CHAPTER EIGHT
“Trixie. It’s okay. I’m here,” Drew said, extending his hand.
She clutched it.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“How many times have you flown?”
“Two. Including this one,” she managed, going pale as the jet accelerated down the runway.
“Look at me. Trixie. Look at me,” Drew urged. “Focus on me.”
She slowly pivoted her head and locked eyes with him, and he could see terror building in hers that seemed to deepen their color from a chocolate brown to almost black when the plane’s wheels left the ground.
On instinct, he leaned toward her until their foreheads were touching, maintaining eye contact as he whispered, “Breathe, Trixie. Come on. Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You got this.”
She nodded against his forehead, then closed her eyes and focused o
