CLAUS AND EFFECT

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

TRE

“Man, she’s a b***h,” the woman next to me says once the whole scene is over.

I don’t enjoy being a part of a spectacle, especially when I’m in uniform. People won’t hesitate to pull out their phones and videotape or snap a damn picture these days. “Traveling is stressful. Holidays are stressful.”

My phone dings in my hand and I click on the family group message, happy to have an excuse to stop talking to this woman, though not so happy about the messages. My family is treating my coming home as if I was injured or a POW.

Mom: Can’t wait to have you home. We’ll be at baggage claim.

Lil’Bro: If anyone questioned whether you’re Mom’s favorite, it’s been confirmed. Wait until you see the spread.

Lil’Sis: There’s a reason he’s her favorite. He’s not a douchebag who can’t put the toilet seat down.

Me: s**t, did you fall in?

Dad: The scream in the middle of the night confirms it.

Lil’Sis: So great sharing a bathroom with him.

Mom: Tre doesn’t need to hear us gripe. He’s been through enough.

I shake my head because she has no idea how much I miss the banter of my family. I’m thankful to get to experience it.

Lil’Bro: Get home so I can school you in rummy. I’m the leader right now.

Lil’Sis: Because you cheat.

Lil’Bro: I do not cheat.

Lil’Sis: Really? Say it with a straight face.

Dad: We miss you, Tre, tell the pilot to fly faster.

Me: They’re not really big on cockpit visits these days. We’re pulling back from the gate. See you in five hours.

Mom: ☺

Lil’Bro: Prepare yourself. There will be tears.

Me: I’ll text you when I land.

I really hope there aren’t poster boards in my family members’ hands when I meet them in arrivals. I’m not sure why my anxiety is at an all-time high with the thought of seeing them. They’re my family. The ones who have missed me most. Maybe it’s returning home, to my friends and the memories of before I left.

“I just don’t get people like her. I mean, as if she should get the seat over you?” The woman next to me starts up again now that I’ve put my phone on Airplane Mode and pocketed it.

“She’s probably having a bad day.”

I feel like a total ass for treating her as if she was out of line. The seat was hers. She paid the money. When the attendant at check-in offered me a first-class seat as a thank you for my service, I assumed they had an open seat, not that I was taking someone else’s. But her writing her phone number on the back of my boarding pass should’ve been my sign.

The more attitude the brunette gave me, the more I gave it right back because that’s what I’m used to. I’ve spent years with soldiers who razz each other endlessly. If you don’t hand it right back, you’re considered weak. Things just escalated from there. I shouldn’t have fed into it.

I lean my head back and close my eyes as the flight attendant goes over the safety procedures in the middle of the aisle. Rather than drifting off to sleep, all I can picture is that woman’s dark hair thrown in that messy ponytail, her bright blue eyes showing how she was moments from tears. I know the flight attendant said her name, but I didn’t catch it, and I wish I did, though I don’t know why.

I’d tracked her back at security. As I was pushed to the side and checked with someone looking through my things and patting me down, she was the entertainment for the area. At first she forgot to take her sweater off, so she rushed back, apologizing to everyone she was inconveniencing. Then her Apple Watch was still on her wrist. The security guy had to tell her to take it off and put it in the tray.

Exasperated as she was, she did that move women sometimes do when they blow the hair that’s hanging in their eye away to see better. I’m not sure what it is with that move, but it always turns me on. Once she was through security, her arms were full of all her things and she went to a bench and tossed it all in her bag, then slipped her feet back into her shoes. At least she didn’t put her shoes at the end of the line, holding everyone up like some people do.

Her phone rang a minute later, and she disappeared from sight. A woman like her, it was probably her boyfriend. Likely whoever will be meeting her in Portland. No chance a woman like her isn’t single.

Eventually I drift off. I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but when I wake, we’ve taken off and it’s still dark within the cabin. A few people have their lights on above their seats and are reading or working on their laptops. I stretch, pulling back my shoulders and glancing at the woman next to me. She gives me a welcoming smile as if she’s been either watching me sleep or waiting for me to wake up.

“Good morning,” she says, wiping some pretend drool from my face with her thumb.

What the f**k?

I must give her a confused look because she laughs, apparently getting the whole wrong impression. “Just kidding, it’s still nighttime.”

I rub my eyes, still getting used to having a good sleep.

“So, tell me about yourself,” she says. “Do you just not wear a ring or are you not married?”

The woman is attractive, a few years older than me from what I can judge. She’s nice enough I suppose, but I don’t want to discuss my personal life with some stranger.

“Not married,” I say in a gruff voice.

“Oh, Carly owes me a drink.” She wiggles in her seat in celebration.

My forehead creases. “Carly?”

“The flight attendant.” She points at the short-haired brunette who was rude to the woman who was supposed to be in my seat. “You were sleeping, and we got to chatting.”

“Oh.” I think I’d rather be back in coach right now. “I have to use the bathroom.” I unbuckle myself and slide out of my seat.

“You’ll have to go in the back. The bald guy from the first row has been in there for twenty minutes already.”

“Great,” I say and sneak past the curtain that separates the first class from economy. I take a moment for a deep breath, gaining the distance I need from my seatmate.

I can kind of see why the woman was so upset to be moved back here. There are kids whining, people talking. Overall, it’s much more social back here.

My eyes scan over the seats as I make my way to the back, but I can’t find the brunette from earlier. She’s probably sleeping, and she hates me anyway. I’m halfway down the aisle when the brunette from earlier gets up from her seat near the back. I bite my lip so I don’t smile when our eyes meet.

Maybe she’s going to apologize. I should definitely apologize. My mouth opens as she slides out of her row and steps in front of me. She quickly turns her back to stand in line for the bathroom in front of me.

“Excuse me,” I say.

She glances over her shoulder then turns around. “Oh, did you want to use our bathroom?”

I look up to see both of the bathrooms are occupied right now. “First class is taken so…”

“So, you’re okay using the bathroom but not sitting with us common folk?”

So much for apologizing. This woman is infuriating. “It wasn’t my fault the tickets got messed up. I’m not sure why I’m getting your wrath?”

“He’s a hottie,” a senior woman says from the row the brunette came from. “Want a cookie?”

A tin hits my stomach, and I look down at a pregnant woman in the aisle seat who’s holding the tin containing a crap-ton of decorated cookies. “They’re so good. I’ve had five already,” the pregnant woman mumbles, and I watch crumbs fall to her chest.

I hold up my hand. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs and gives the tin back to the grandma who has her silver hair pulled back in a clip.

“They’re for my grandkids. My son moved them across the country from me and this was the first Christmas I had to make and decorate them all by myself.”

“I’m really sorry. It’s hard being away from your family during the holidays,” I say. I know how much it sucks not to be with your loved ones this time of year.

The brunette in front of me huffs, drawing my attention back to her.

“What?” I arch an eyebrow.

She shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just that you’d think if you were really military, you’d miss a home-baked sugar cookie.”

“You think I’m not a real soldier?” I chuckle.

“I’m just saying it’s weird.”

“Maybe I’m diabetic.” I raise my eyebrows.

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Well then.” She eyes the tin then me again. She’s hot, but I’m starting to think she might also be a tad unhinged.

“So what? Because I don’t want a cookie, I’m not a soldier returning home for Christmas?”

“It’s like a movie. You return home and, on the flight, run into a snarky brunette you secretly want.”

I look down at the voice and the pregnant woman smiles brightly as if she thinks the brunette and I are going to walk out of the Portland Airport hand in hand singing Christmas carols. Not a f*****g chance.

“Polly, I already told you, there’s nothing remotely romantic between us,” the brunette says.

“Because she’s going to Portland for the other guy,” the grandma adds.

My muscles tense. Other guy? Jealousy should be the last emotion overtaking me, but… what’s with this other guy?

She looks at me, and for a moment, the chip on her shoulder is gone. There’s a vulnerability shining inside her. She did not want me to know about this. “It’s just… I mean…”

I raise my hand. “It’s none of my business.”

“A psychic told her she was going to die alone if she didn’t,” the grandma continues, and the brunette sighs.

“Psychic, huh?” I have no idea what to think of that.

She knocks on both bathroom doors. “Can you please hurry?” She turns back to me and crosses her arms.

My eyes dip to her breasts for a second but meet her eyes again before she gives me a black eye. Rightly so.

“You don’t seem the type,” I say.

Her fiery eyes land back on me. “Pathetic, you mean?”

“I just meant the type to follow a guy.”

“So then really pathetic?”

“Jesus, I can’t say anything right according to you.” I shove my hands in my pockets. When will these people get out of the bathroom? I just need to go to the bathroom and sit down in my seat for the remainder of my flight and nod off. Once I land, I’ll never see this woman again.

“Well, that’s probably because your mouth is moving and you’re speaking.” She gives me a saccharine smile, then turns her back to me and shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“So, where are you back from?” the pregnant lady asks.

“Sorry, it’s classified.”

“Of course it is,” the brunette says. I can practically feel her rolling her eyes in front of me.

I lean forward and lower my voice. “I’m an Army Ranger, so most of my missions are classified,” I whisper in her ear, and I swear goose bumps trail down her neck.

She guffaws. “Might as well have said you were a Navy SEAL.”

“Since I’m wearing my ‘fake’ army fatigues, I felt as if Ranger was the better option. This trip at least.”

She turns to look at me over her shoulder, and I wink at her. Her nostrils flare and she gives me a look as though she wishes she could kick my ass, but we both know she’d lose.

“Hard work.” The pregnant woman reaches for my arm. “Thank you for your service.” Then her hands rub her belly. “We both thank you.”

I nod and mouth, thank you. I hate scenes like this, while this woman obviously loves them.

Finally, the bathroom door opens, and the man who comes out is pasty with a tinge of green to his skin. A rancid smell follows him out, and everyone around us chokes.

“Oh my god, I can’t.” Polly, the pregnant woman, stands and squeezes past us, rushing into the bathroom. A second later, we hear her puking.

The other bathroom door opens up, and again, the woman coming out is pasty white and sweating.

“Honey, I think the fish was bad,” the man says.

She holds her stomach. “I agree.”

The flight attendant escorts them over to the staff area, offering tea and throw up bags.

“By all means, ladies first?” I say to the brunette.

“Oh, now it’s ladies first.” Her hands land on her hips. “Please, I insist. After all, your service keeps me safe. Think of it as me repaying you.”

“So generous. I didn’t get your name.”

“No need to exchange names. This should be the last time I’ll have to interact with you.”

She slides by me, and I purposely make it difficult for her, causing her t**s to press against my chest. I tell my d**k to simmer down, that he’s only reacting because it’s been too f*****g long. She sits down in the middle seat, and I wait a moment before holding my breath and walking into the bathroom.

After I’ve gone and washed my hands and am walking back to my seat, I stop at the end of her row, leaning in to avoid waking anyone. “It’s all yours, princess. Sorry about the pee on the seat. Turbulence.” I straighten and head back to my seat.

“Now calm down, Tessa, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” the grandma says as I walk away.

Tessa.

I smile to myself.