He reaches down and clicks the seatbelt into place. “And this is coming from the person who thought washing dirty money meant actually washing dollar bills with soap and water.”
“It’s a very misleading expression.”
“Just like the steak-fries,” he says with a snort of laughter.
I narrow my eyes and put my seatbelt back on. “It’s an honest mistake and one I really think you should let go.”
“No way. I’m forever going to be reminding you of the time you asked for ‘regular fries’ because you really didn’t want strips of steak along with your burger.”
“That’s a lot of meat!” I laugh. “And I thought you said you don’t fall asleep on planes.”
“I never have before. You bored me to sleep.”
“Jerk.”
The plane hits another patch of turbulence, startling me. I reach down for the armrest, forgetting we put it up. My hand comes down on Logan’s thigh, but I don’t take it off. The plane continues to bump along, and my mind flashes to seeing the oxygen masks coming down and everyone screaming as the plane plummets into the ocean.
“It’s okay.” Logan puts his hand on top of mine, and his touch is comforting. “Just a bit of turbulence.”
“A bit?” I press my hand against his thigh to keep me from flipping mine over and slipping my fingers through his. Though gripping his thigh isn’t much better. I let out a slow breath. “I’m not really a nervous flyer, but there’s something about being over the ocean that freaks me out.”
Logan looks out the window at the dark ocean. “I think we’d have a better chance of surviving a crash into water than on land.”
“Only to drown and get eaten by a megalodon.”
“Those aren’t real.”
“They might be. There’s so much stuff in the ocean we haven’t discovered yet.”
The plane bumps again, and I press my head against the headrest. Logan curls his fingers around my palm.
“Is this your first time visiting Hawaii?” the woman next to me asks.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “You?”
“Oh no, this is our fourth trip.” She motions to another woman who’s sitting a row ahead of us. “We just love it here.” Her eyes fall to Logan’s hand on mine. “There’s so much to do we come back every year to try and check another thing off our list.”
“I was really hoping to do the Road to Hana, but I don’t think we’ll have time before the wedding.”
A broad smile breaks out on the woman’s face. “You’re getting married?”
“My sister is.”
She looks at my left hand, eyeing the engagement ring. “You’ll be planning your wedding here next.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
She looks past me at Logan. “You’re a lucky man.”
Logan turns his head toward mine, smiling. We don’t even know this woman. It’s a good test on our plan to be fake-engaged.
“Yeah.” He squeezes my hand. “I am.”
“Have you started planning your wedding yet?”
“No, not yet,” he answers.
“Good,” the woman laughs. “Because seeing one Hawaiian wedding is enough to make you want to get married on the beach as well.”
“I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” Logan says. “But I think something a little more laid back is more our style, right babe?”
“Yeah. Something a little more country. I do like the idea of an outdoor ceremony, with the reception in a big, old barn.”
“Oh, those rustic weddings are trendy,” the woman says.
“We wouldn’t do it for the trend,” Logan tells her. “It just fits us.”
And now I know pretending to be a couple is wrong. But dammit, this type of wrong feels so fucking good.* * *
“Wow.” Everything is dark, but the view is still incredible. A slight breeze rustles my hair, and I grip the balcony railing, looking out at the beach and ocean. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is.” Logan steps next to me, resting his elbows on the railing as he looks out. “It’s quieter than I thought it would be.”
“It’s like two AM.”
“And seven AM for us. I think I’m at the point of being so tired I’m not tired anymore.”
“You napped on the plane.” I tip my head toward him, nudging him with my hip. It’s something I’ve done before, but for some reason, the contact feels too intimate. “I’m tired, but the thought of changing into my PJs, washing my face, and brushing my teeth seems too daunting. So I’m going to stand here being tired and not doing anything about it.”
“Smart, Danielle.”
“You don’t know the struggle of wanting to crash but having to take off makeup.”
“Can’t you just sleep in it for one night?”
“It’s bad for your skin, plus I’ll wake up with eyeliner and mascara smeared all over my face.”
Logan chuckles softly. “That would be a scary sight.”
“Terrifying. Just wait until you see me with bed head too.”
The muscles in Logan’s jaw tense and he pushes off the balcony, looking at me with what I can only describe as confusion on his face, as if he doesn’t know what to think or how to act right now.