Page 136 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

I was past protesting. I’d tried to fight the airport and lost. Miserably.

“S’not bleeding,” my mountain man seatmate told me as he plopped back down. My seatbelt got lost somewhere underneath him and I whimpered quietly.

“Ma’am.” A flight attendant stood over us with a little plastic bag full of ice. “For your head.”

I noticed then that every single pair of eyes on the flight was turned in my direction and my skin flushed with heat.

“I won’t cause any more trouble,” I joked as I took the ice and squashed it to my wound. I actually didn’t feel a thing; the benefits of alcohol always outweigh the detriments.

“Let us know if you’re feeling dizzy, any nausea, double vision, ringing in your ears,” she requested. “Seeing things.”

“Got it.” I nodded.

“Taking off in just a few minutes,” she replied kindly.

My eyes fluttered closed as she disappeared and the attention on me subsided. Which only reminded me how wickedly tipsy I was when my entire equilibrium shifted and the shuttle started spinning. God damn Natalia for being right, and fuck me for thinking I could house a couple hours’ worth of drinks in a couple minutes on an empty stomach. That airplane paper bag was whispering to me.

I slid the ice down my face to rest on my neck and keep from overheating and through half-lidded eyes a familiar mop of brown hair and a faded black hat waved into focus down the aisle.

I sat up, too fast. “Frankie?”

Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.

“No, my name's Karl,” the man sitting beside me said. “You sure you’re okay?”

I blinked hard, sobering miraculously fast, the pulse in my neck picking up in my ears.

“I’m fucking seeing things, Karl.” My fingers clamped around the metal armrests and my gut twisted the closer he came. Until it was undeniable that Frankie was stalking toward us, head shifting side to side scanning the already filled seats. “Frankie!” I shouted louder.

He looked up, nostrils flaring and gaze hooking onto mine. I could tell he was out of breath from running. He lifted his hat, passing a shaky hand through his hair and replacing it with renewed determination.

“What are you doing here?” My mind raced. “Why are you—”

“I don’t want to wait until the end of the month to see you.”

Every single humming conversation came to a deafening halt around us.

My lips parted, astonished. “What?”

“He said he doesn’t want to wait until the end of the month to see you,” Karl reiterated from between us.

“I—thank you, Karl. I think I got this.” I actually couldn’t believe what I was seeing, that he was standing in front of me. The plane was about to take off to Colorado, which meant…

Hecame for me.

“I don’t understand,” I told him. “I thought…”

“It’s simple,” he started, fingers fidgeting at his sides. He took a deep, centering breath. “I don’t want to be away from you. I don’t want towaitto have you again. I don’t want to waste another day of this weird, insane, intense fucking thing that we’ve made together.”

Karl nodded intently, nudging me with an elbow.

“I don’t want you to go back to Colorado and eventually date other men, because I don’t want to stay in Coconut Creek and date other women. Okay? I—” His brow deepened and he took a step closer. “What the fuck happened to your head?”

“Oh.” My hand instinctively shot to the blossoming bruise on my forehead, shielding it from scrutiny. “Is it bad?”

“Got her good with my boot,” Karl informed him.

Frankie massaged the bridge of his nose with one hand as he dug into his pocket with the other, pulling a crumpled airline ticket from his pants and handing it to the man beside me. “Can we do a trade? I have agreatseat a few rows back.”

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