The supervisor cleared his throat, shattering my fear, returning to my problematic booking. “No worries. It’s just a bit strange that there’s more than one Evermore party on this flight and you’re not related.”
Yet another strange message.
Another unknown issue.
I don’t want to get on the plane.
I didn’t speak as the Evermores laughed, took their passes, and drifted down the air-bridge.
Another gust of fear darted down my back.
Get it together.
They didn’t seem anxious. They had children to protect. Instincts behaving themselves. Nothing was going to happen.
Pinching my wrist, I grounded myself firmly in reality and shoved away scepticism of flying.
Looking up, my gaze fell on a man with sexy dark hair and the most insanely bright blue eyes I’d ever seen.
He jogged toward the counter, handing over his boarding pass in a rush of crumpled clothing and messily packed messenger bag.
The blonde agent blinked, eyeing his clean-shaven jaw, his height, and well-formed biceps. He wore hard work like an aftershave while the provocative black rims of his glasses firmly placed him as intellectually mysterious.
My songwriter’s brain went into overdrive, penning him a song of outdoorsy carpenter or wildlife patroller. Sunshine existed in his gaze, wildness wept from his flawless skin. I’d never seen a man so tamed by scruffy jeans, grey t-shirt, and glasses but somehow still look so recklessly undomesticated.
His boarding pass went through without complaint.
His eyes met mine.
He paused, lips twitching into a small smile. A bolt of interested attraction sparked from me to him. My mouth responded against my will, parting beneath his attention.
Who is he?
Sunlight reflected off his glasses, blinding me for a moment.
“Have a nice flight, Mr. Oak.” The blonde agent returned his pass.
The connection between us vanished as he pinched it from her fingers and hoisted the bag strap up his shoulder. “Cheers.”
An accent. English, by the sounds of it. Before I could conjure more tales of fancy, he disappeared down the air-bridge.
A moment later, the supervisor clapped his hands. “Hurrah. All done.” Giving me a new boarding pass, he grinned. “All sorted, Ms. Evermore. You’re free to board. Sorry for the delay.”
Taking the documentation, I put one foot in front of the other.
I ignored every warning bell in my blood.
I followed the Evermore family, the enticing Mr. Oak, and willingly gave my life to fate.
I put my previous fear down to overwork and stress.
I convinced myself I was reading into things, that disasters happened to other people; that life didn’t send messages to those about to die.
I didn’t listen.
I ignored the signs.
I got on the plane.
Chapter Two
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
I HATED FLYING.
The only reason I agreed to fly halfway across the bloody world was to complete my apprenticeship under one of the best builders in the style of architecture I wanted to specialise in.
For the past six months, I’d lived on his estate. I’d listened to my mentor by night. I’d worked beside him by day. He taught me how little I knew and how much I needed to learn if I wanted to excel in the profession I’d chosen (not to mention reminding me how close I was to throwing it all away).
To work with wood, to build and create with a natural resource—first, you had to understand how it worked. My teacher had come from a long line of craftsmen from furniture makers to sky-scraper designers.
The fact he had Inuit blood and could trace his family tree back to the natives on his mother’s side was a plus for learning, not just about how to hammer a nail or finesse a dovetail joint, but how to nurture the trees we used. How to take a wooden plank and turn it into a home.
I’d learned more living with his wife and two sons, absorbing every lesson, than I ever did at university (or at my more recent abode). Then again, that education had been of a different nature.
You promised you wouldn’t think about it.
For the hundredth time, I gritted my teeth and pushed away thoughts that only pissed me off and hurt. Clenching my fists, I followed the herd down the air-bridge and onto the plane.
I was sad to leave.
But eager to put a stamp on my new career. My new life. A life I was eternally thankful for after everything I’d done to screw it up.
I didn’t deserve it, but my father had agreed to help fund me. Acting as guarantor for the business loan I’d applied for: Opulent Oak Construction. Not to mention, he’d been fundamental for me securing the work permit for entry into the USA. Without him...well, my second chance wouldn’t have mattered.
He’d given me my world back. He trusted I wouldn’t let him down.
I had no intention of doing that. Ever again.
He’d granted endless support and fatherly devotion, even after everything I’d done. However, he had a condition—completely adamant with no concessions.
So, I did the only thing I could.