Page List


Font:  


She moved beside him down the steps and into the Manhattan subway. On the platform, people stood behind the line, waiting for the train to arrive. Street performers played by the walls, making the already loud space deafening.

Unlike the ride in, Rachel pushed into the car when it arrived and found a pole to hold on to while the train moved. Jason had no choice but to push in close, not that he minded. Rachel smiled when he slid up next to her.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked, not sure how the small talk was going to work out.

“I did. You?”

“The snow slowed things down in the office.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It made for some trouble with flights, but it all worked out. Safety first and all that.”

She shook her head. “Sometimes I forget that there are actual Fairchild planes out there, flying every day and night.”

“That’s the goal.”

The train stopped, people shoved in . . . Jason moved closer.

“Do you like flying?” she asked.

“Love it.”

“Do you get up there often?”

He shook his head yes, then no. “No. Glen, Trent, and I force each other to fly with each other at least once a year. I fly more, but it’s the transatlantic flight that reminds me why I love it so much.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, something about taking the controls and leaving one country and landing in another.”

“Why don’t you do it more?”

“Work, obligations. There is always so much to do here.”

“But you’re the boss.”

“Which means I’m responsible.”

Rachel shook her head.

“For everyone.” That felt strange to say aloud. “I’m not even sure how many employees we have right now. Pilots and mechanics all over the world, everyone in this office, the one in London. A lot of households depend on what we do to put food on the table. My father never lost sight of that.”

“And you took over for your father when he died.”

She was staring at him, a softness in her eyes.

“Firstborn. It was implied.”

“It wasn’t in writing?”

“My parents left it up to us. Glen, Trent, and I got pissing drunk after their death and decided what was best.”

Jason noted the station they were at; they had one more stop before they had to switch trains.

“Did you really want to take over all of it?”

He looked directly into her eyes. “Did you really want to become a mother to a teenager?”

Instead of answering, she slowly smiled with a nod. “Still glad I did.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Jason was fairly certain that was the first time he’d ever confessed his feelings about taking over for his father.

They switched trains and found a place to sit for the remainder of their commute.

“How is it Owen is so well-adjusted?” he asked.

“Emily.” The name apparently answered the question for her. “She was fire and light. There wasn’t a thing in this world she was afraid of trying to conquer. I didn’t know her when she had Owen, but she replayed enough of that part of her life with me, it felt as if I was there.”

“How did you meet?”

“I hadn’t left college. I was doing an internship for a high fashion clothing line. Em worked in sales. We hit it off. I think I was one of her only friends who didn’t mind doing stuff with Owen. She was older, full of knowledge and spunk. I was just starting out and inspired by her energy.”

“And she infused all of that into Owen?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. He oozed confidence early on. She set rules, told him the consequences, and always followed through. I remember a trip we took to Disneyland. We weren’t an hour in and Owen started whining about something. She gave him one warning, told him if he didn’t stop, we were leaving. Owen tested her and we left.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And tickets to Disneyland aren’t cheap. Owen tested her after that, but she only had to tell him once that they were leaving, the toy would be thrown away . . . whatever, and he snapped out of his fit. Of course, that wasn’t quite the way things worked out when he got older. He became quite the negotiator. Emily gave him say in many of her decisions, which is where his confidence comes from. He doesn’t take crap from anyone but knows when he needs to keep his trap shut.” Rachel sounded like the proud parent herself.

“Does he take authority from you?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t really had to come down on him about anything. He does better than okay in school. The kids he hangs out with are respectful and don’t seem to be in the wrong crowd. Because I’m not his mother, we get to have a friendship. Losing a parent changes you.” She looked up and met Jason’s gaze. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

“I was older.”

“Still.”

He was drowning in her smile. If he didn’t continue the conversation, he was at serious risk of reaching out to remove fake lint from her hair, or brush his fingers against hers . . . anything to touch her and ignite the flame that burned low in his gut, which he wanted to grow. “Are your parents still around?”

“Yeah. My parents are typical Southern Californians. Love the sun and hate the snow. Which is why they aren’t coming around this Christmas. They want to visit in the spring.”

“It’s nice that time of year.”

“Dad still works, so it isn’t like he can visit all the time. They’re very fiscally responsible.”

For the remainder of the ride home, Rachel spoke of her parents and brother. It was obvious that she missed them but wasn’t lost without them by her side. Her independence was just one of the things Jason was beginning to admire about her.

Back in the parking lot of the local station, the snow was piled everywhere. The cars that hadn’t moved all day held several inches. The slope of the Jeep’s windshield made quick work of snow removal, and they were on the road and headed back to Rachel’s within a few minutes.

“Wow, the snow seems thicker here.”

“It will stick around for a few days. Once it starts to melt and freeze over at night, driving becomes even more difficult.”

“Great.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Is that your way of saying I should take the train again tomorrow?”

He drove past the hill that ditched his Audi and made the turn toward her home. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”

Jason caught her grin and noted a lack of denial.

The lights of his Jeep caught the snowman greeting them from Rachel’s front yard. The colorful lights glistened on the roof, and the tree inside her house welcomed them.

“Looks like Owen has been busy,” she said.

“I used to love snow days.”

He pulled into her driveway, left the engine running.

“Thank you, Jason.”

“You’re welcome.”

She jumped down from the Jeep, grabbed her purse. “See you in the morning.”

“All right.”

He watched her walk to the front door and waited until she turned and waved at him before he pulled away. And he prayed it would snow again before the end of the week.

By Friday the snow had melted to a few inches, and taking the train was no longer a requirement to make it into work on time. And since Rachel had promised Julie she would join her for a girls’ night out after work, there wasn’t a choice about driving into the city.


Tags: Catherine Bybee Not Quite Romance