Page 10 of Miss Understanding

I pulled it back. “No. I insist. They’re my files, and I may need them during the flight.”

“Fine.” Her smile was tight, but she let me take the suitcase, hurrying by to get to her seat, which appeared to be all the way in the back of the large plane.

Great. Even while trying to be a gentleman in putting the heavy suitcase above in my carry-on bin, I’d managed to be a dick.

* * *

Once we reached cruising altitude and the fasten seatbelt sign went off, I used the lavatory and then came back to my seat. Time to get some work done. Opening up the overhead bin, I took out her small pink suitcase.

My window seat companion couldn’t help commenting. “Nice color,” the older man said with a comical smirk.

I didn’t bother with a reply, not needing to give him an explanation. I simply unzipped the hard case and flipped open the lid. What greeted me had me completely freeze.

A low whistle came from the same man beside me. “Damn.”

Damn, indeed. In the case were two thongs. One lacy bloodred. The other lacy black. Along with a black demi cup bra. There was also a small bag of toiletries in clear plastic and slacks and a blouse. An extra change of clothes. Made sense. However, they were on top of the folders I needed. And I was at a loss as to how to move my assistant’s unmentionables without touching them.

“Now that’s something I don’t see much of at my age,” the nosey old man offered up.

I could feel my face heating as I touched the fabric and tried in vain not to think about how it would look against Kendall’s skin. I prayed I didn’t do something worse like hold them up and sniff them. Jesus. How old was I? I’d seen women’s underwear before. Plenty of it. But none tied to someone I didn’t want to associate with sex. I moved the lingerie to the side and took out the labeled folder I needed.

After zipping up the offensive suitcase and putting it back up where it belonged, I took my seat again and tried to concentrate on work. But I couldn’t. I was distracted. By lacy thongs and a sexy bra.

My irritation grew at the fact she’d put these items in here with my folders. I shifted in my seat, thinking about her conservative, yet designer, attire in the office—and what I now knew she wore beneath it.

Something told me it would be a long trip.

Chapter Seven

Kendall

Great. I’d just handed my boss all the personal stuff in my carry-on. I’d been tempted to tug it back, but I knew the action would not only hold up the rest of the line, but it also would’ve made me look like a six-year-old. Here was hoping he didn’t open it during the flight. Wasn’t my fault I’d been obliged to stow his confidential files along with my extra change of clothes.

I still couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to be annoyed about me bringing all the paperwork with me. What the hell was I supposed to do with it if he wouldn’t allow shipping? And he hadn’t told me which files he’d need. Ugh. Infuriating man.

“You okay?” the guy next to me asked.

I imagined cursing under my breath was getting me some funny looks. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s my first time flying.”

My mind had been so wrapped up with my asshole boss, I’d forgotten this was my first time up—until those words came out of my mouth. But now I was focusing on the issue and starting to get anxious at the sound of the engines firing up. I was in the aisle seat, and the stranger talking to me was seated in the middle. The girl in the window seat was already asleep. I wished I could be as relaxed.

He was cute with an easy smile. A bit unkempt with his fuzzy beard and longer, curly hair, but probably in his early twenties like me.

“Don’t worry. I fly a lot. And nothing has ever happened. Flying in a plane is safer than riding in cars on the highway.”

“So I’ve heard,” I murmured, changing my curses to a small prayer when the plane started moving.

“Except of course when a plane does crash, it’s normally during takeoff or landing.”

I side-eyed him for that bit of information, taking a deep breath when the pilot told the flight attendants to take their seats.

“Your final destination Chicago?”

“No. A layover on my way to Roanoke, Virginia.”

“Good thing. I heard the windchill is minus twenty in the windy city.”

“Degrees?” It was a stupid question, but when you lived your entire life in Southern California, the idea of negative numbers didn’t compute.