Dates And Other Nuts Page 17

  She had known some who hadn’t survived.

  When Dave had summoned her to the cockpit, she’d thought he wanted coffee. She’d hardly been able to comprehend the conditions he’d outlined in a tense voice. The weather had changed so swiftly everyone had been caught by surprise. Any doubts she might have had about the seriousness of the situation had been erased by the sight of the tension in the pilot’s face.

  Temple opened the cockpit door. “Dave, we’re ready back here.”

  Dave nodded. “It’s going to get rough.”

  She nodded.

  Closing the door, she buckled herself into her seat, giving the passenger in 1-A a reassuring smile.

  I love you, Craig. I wish we’d had more time...

  Leaning forward, Temple put her head between her knees and linked her hands behind her head...and prayed.

  Her ears roared as they descended and she tried not to think of the ice on the plane, nor the condition of the runway.

  The plane hit the runway hard, bounced twice, the engine reversed and she heard the flaps shift. One more bounce and the plane skidded. They were going sideways down the runway; the plane turned and kept going with the brakes screaming. The skid seemed to go on forever. There was a bump, a lurch, another skid and then stillness.

  A deathly silence filled the small cabin. Temple’s head pounded as she clamped her eyes closed. She could hear her own heartbeat.

  She waited a count of five, then unbuckled her seat belt and jumped up.

  “Push those doors open!” she shouted to the men assigned to the exit doors. “Unbuckle, up-up-up!”

  Women with small children were first out the doors and sliding down the escape chutes. Icy rain was falling, coating everything it touched. The red and blue lights of emergency vehicles and airport personnel flashed across the tarmac and the crackle of radios in the background mingled with shouts of frenzied directions.

  As soon as passengers reached the end of the chute, someone pulled them to their feet and ushered them toward a warm airport van.

  The last passenger hit the chute. Temple pushed Sarah in front of her, then followed.

  Someone grabbed her arm as she hit the tarmac, and ushered her toward a waiting van. Pilot and copilot joined her and Sarah a moment later.

  Grasping Dave DeCosta’s hand, Temple whispered, “Thank you—every passenger aboard that plane owes you his life.”

  Dave squeezed her hand reassuringly, his face still showing the strain of the past twenty minutes.

  As the van drove toward the terminal, Temple turned to look back at the plane.

  The ATR was coated in ice. Instead of sitting on the landing wheels, it lay flat on the runway, skewed sideways and tilted like a broken toy.

  “That was too close for comfort,” Dave admitted, following her gaze.

  They were taken to a room inside the terminal where coffee, hot chocolate, tea and food were waiting. Phones were available so passengers could call family members while luggage was unloaded and the plane secured.

  Hours later, the crew finished being debriefed. Temple was called to the phone twice, first to assure Craig she was down safely, and second, to convince Craig she really was down safely.

  It was past midnight when an airport shuttle delivered Temple to a hotel. Too weary to shower, and with no clean clothes to change into anyway, she stripped off her uniform and crawled into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep. Only her wake-up call the next morning jarred her from slumber.

  “Good morning. Any aftereffects?” Dave asked when he called to check on her.

  “None, how about you?”

  “Fine shape. Our flight back to Dallas leaves in an hour.”

  They got on the plane as passengers this time. Temple sat looking out the window as this morning’s travelers boarded. The sun was shining, and while buildings were still iceencrusted, the melting was already under way. The runways were clear, with little spirals of steam rising upward as the sun reflected off the concrete. How strange it all seemed. Last night had been so frightening, proving how quickly everything could change.

  The storm—one that could not have been anticipated—had changed her life. At least she still had a life. This morning, Sparrow had announced all ATRs were grounded during inclement weather until further notice.

  Dave DeCosta was due a commendation for getting the plane down without injury. There had been some bumps and scrapes as passengers exited the chutes, but nothing serious.

  Temple’s stomach tied in a painful knot as the plane left the ground. The butterflies calmed down as the aircraft leveled out.

  In a short while, she would be back in Dallas. On one hand she could hardly wait to get there, on the other, there was Craig to face. And the tower personnel who’d listened to her blubbering over the speakerphone. Spilling every little secret, every titillating detail.

  What had she been thinking? How would she ever face Craig? She’d made such a fool of herself. Blurting out everything that had happened that night in Houston. Events she’d been trying to come to terms with for weeks. What was she going to do with them now that she’d told the world her innermost secrets.

  So, her personal life was in a shambles, the pieces of it laid out for everyone to see—friends, co-workers, Craig.

  Not only that, but her professional life was a shambles, too. She’d never been in a close call before. Her confidence was badly shaken. She’d known that accidents were always a possibility, but accidents happened to others, not to her. Was she capable of continuing her job?

  Troubled thoughts occupied her mind during the flight. She was aware of their descent into Dallas only when the flight attendant picked up the microphone—

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying Sparrow Airlines. Please replace your tables and return your seat backs to their full upright and least comfortable position —”

  Ten minutes. Ten minutes and you’ll walk into a terminal where everyone will know that you’re in love with Craig. No more pretending he’s just a friend. Just a friend. How phony that sounded. No wonder Ginny and Flo never believed you when you insisted that’s all there was. It was clear to them how you felt.

  She waited to be the last person off the plane, hoping to get into the terminal before anyone saw her. But it wasn’t to be.

  “Temple! Temple!” Ginny was jumping up and down, waving to her from the front of a crowd of airport personnel awaiting the arrival of the stressed crew.

  Hesitating, Temple wrestled with the idea of running, of taking off in the opposite direction as hard as she could walk.

  Instead, she calmly walked toward Ginny, smiling. When the usually caustic waitress grabbed her and hugged her around the neck tightly, she closed her eyes against tears and hugged her back.

  “We were so scared,” Ginny said.

  “Not half as scared as me,” Temple said, trying to laugh.

  Her gaze swept over the crowd. Craig was conspicuously absent. She’d spilled her guts, and clearly he hadn’t wanted to hear it.

  “We waited here last night until Chicago told us you were down and okay,” Ginny told her. “I was awake all night. I wanted to call, but I knew you’d be too busy to talk.”

  “I was. Now I’m drained. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

  Others reached out to touch her, squeeze her arm, take her hand, call out her name. She was surprised and gratified by their warm reception. These really were such great people.

  Her co-workers eventually dispersed, returning to their posts, and she continued through the terminal alone. Ginny waved to her again from behind the lunch counter and Flo gave her a high sign from the car rental booth. Her hand was on the handle of the glass doors leading to the parking lot before she saw him.

  Craig was leaning against his car, dressed in faded and worn jeans that fit him like a glove, and a pale blue shirt, Collar open, sleeves causally rolled up, he reminded Temple of a nineties cover model. She’d never seen him look so good.
>
  He waited, his gaze challenging her. Finally, she pushed through the doorway.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  She stood, bag in hand, wondering what to say. He had called twice to see how she was last night. Why hadn’t he called three times?

  “Yes.”

  She glanced up. “Yes?”

  “Yes, I feel the same way about you.”

  “Oh.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Craig... about last night—”

  “Get in,” he said, motioning to the passenger side of the Lincoln.

  “My truck-”

  “I said, get in.”

  She slid into the car and waited for him to walk around to the driver’s side, get in and pull out of the parking lot. Holding her breath, she was surprised when he didn’t say anything.

  Resting her head against the back of the seat, she looked out the window, watching passing street signs as he drove toward her apartment.

  “I had to bail out once,” he said, breaking the silence. “At the time, it was such a rush of adrenaline I couldn’t unwind for days. When I was back on the ground, I slept—for two days.”

  She smiled softly. Yeah, he’d know how she felt. But then, he always did.

  Temple couldn’t look at him. It was coming now. How foolish she’d been, how indiscreet.

  “You scared me, you know.”

  “I scared myself. I don’t know if—if I can go back, Craig.”

  His gaze remained on the highway, his hands moving easily on the steering wheel. “I’ve been offered a job down in the Keys flying private charters.”

  “Oh?” Her heart raced. Had she scared him off with her public admission? Fool! You knew better! Now look what you’ve done!

  She made her tone sound casual. “Thinking about taking it?”

  “It’s damn good money...yeah, I think I am considering it.”

  Mortified with herself, she felt tears spring to her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty about leaving. Why shouldn’t he take the job? More money, Florida. Sunshine, balmy breezes, beautiful women in string bikinis....

  She turned her face to the window, trying to stem the tide of tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks.

  Reaching over, he pulled her next to him, leaving his arm around her shoulders.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  She sighed, and rested her head against his shoulder, her hand lying on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. This felt so good, so natural. How would she live without him? Florida wasn’t the end of the earth, but they both had their jobs, responsibilities that would keep them apart.

  “Craig, I’m sorry about last night. I should have realized I was making a fool of myself, but I thought I was going to die without having ever told you—”

  His kiss interrupted her apology. The car swerved into the center lane, and he brought it quickly back into line. Thoughts of Susan haunted him.

  “Let’s discuss this when we get you home.”

  “I need to talk to Grams,” she managed to say, her head spinning.

  She spent the rest of the ride napping on Craig’s shoulder.

  Craig pulled the Lincoln into her parking space. As he got out, he waved to Roberta King, who was down on her knees, pruning rosebushes.

  Coming around to the passenger side of the car, he opened the door for Temple. “Come on, sleepyhead. You can make me breakfast.”

  Now it’s coming, she thought. He’ll wait until we’re in my apartment, and then he’ll let me have it. The kiss was just to keep her from making a bigger fool of herself. He’d insist they were right to remain friends. He’d go to the Keys, she’d stay in Dallas. She didn’t know if she could do that.

  Her apartment was the only thing that hadn’t changed in the last twenty-four hours. It felt good to be home.

  Dropping her flight bag on the floor, she kicked off her pumps. “I need a shower.”

  “Make it snappy. I’ll put on coffee, and scramble eggs. Got any bacon?”

  Temple disappeared into the bedroom, and Craig put bacon on to fry. Flipping on the television, he settled down to wait. The shower was still running when the bacon was done. He’d scrambled eggs and made toast, and located the strawberry jam when he heard the water finally stop.

  A few minutes later, she came out of the bedroom dressed in a white terry-cloth robe, her damp hair brushed back from her face.

  “Breakfast smells good.” She took blue crockery mugs out of the cabinet, wishing he’d get it over with—say something—anything!

  When Craig’s arms came around her from behind, she started, sending a mug clattering against the cabinet.

  “A little jumpy this morning, aren’t you, Burney?” His mouth brushed the nape of her neck as he loosened the sash on her robe. She forgot all about coffee.

  “All right, let me have it,” she whispered.

  He kissed lightly down her neck, lingering at her ear. His voice was soft against her lobe. “Oh, I plan to, just as soon as we talk.”

  So, she was right. He was angry at her for embarrassing him.

  “I’m mad as hell at you,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses against her nape.

  “I know—I shouldn’t have—I didn’t realize the whole tower was listening—” He’d never held her quite this way before. Close. Intimate. His hands spread across her midriff, molding her body into his. She could smell his cologne.

  “Will you let me finish?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Last night you hung up on me before I could answer you.”

  “Did I ask a question?” Parts of last night’s events were a blur.

  “No, but you were carrying on a conversation with me that I wasn’t participating in.”

  “Okay.” She bent her head, allowing him better access to her neck. “I’m listening. What do you want to say?”

  His right hand slipped beneath the robe and captured her breast. “That I love you, too.

  The near crash must have affected her hearing. “I—”

  “Love you—you and me.” Her heart jumped.

  He turned her around to face him. “You and me. Friends and lovers. Man and wife. Mom and Dad. Grandpa and Grandma.”

  “Craig, I—”

  He kissed her thoroughly this time, his mouth insistent, demanding on hers. As their lips parted, he whispered against them, “Nuts to this dating stuff. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t have to think about the answer. She’d thought of nothing else lately.

  Their mouths merged hungrily. “No arguments about being ‘just friends’?”

  “None,” she whispered as his hands grew more aggressive.

  “No? Nothing wrong with marrying your best friend?” he murmured. “Even if he is a pilot?”

  She shook her head, speechless for once in her life. She couldn’t think of anything nicer.

  “No more looking for Mr. Right. No more dates from hell.”

  “Most definitely not.”

  “It’s about time,” he breathed.

  Long minutes passed before their lips parted again.

  “Burney,” he chided, his fingers gently slipping off the robe and letting it drop to the floor. He stepped back to look at her.

  “Not fair,” she said softly.

  “What’s not fair?”

  “You’re still dressed.”

  He grinned, and she smiled back at him, loving that dimple that winked in his cheek. He began to unbutton his shirt.

  “So, you put me through that night in Houston to tease me.”

  “I didn’t tease you.” Her eyes reminded him of that night.

  “No.” His eyes traveled over her leisurely. “I came away satisfied.”

  She smiled. “Want to hear something worse?”

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t all that cold, either.”

  “Want to hear something worse than that?”

  She frowned, made suspicious by the look in his eyes. “Wh
at?”

  “I turned off the thermostat before I got into bed.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did.”

  The eggs and bacon were long forgotten now.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really,” she whispered, drawing him to her now. They kissed again, his hands shockingly bold now.

  “You don’t happen to be into whips and chains, do you?”

  She laughed. “What?”

  “Foot fetishes?”

  Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her toward the bedroom.

  Whips and chains? Foot what? What was he talking about? On the other hand, what did she care?

  She didn’t, she decided, as his mouth hungrily sought hers.

  Not in the least.

  Epilogue

  Dear Grams,

  Set two extra plates at the table this weekend. We’re flying to Dallas Saturday morning. We’ll come directly from the airport to your house.

  Can’t wait to see you, Grams! Craig and I have a surprise we think you’ll like.

  Love,

  Tootie

  “Temple?”

  “In the den, darling.” Temple sealed the envelope, patted her tummy and sighed contentedly. “I’m writing Grams.”

  “Damn grubworms are taking over the lawn.” Craig came into the room, leaning down to kiss his wife. He patted her stomach. “Want to head out for ice cream? Double double chocolate cherry blitz?”

  “With whip cream and butterfinger shavings?”

  “Sure, why not?” Pulling her to her feet, Craig kissed his wife, lingering momentarily. His hand caressed her stomach again, giving his child a gentle squeeze. “How’s Junior this morning?” he whispered.

  “Junior’s doing very well, thank you.” Junior was little more than a speck on the ultrasound screen, but the doctor assured her he’d grow.

  They stood for a moment, rocking with each other, kissing, loving each other.

  “Junior could be a girl, you know,” Temple said.

  “I know, and if she is, I hope she’s as pretty as her mother.”