“Old-fashioned gully washer. We’ll be fine, Mandy,”
His large hand patted her thigh and quickly withdrew. Like heat lightning, a little shimmer of electricity shot through her. That was the first time he’d touched her since Abilene, gratefully. The thought of that first night in the hotel room still brought heat to her cheeks. Each night in every hotel room had been another test of willpower. So far, she’d passed the tests, but barely.
Now here she was, smack-dab in turbulence that mirrored her emotions.
“Can you guarantee that?”
The radio crackled with a string of nonsense words.
“Pretty much. I’ve clearance to increase altitude. We’ll try to ride over it.”
“We’re going higher?” She felt as pukey as a green-gilled fish.
“Best way to avoid the turbulence. That’s what the big jets do. We can’t climb as high, but we’ll do our best.”
The plane shuddered as it bumped and dipped along. Ty had both hands on the steering column, his focus locked on the panel of instruments.
Rain pummeled the glass. Wind thrashed the cabin.
She bit her lip and tried to hold in the shrieks climbing up her throat.
She yelped just as the plane bucked, and her stomach roiled.
“I’m going to be sick,” she managed to gasp out.
“Bag’s under the seat.”
She fumbled, finding it and a square cushion, which she left on the floor.
“You have a parachute with this?” She placed the opened bag under her chin.
“That’s a floatation device. Besides, no way you’re shooting out of a plane at this altitude, honey. We’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Trust might be easy to request—but hard to grant as they tossed about.
The plane dipped, then rose again as the pelting rain sent rivulets of water down the glass windshield. No sense looking out the window. She couldn’t see anything but the eerie gray darkness of a huge abyss.
“Just a few more miles of this. Hang in there,” Ty said.
He was flipping this and that switch on the panel. Did he really know what he was doing? The plane shuddered, and the queasiness in Mandy’s stomach ended up in the bag.
The rain ceased as abruptly as it had begun. The shuddering stopped, and with the tick of a clock, they were flying once again through settled clouds and aqua-blue skies.
“You okay?” Ty said, a grin on his face as he peered at her bag.
She crumpled the top closed, hoping it didn’t smell too bad. “I will be.” It was mortifying enough to have lost her lunch while Ty had remained the model of calmness. She’d never get used to flying in these little planes, she realized. Just like she’d never get used to being with Ty Martin. And yet here she was.
“Good. We’re almost home.”
Home? Where was that now? The ranch house she couldn’t face? Her mother’s house, where she no longer lived? Ty’s hotel suite, where she’d merely be a guest in a man’s room?
Mandy headed for the airport’s lounge as soon as she disembarked the plane so she could fix her makeup, do a quick brush of her teeth, rinse her mouth, and try to calm the wings still flapping in her stomach. As she exited the bathroom, however, the queasiness she felt from the plane ride lurched into downright nausea as she watched a willowy blonde tap her high heels across the ragged linoleum floor and fling her arms around Ty’s neck as he stood talking to the man behind the counter. Mandy stopped in midstride when the blonde, who looked like the one in the picture on Ty’s phone, planted a long, full-mouth kiss on Ty’s lips.
“Surprised?” The blonde giggled, her curvy body still wrapped around Ty’s. “When you said you were working on a special project and too busy to see me, I thought I’d come down here for the weekend and see if I couldn’t coax you into a little time off. But when you weren’t at your hotel room this morning, I figured the next best place to find you either coming or going was to check on your plane—and I was right!” She squealed the last words.
Now that was a woman who obviously was used to getting what she wanted. And given the way she was put together, tall, thin, and with a bust measurement unnaturally out of proportion to her narrow hips, she probably wasn’t insecure enough to think a man might not be pleased to see her. Dressed in spiked white heels, tight white skinny jeans, and a sleeveless, strapless pink top, even Mandy had to admit she looked like a female version of a sugary confection.
Irritation spiked in her. Not that Mandy was jealous. How could she be jealous when Ty meant nothing to her? But still, the woman had nerve. Legally, Ty was her husband, and they had both agreed to be faithful to their vows for the six months. Miss Sugar was not part of the deal.
Finding her legs, Mandy strode forward. She knew the exact minute Ty spotted her, because his face colored crimson.