Page 110 of Mistletoe and Mayday
My eyes widen as I catch his meaning. “Is that right, Mr. Lockhart?”
“That’s right, Captain Monroe.” His smile turns wicked. “I think we should properly christen our cabin, don’t you?”
Before I can plan a suggestive response, he sweeps me into his arms, making me yelp in surprise before dissolving into laughter as he carries me toward the bedroom. I cling to his shoulders, somehow still maintaining my grip on the precious snow globe.
The bedroom door yields to Sebastian’s gentle kick, revealing a beautiful rustic sanctuary centered around a proper bed—nothing like the rickety cot we once huddled on for survival. A handmade quilt of deep blues and greens covers it,piled with soft pillows that bear no resemblance to the lumpy disaster we’d endured.
“Slightly better than our first stay,” I whisper as he places me on the bed.
Two days later, we walk hand-in-hand back toward the plane, my new ring catching the winter sunlight, sending diamond reflections dancing across the pristine snow. The cabin looks smaller from this distance, but no less magical—our perfect little corner of wilderness standing testament to how far we’ve come.
I halt, my pilot brain catching up with the logistics of our situation. “Wait! There isn’t actually a business meeting, is there? Because I filed a flight plan and everything.”
“Only you would worry about flight regulations in the middle of your own engagement weekend,” he says, drawing me against him.
I look up into those blue eyes, attempting to scowl but failing miserably. “Flight plans are serious business, Sebastian. The FAA doesn’t accept ‘surprise proposal’ as a valid reason for deviation from filed flight paths.”
He kisses my forehead, still chuckling. “I had James file an amended plan. We’re covered.”
“Of course you did,” I sigh, leaning into him.
His arms tighten around me as we gaze back at our cabin—the place where we began, and where we’ve now promised a future together. The sun catches on my ring, sending fragments of light dancing across the snow like tiny falling stars.
“Ready to fly home, Captain Monroe?” Sebastian whispers against my hair.
“Born ready.”
