Beautiful Broken Promises(67)
About halfway through our flight, Lane dozed off with his head thrown back against the chair and his mouth gaped open. It wasn’t often that he looked vulnerable, and I enjoyed the rare moments that I could see him like this.
His strong jaw flexed gently with each breath in and out. His sandy blond hair had grown a little bit longer these past few weeks. His legs were parted and one was stretched out in front of me. While we had extra room in first class, it still wasn’t a good fit for someone his size. His arm was extended over the console, gripping my thigh with his large hand. I had tried to move it at one point, but he’d held on tightly, not willing to let me go, even in sleep.
The flight attendant started making another trip down our aisle with her beverage cart. When she stomped on the brake pedal to keep it from rolling away from her, the noise shook Lane awake. I cringed as he startled. I tried to rub his arm soothingly, hoping he could fall back asleep.
The flight attendant began asking Kate and Braden what they would like, and they each politely responded that they’d like some water. She told them how well-behaved they were, and she appeared to be genuinely impressed with their manners. I watched as she poured their waters and began putting together their lunches.
Lane’s face began to nuzzle into the side of my neck and every part of me lit up at the low hum he produced with the movement.
“You did that,” he whispered into my ear. I didn’t process his words right away, because I was too busy trying to tamper down my heightened sex drive that he seemed to be igniting so much lately. I closed my eyes and enjoyed feeling the scruff from his face rub gently across my skin. “Thankful for you, babe…” His voice faded into my muddled brain.
“Huh?” I asked stupidly.
“You. You’re amazing. Look how good they are.” His head nodded to the two seats in front of us. I could see the flight attendant smiling down at Kate and Braden as she handed them the on-board first-class meal, which was stuffed pasta with roasted sundried tomatoes. Seemed kind of silly for two four-year-olds. “You did that, Rae. You raised them into two of the most perfect children.” He kissed my temple, right over my scar, and sat up straight to speak with the approaching flight attendant.
I watched the kids through the seats as they quietly spoke to one another. When Braden needed a napkin, Kate unfolded one for him. When she almost spilled her water, Braden caught it and she thanked him kindly.
I absently noticed that my own food and drink had been placed in front of me. Lane had ordered a cranberry juice for me, which happened to be my favorite beverage at the moment. I watched his arm cross over in front of me as he reached for our silverware and napkins. My thoughts were in the row in front of us as Lane kissed my temple again and thanked the flight attendant.
“You guys are just the sweetest family,” she told us. Then she popped the brake and moved back to the front of the airplane. I wanted to respond before she left, but I was still looking at the two ‘most perfect children.’
“What’s going on in there, babe?” Lane whispered.
“In where?”
“In that head of yours. I can see the wheels spinning.”
“I worry about them,” I whispered, so quietly I wondered if he would even be able to hear me over the hum of the plane’s engines.
“I just told you that they were perfect and that made you worry?” he asked, completely puzzled.
“They’re too good, Lane. They never misbehave. They never act like normal children. Normal children disobey at least occasionally, they throw fits to show what they feel, they act out and they scream. I worry that they were too sheltered in that room for so long, kept away from other people.”
“Okay…” He paused, obviously unsure how to respond.
“You think I’m crazy?”
He quirked his lip and I shoved at his shoulder playfully. “I’m just saying, you’re upset that they are too good. It’s a little… crazy,” he laughed. “And they do show their feelings. Kate shouts them to the rooftops. I don’t think there is any problem there.” He smiled fondly. “And Braden always tells me when he likes something.”
“What do you mean? I’ve never heard him say anything like that. He’s so quiet.”
“That’s just it. He doesn’t need to say it. He bumps my fist.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“We fist bump, babe.” When I continued to look at him, he said, “It’s a guy thing. Watch.” He moved forward and said, “Hey Braden, this pasta rocks, yeah?”