His cowboy hat was impossible to miss—wide brim, tilted just enough to shadow his rugged, sharp face. And then there was his physique—lean, broad shoulders, chest stretching his tight T-shirt. You rarely see guys like that in economy class.
I tried to avoid looking, but whenever I glanced at him, he was already watching me. Not in a creepy way, more like he was studying me, as if he knew something I didn’t.
Once the plane leveled off, I opened my book to calm down, but my heart was racing for reasons I couldn’t explain.
That’s when a flight attendant stopped by and asked, “Another bourbon, Mr. Maddox?”
