieter stretch of the concourse. “Just a quick bite, you and me. No crew, no fuss.”
“Sounds good,” I said, squeezing her hand lightly, liking how it felt; her pulling me along like this was real.
I knew I liked her, more than I’d let on, and I wanted her to feel it, even if she thought it was all pretend.
We reached the food court, the buzz of voices fading as she led us to a tucked-away corner near a burger stand, a small table by a window with a view of the tarmac lights.
It was empty here, just a lone worker mopping in the distance, no familiar faces watching.
She let go of my hand quickly, stepping back with a softer smile, less playful now.
“Okay,” she said, sitting across from me, her hands resting on the table. “No one’s around. We don’t need to pretend here.”
I froze for a second, her words hitting me like a cold splash, a little ache settling in my chest. But I kept my face steady, nodding as I sat down, pushing it down. “Yeah,” I said, my voice even, setting my bag beside me. “Fair.”
She grabbed a menu, flipping it open, her eyes scanning the options. “So,” she said, keeping it casual. “What should we do next? After the wedding, I mean.”
“Next?” I said, leaning back, keeping my tone light, grabbing the other menu to fiddle with. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well,” she said, looking up at me briefly, then back down. “We’re doing this for Mom, right? Two weeks, backyard, dress, all that. But after, how long do we keep it going? When do we file for divorce?”
The word stung, sharper than I expected, cutting through the warmth I’d been feeling.
I liked her, damn it, more than just this fake setup, but I didn’t let it show, swallowing the hurt.
Instead, I reached across, taking her hand again, my thumb brushing over her knuckles, soft and slow.
“Let’s think about that after the wedding,” I said, holding her gaze, my voice gentle.
“We’ve got enough to deal with now. Just you and me, enjoying this, okay? ”
She blinked, her brows lifting slightly, then smiled, warm and real, squeezing my hand back. “Okay,” she said, her voice softening. “After. Deal.”
“Good,” I said, lifting her hand to my lips, kissing her fingers lightly, watching her eyes widen a bit. I let go slowly, flagging down the worker nearby. “Hey, can we get two burgers? Fries too?”
“Sure,” the guy said, scribbling it down. “Drinks?”
“Coke,” I said, glancing at her with a grin. “You?”
“Same,” she said, nodding, and the guy walked off. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, her elbow on the table, her smile lingering. “This is nice,” she said, her voice bright. “Quick little date before we fly.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning in too close to catch the faint vanilla of her shampoo. I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers brushing her cheek. “Real nice.”
“What’s your favorite burger topping?” she said, tilting her head into my hand a bit. “Random question.”
“Onions,” I said, grinning, my hand lingering a second before dropping. “Grilled, not raw. You?”
“Pickles,” she said, laughing softly, her foot nudging mine under the table. “Extra crunchy. Mom hates them, says they ruin the vibe.”
“Her loss,” I said, chuckling, nudging her foot back, keeping it there. “Pickles are the best.”
“Totally,” she said, her smile growing as she sipped her Coke when it arrived, the ice clinking in the cup. “What else do you like? We’ve got two weeks to pull this off, might as well know.”
“Steak,” I said, grabbing my drink, taking a slow sip, my eyes on her. “Medium rare. You?”
“Pizza,” she said, setting her cup down, wiping a drop off her lip with her thumb. “Pepperoni, extra cheese. Simple but perfect.”
“Classic,” I said, reaching over to wipe a stray bit of condensation off her hand, letting my fingers linger. “We’ll get along just fine.”
“Hope so,” she said, her foot pressing against mine a little harder, playful. “You’re stuck with me for now.”
“Stuck’s not the word,” I said, grinning, resting my hand on hers again, tracing her knuckles with my thumb. “I like having you around.”
She laughed, soft and warm, her eyes crinkling. “Sweet talker,” she said, turning her hand to lace her fingers with mine. “Keep it up.”
“Always,” I said, squeezing her hand as the food arrived, burgers stacked high with fries on the side. I slid her plate closer, picking up a fry and holding it out to her. “Try this.”
She leaned forward, taking it from my fingers with her mouth, grinning as she chewed. “Thief,” I said, grabbing one from her plate, popping it in mine.
“You started it,” she said, swiping a pickle from my burger, biting into it with a crunch. “Fair game.”
“Fair,” I said, taking a big bite of my burger, the grilled onions sharp and good.
We ate slowly, she stealing fries, I snagging pickles, trading bites like it was nothing.
I reached over mid-meal, wiping ketchup off her chin with my napkin, my fingers brushing her face gently. “Messy,” I said, grinning.
“Thanks,” she said, catching my hand before I pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to my palm. “You’re handy.”
“Anytime,” I said, my chest warming up, liking how she looked at me, soft and easy.
We finished up, chatting light stuff, her laughing about a kid who’d asked for extra napkins to build a fort last flight, me telling her about a time I’d dodged a storm over Texas.
It was sweet, her foot still against mine, my hand finding hers again, holding it across the table.
I didn’t want it to end, even if she thought it was just for show.
“Date’s a win,” she said, standing, grabbing her bag. “Back to the airport?”
“Yeah,” I said, picking up mine, stepping close to slip an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a quick hug. “One more thing,” I said, kissing her forehead softly, letting my lips linger.
“Sweet,” she said, smiling up at me, her hand on my chest. “Let’s go.”
We walked back, her leaning into me now, my arm staying around her as the concourse filled up again.
The crew was at the gate, Mike sipping coffee, Kelly on her phone, Riva chatting with the agent.
Ashley tucked herself against my side, her arm looping through mine, and I kept her close, liking it too much.
“Hey, you two,” Mike said, smirking as we walked up. “Where’d you disappear to?”
“Quick date,” I said, my hand resting on her hip, squeezing lightly. “Food court.”
“Date?” Kelly said, laughing. “You’re stuck together. What’s going on?”
“Just happy,” Ashley said, wrapping her arms around my waist, grinning up at me. “He’s my guy.”
“Guy,” I said, kissing the top of her head quickly, playing it up but meaning it. “She says so.”
“Ugh,” Mike said, shaking his head. “You’re too much. When did this start?”
“Forever ago,” Ashley said, tiptoeing to kiss my cheek, giggling as I shifted. “Right, babe?”
“Yeah,” I said, my hand sliding to her back, rubbing slowly. “Sure.”
“What’s with all the touchy stuff?” Kelly said, crossing her arms. “You’re throwing me off.”
“They’re in love,” Riva said, stepping over with a grin, winking at Ashley. “Can’t you see?”
“Love,” Mike said, snorting. “I need a memo. This is nuts.”
“No memo,” I said, grabbing the manifest, keeping Ashley close. “Flight’s up. Let’s roll.”
“Roll,” Riva said, laughing. “Good luck with her hanging on you.”
“Always,” Ashley said, hugging my arm tightly, her hand brushing my side. “He’s mine.”
“Yours,” Kelly said, rolling her eyes. “You’re wild.”
We boarded, the teasing fading as we got to work, but I kept her near, my hand brushing hers when I passed the galley, her grinning back. It wasn’t just pretend for me, not anymore, and I wanted her to feel that, even if she didn’t know it yet.