Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(5)

She’d start her vacation after the doomed marriage of Corrie and . . . what was his name again? Brooks. His first name escaped her. Attending the festivities during the rehearsal was her way of learning the family dynamics and demands. Corrie could have an equally demanding grandmother that would attempt to boss Shannon around, or a drunken uncle that she’d need to rally the wedding planner to help with. Weddings took a village, and Shannon considered herself one of the town leaders. So when the flight attendant asked if she wanted more wine with the lunch provided, Shannon hesitated.

The rehearsal was eight hours away.

The book she packed for the vacation portion of her time in Mexico was packed in her checked bag.

Mr. Phone was sound asleep. No conversation there.

“Yes, that would be nice,” she told the attendant.

Before her meal arrived, Shannon took the opportunity to wiggle out of her seat without waking her neighbor to use the restroom. Somewhere in the five minutes she was up, Mr. Phone woke up long enough to lean his seat all the way back, legs stretched out, and once again was sound asleep.

Note to self: always take an aisle seat!

She cleared her throat.

He didn’t move.

Option one: wake him up.

Option two: climb over his stretched out legs. She was tall—she could do it.

The passengers around her were either deep in conversation or had on the headphones the airline provided and their eyes glued to the in-flight entertainment.

A second clearing of her throat.

Nothing.

Okay . . . did she climb over facing him, or away?

Away. That way she could hold on to the seats in front of them and keep her balance.

With her decision made, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted one leg over. Thank God she’d never carried too many extra pounds or touching the stranger would have been a given.

Halfway there . . .

She shifted her weight, lifted her remaining limb up . . .

The plane decided that was the perfect moment to hit a pocket of unstable air. Shannon tried to correct her weight, grabbed for the back of the seat in front of her. A second shift in the airplane and someone’s glass rolled on the floor. Shannon lost it.

“What the . . .”

Her ass landed in Mr. Phone’s lap.

His hands on her hips.

Humiliation boiled in her veins.



Victor was dreaming.

Or at least he was before his eyes popped open to the stunning woman next to him who now sat in his lap.

Or more to the point, was scrambling off his lap.

“What in the . . . ?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Victor reached for the button to lower his leg rest and somehow caught his seatmate a second time . . . or maybe the way the plane tilted had her losing her balance again.

He couldn’t stop his hands from moving to help her off of him any more than he could stop his pulse from jumping in his chest.

She grabbed ahold of the seats in front of her.

Someone close by started laughing.

The woman scrambled and fell into her seat. When she turned his way, the crimson color on her cheeks gave away her embarrassment.

“That was awkward,” he said, trying to make light of what happened.

She lifted her chin a little higher and tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear.

“You could have waited to stretch out until after I returned. It isn’t like I could have gone far.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t consider how I might get back into my seat.”

How rich was that? She fell in his lap and blamed him. Story of my life. “My apologies, Miss . . .”

“Annoyed.” She turned to look out the window.

Victor bit back a laugh. Chuckling at her might not be the best way to spend the duration of the flight. “I’m sorry, Miss Annoyed. I didn’t realize that you’d gotten up.”

She huffed out a breath and waved at the flight attendant. “I’ll have that glass of wine now, please.”

The attendant snickered. “I’ll keep your glass full.”

Victor glanced around at the other passengers, many of which were trying not to watch him and his annoyed companion.

He stopped the attendant from running off. “Excuse me.”

The attendant turned, her lips pinched.

Okay . . . apparently he was doing a good job of frustrating more than one female today. “Gin and tonic?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“Please,” Miss Annoyed said for him.

“Sorry. Please.”

The flight attendant flashed a smile. “Of course.”

He checked his watch. “I slept for an hour?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep on an airplane.

“Excuse me?” Miss Annoyed was still unhappy with him.

He pointed to his watch. “Did I really sleep for an hour?”

She turned to give him the full face of her disapproval. “You did.”

Miss Annoyed was model beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips . . . the depth of her eyes seemed to take everything in around her. She was what Victor would label conceited, privileged, and out of his league.

The flight attendant arrived with their drinks, and he took the opportunity to glance at her left hand.

No wedding ring.