Chapter Eight Nathan
Chapter Eight
Nathan
What amazing magic is carried in an airplane’s wings.
—CHARLES LINDBERGH
I don’t want this night to end. We exit the restaurant onto the dark courtyard lit by patio lights.
Distant crashing waves from the inky ocean create peace.
A gentle breeze ripples Claire’s hair behind her, mermaid style.
She might as well be a siren with the way even moonlight kisses her fair skin.
I know she’s taken. Not only that, but she turned down superstar Andrew James, so it’s ridiculous to think I’d ever have a chance anyway. Were that my goal.
Instead, I’m here to make her smile. Listen to her laugh. Encourage her to believe God has plans to prosper her, not to harm her—even as I struggle with believing that promise for my own future.
Despite being extremely satisfied by my bacon-wrapped sirloin, I use it as an excuse to extend our enjoyment. “I need to burn off a few of the calories I just consumed. Let’s walk along the cliff.”
Vincent chuckles. “You should have saved half of it in a doggy bag for tomorrow the way I did.”
I pat my overstuffed middle. “Don’t I know it.”
Desiree looks toward the black-and-white image of the moon’s reflection on water. “It is a gorgeous night.”’
“Yes, it is,” I agree. Though I’m still waiting for the one response that matters.
Claire studies the ocean too, inhaling a deep breath of salty air. “I’m going to pass. This is only the first day of our trip, and I’m already exhausted. Plus, I want to try calling my boyfriend again.”
I nod while pressing my lips together to keep from protesting. Why isn’t her boyfriend answering her calls?
“Understood, baby.” Desiree waves her away.
“Thanks again for dinner.”
Vincent crosses his arms, doggie bag hanging from one hand. “I usually wait for the last night of a trip to splurge, but it was good getting to know you better. Also, we had to celebrate Nathan here being tied with me for points in our landing game, since that’s not going to last.”
“Hey.” I act offended, though he’s not wrong.
Claire giggles, so I up the ante.
“Double or nothing, buddy.”
He arches graying eyebrows. “River cruise in San Antonio?”
Cruising along the Riverwalk in brightly painted flat-bottomed boats is more like a Disneyland ride than an actual cruise. However, it’s cheaper than the dinner he just paid for, and it would be a great excuse to hear Claire laugh some more. “You’re on.”
Desiree lifts her chin toward Claire. “We’re definitely going to prosper from their little gambling addiction.”
“Bet,” Claire jokes, already backing toward the hotel.
She can make me smile too. Her jokes do anyway. The leaving part not so much. “Good night, Claire,” I call after her.
She waves before turning her back. I could jog after her and join her for another elevator ride, but I’m the one who suggested walking along the cliff edge.
Had she stayed, I might have even suggested we take the stairs down to the beach.
Vincent and Desiree won’t go down there because Desiree’s bad knee makes the stairs too hard to climb.
I face the expanse of ocean. It has to be the best view of any overnight trip. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Silence. I glance toward the couple to find them glancing at each other.
“Are you talking about the view or time spent with you?” Desiree’s strong tone dips in challenge.
Not her too. I bestow a withering look. “The view, of course.”
“That’s good.” She waves a finger at me. “Because if you’re interested in anything else, I’d tell you to guard your heart. You don’t want it getting broken again.”
I rub a hand over my mouth to wipe away anything she might read into my expression. While I can make bets with Vincent straight faced, this would be my tell in the dating game. “She’s got a boyfriend, Desiree.”
“You never heard of unrequited love?”
Ouch. “We only met yesterday.”
“You never heard of love at first sight?”
“You’ve been watching too much Hallmark.”
Vincent chuckles. “True story.” He reaches for Desiree’s hand, pulling her toward the pathway. “Leave the boy alone. Rather than lecture him, let’s just show him what real romance is.”
They do make it look good. Easy. Effortless.
Meanwhile, my love life could be compared to that of a kindergartener with a crush on his teacher. But like I said, Claire and I met yesterday. This hollowness inside my chest isn’t because of her. It’s because there’s no one.
“You two go ahead. I think I’m done for the day too.”
“Aha!” Desiree grins triumphantly over her shoulder. “So you didn’t really want to go on a walk—you wanted to go on a walk with her.”
I narrow my eyes in mock indignation. “I just don’t want to be a third wheel.”
Her trill fades as the two continue past the pool, but her words echo in my soul. Who am I guarding my heart from? Nobody is trying to take it.
Some crew prefer late-night shifts so they don’t have to wake up at five in the morning, but when you start early, you get done early. For us, that means lunch is Tex-Mex on the Riverwalk in San Antonio.
The combination of steamy air, mariachi music, and the scent of spicy meats certainly seems to be good for Claire.
She’s wearing her hair in a high ponytail today.
It swishes whenever she turns her head, making her appear more laid-back than the bun does.
She also forgot her normal sunglasses at home, so she picked up some cheapies at one of the many local souvenir vendors to keep from squinting.
The lenses of her new shades are decorated with Texas state flags painted in the shape of hearts, and I can’t keep from laughing every time I look at her.
She sets her fruity drink on the iron table so she can gesticulate along with her story.
“The baby cried all through takeoff until we were finally able to remove our seat belts and Desiree offered to hold her. We aren’t supposed to hold passengers’ babies unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I’m sure the whole plane would have agreed it was absolutely necessary. She’s a baby whisperer.”
Vincent nods at his wife’s natural maternal gift. “She’s had plenty of practice. Our infants knew how to make a racket.”
Claire claps her hands. “You know the best part of this whole story? She called the baby ‘little one.’ It cracked me up because she calls everyone else baby, but then she calls an actual baby ‘little one.’”
Vincent throws his head back in laughter. “I’d never thought about it before, but that’s so true.”
Desiree gives him a playful shove. “See if I call you ‘baby’ again, baby.”
He points and hoots louder. “You just did.”
I chuckle along. “She can’t help it.”
Desiree pushes her chair away from the table. “Go ahead and keep laughing. I’m gonna use the restroom before we get on a boat.”
She saunters away, and this only fuels our hilarity.
Vincent scrapes his chair back too. “I’d better go after her and apologize.” His big grin tells us he’s not too sorry.
I swivel to share the joke with Claire and find her leaning unexpectedly close. For some reason she’s not smiling, but man, those glasses.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I wipe a smile away and rewind my memory for any possible faux pas. “On a flight? Did you break an FAA regulation?”
“I don’t think so, but Desiree seems colder today.”
I dip my eyebrows. Desiree sassed her husband, but that’s normal. “She can be a little salty at times. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”
Claire bites her lip. “I thought maybe she was hurt that I didn’t go on the walk with you guys last night.”
I shake my head. Desiree hadn’t been hurt at all. Just warned me about getting hurt.
“Then maybe my dark mood about dancing might have brought her down. I’ve been trying to come across as more upbeat today.”
I lift my chin to challenge the idea her happiness is all an act. I want her new job to make her happy for real. As would Desiree. “She seemed pretty compassionate when you talked about it.”
“I thought so too.” Claire leans away, and my eyes follow.
Unlike Claire in her crazy shades, I’m wearing my normal aviators, which makes it safe to study her covertly. While she considers Desiree, I consider her.
Of all the women I could have been drawn to after Joey, why Claire?
Could it be because she’s taken, so I’m not really risking my heart? That might make our interactions feel so natural. Neither of us is putting on a show for a good impression.
Or is there more to it? If Claire were single, would I still feel this attraction?
While she’s pretty, she’s not a supermodel, like one would expect to see quarterback Andrew James dating. I wonder what drew him to her? I guess there’s a list of other things to admire. Her simple elegance. Quick wit. Authenticity. Natural charm.
Or could it be her broken heart?
This last option gives me pause. Heartbreak is usually associated with relationships, but hers comes from a shattered dream.
While the star quarterback might have seen Claire’s brokenness as something to take advantage of, I see it as something relatable. She’s not the only one who’s been lost.
Of course, Andrew James could have simply appreciated a challenge.
“What do you think?” she asks.
I’m still lost. I rub my jaw, ashamed to admit it. “About what?”
Unfazed, she props an elbow on the table and rests her cheek in her palm to better face me. “Is it because I told the baby story about Desiree? Is that’s what’s bothering her? It’s just that I made last night all about me, and I wanted to put more of the spotlight back on her.”
Claire tries so hard, and I don’t think she’s failed here. In fact, Desiree’s so-called coldness could simply be a figment of Claire’s insecurities. “Nah. It’s totally something Vincent and I would tease her about.”
“Hm.” Her lips pout for a moment before she drops her arm and sits taller. “Let’s talk about you. Why’d you become a pilot? Have you traveled the world with your flight benefits? Where’s your favorite country? What’s your heritage?”
Her abrupt change in topic catches me by surprise. I admittedly feel the warmth of flattery before realizing she’s trying to win me over in the same way she’s attempting to win Desiree. It’s as endearing and ridiculous as her silly sunglasses, and I laugh again.
She shakes her head. “What? I’m being serious.”
“I can’t—” I motion to her face. “I can’t take you seriously in those.”
Her lips finally turn upward. “Is that why you’ve been smirking all through lunch?”
“You tell me.” I slide off my shades and reach for hers. “May I?”
She tugs them off. “If I can wear yours.”
I hesitate. I need my aviators to fly. “Not permanently.”
She swaps, and when she sets my gold metal frames with reflective lenses on her pert little nose, flying becomes the least of my worries.
Because while ballerinas who watch Forensic Files and smell like cherry blossoms aren’t quite my type, flight attendants who wear aviators and devour chips and salsa definitely are.
To keep her from noticing the attraction in my eyes, I jam on her silly glasses.
Her hands clasp over her heart, and for a moment I fear I was too late. But then she rocks in silent laughter.
I relax into my iron scrollwork chair. I’d wanted Claire to be happy, and now she is. I just hadn’t expected it to require making a clown out of myself. However, I’d wear these glasses for the rest of the trip to see that smile.
“You look . . . you look . . .” She’s giggling too hard to complete her sentence.
“He’s looking at you with hearts in his eyes,” Desiree deadpans from beside me.
I hadn’t noticed that she’d returned, but now I know the reason she’s cooled off with Claire. Because she’s not referring to the hearts on the sunglass lenses.