Grounded for Christmas

by Savannah J. Frierson

  Grounded for Christmas

  A Holiday Novelette

  Savannah J. Frierson

  Grounded for Christmas

  The weather outside may be frightful, but Mary and Joseph waiting out the storm together in a private lakeside cabin may be much more delightful.

  Joseph Douglas isn’t just any pilot—he’s #PilotBae, complete with dark hair, blue eyes, and a jaw cut so sharp it would make a diamond jealous. He’s also Mary Jefferson’s little brother’s best friend. But after soaring high with him for one night a few years back, his careless words had her crashing to earth, shattering her heart. But that doesn’t stop the shards of it from beating for him still.

  Unbeknownst to Mary, Joseph is determined to put those shards back together. The skies feel different without Mary’s sparkling brown eyes, sweet smile, and decadent curves in his life; so when a snowstorm strands them during their holiday travels, he takes the chance to man up and make things right.

  They only have a few grounded nights together. How will romance between them take off a second time toward happily ever after?

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I want to thank my readers for all of your support! I most certainly couldn’t do this without you. Thank you to my Patreon subscribers who insisted I share a draft of this story well after last Christmas had come and gone and encouraging me to finish. Thank you to my editor Katherine Jones for being so eagle-eyed and detailed, and thank you to my beta reader Angela Mizell Lawson. Your comments gave me all the confidence in the world with this story and it’s all the better for them and you. Finally, thank you to my family for your encouragement. You always keep me grounded in love.

  For being someone’s sky.

  Chapter 1

  Flying was not among Mary Jefferson’s favorite activities. Flying during the holiday season? Absolute torture. Yet she sat in the right window seat of the plane’s emergency exit row anyway, her eyes closed with her noise-canceling headphones piping in a playlist as she waited for the flight to finish boarding. She braced herself for her row neighbors, hoping they weren’t chatty, sick, or jerks. She at least knew they wouldn’t be children; the emergency exit row was the only childfree zone in the passengers’ section.

  Speaking of children, her headphones weren’t powerful enough to cancel out a toddler’s piercing wails. She frowned but didn’t open her eyes, not needing to see an exasperated parent ushering the distressed child along the narrow aisle toward their seats. She tensed as the cries became louder. The seat next to her was still open; and while the child couldn’t sit next to her, that didn’t mean people couldn’t occupy multiple rows to accommodate their families. Nevertheless, Mary relaxed again when the cries continued beyond the row directly behind her. Just because her row was childfree didn’t mean the one behind her wasn’t.

  Eventually, the bustle died down, the cabin’s energy seeming to still as passengers buckled in for takeoff. The seat next to her was still blessedly empty, but Mary wouldn’t relax and rejoice until the cabin door closed and they were pushing back from the gate. When they continued to sit there for a few minutes, Mary peeled one eye open to see what the holdup was. Checking her phone’s time briefly, she noted they were ten minutes behind schedule, which didn’t exactly bother her. The flight could compensate for that quickly enough, but holiday travel made everyone more sensitive to delays.

  “Happy holidays, everyone, this is your captain speaking. There is a backup on the tarmac due to the volume of planes taking off at this hour and we are waiting for one more passenger. As soon as the backup clears and the passenger arrives, we’ll be on our way. Thank you for your patience.”

  The female pilot’s voice was cool and steady, which made Mary feel better. Someone who could keep a level head amid all the holiday haze was someone Mary trusted to get her from Boston to Houston safely.

  Before she closed her eyes, movement at the plane’s entry caught her attention. A tall, uniformed man appeared, his pilot’s cap sitting low on his head. She wasn’t able to get a good glance at his features because he immediately went into the cockpit. Assuming there was nothing more to see, Mary rested her head against her seat and closed her eyes again, wishing she were back in her apartment instead of a metal contraption designed to defy the laws of gravity.

  Someone sat next to her. She sighed but didn’t open her eyes. So much for thinking she could have an exit row to herself during one of the busiest travel times of the year. At least the person smelled good, spice with a hint of musk. She would consider it masculine but she didn’t want to assume. The person next to her could identify as female, nonbinary, agender, or another gender expression entirely.

  The muffled sound of an announcement crackled over the PA system and Mary pulled one of the headphone cups from her ears. She caught the tail end of it. The delay continued.

  She groaned.

  “Yeah. Same.”

  The voice was deep, resonant, and made her tingle in ways she didn’t appreciate. There was a slight Southern rounding of the vowels, indicating the speaker was certainly not from Boston. But there was something familiar about it, too, and a frisson of awareness slinked up her spine.

  Unable to stop herself, Mary looked to the left. There he was, in all of his dark-haired, blue-eyed, patrician-nosed, full-mouthed, chiseled-jawed glory.

  Her focus snapped to the seatback screen in front of her that flashed silent images of sports highlights. The knowing chuckle that sounded from her left had Mary closing her eyes again.

  “Deon’s gonna get a kick outta this!”

  Deon, Mary’s football star little brother who lived in Houston with his pregnant wife and small daughter. Deon, who’d asked her current row partner to be his best man at his wedding five years ago. Deon, who knew said best man and sister had bumped uglies on his wedding night and also knew she’d taken great, meticulous pains to avoid being alone with him since then.

  Deon, who apparently had invited them both to spend the holidays at his place, because why else would Joseph Douglas be sitting next to her with bedeviling glee?

  Mary wanted to hurl herself through the plane’s window. “How likely is your sitting next to me a coincidence?”

  Joseph tsked. “Do all scientists make habits of asking questions they know the answers to?”

  “Actually, yes. It’s called the scientific method?”

  “If your hypothesis is: I asked your brother for your flight information and made my arrangements accordingly, then no experiment necessary because you’d be right.”

  “Stalker.”

  He chuckled and she shivered, remembering the sensation of the sound against her neck, the swell of her breasts, the rise of her ass, the bead of her clit. “Or just someone who’d like to travel with a friend. Do you know how many favors and flights I had to do to get these days off?”

  “To see lil’ ole me?” Mary asked, skepticism stark in her tone.

  “Well, not just you,” Joseph said, then inhaled sharply. “I mean—”

  “No, it’s fine. Got it. And you’ve seen me, so you can cross me off your list.”

  Mary jerked her gaze to her window and put on her headphones again, mortification swirling in her belly like a nor’easter. She had to remind herself that just because she was the protagonist in her own story didn’t mean she was in someone else’s. And given how many times she and Joseph had spoken to each other since then, which was only slightly more than the number of protons a carbon particle had, why should she think she ever crossed his mind, relived a night that was among the best and followed by a morning that was one of the worst?

  She ignored him when he tapped her shoulder, didn’t take off her headphones to listen to the latest
update. The next track on her playlist, Gustav Holst’s The Planets, filled her ears and she closed her eyes again, resting her forehead against the cool window. She would maintain her policy of not talking to Joseph beyond social niceties. He was her brother’s friend, after all, not hers—never mind what he said.

  Because a “friend” wouldn’t make her feel special for an entire weekend, so special that she let down her guard long enough to take a trip to heaven, and then that “friend” wouldn’t joke about it with her brother and his friends as if she were his good deed of the year the next morning.

  When we said, “Make sure you be nice to Mary,” we didn’t mean that nice!

  What? What are y’all talking about?

  Don’t act like you weren’t in Mary’s room last night. I saw you creepin’ out this morning!

  Hoo! Look at him turning all red! Lookin’ like a stop sign!

  I bet that’s not what Mary said last night! “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stooop!”

  Y’all, shut up, for real.

  We saw you escort her out the reception and we waited for you to come back down, but you never did.

  That’s what that top-shelf liquor will do, make you feel so good any pussy will do!

  Fuck you.

  Speaking of—how was it? Did you make it jiggle?

  No, he didn’t; otherwise, the whole building woulda shook!

  Not necessarily. She probably just lay there. Besides, if she’d gotten to ride, he woulda been crushed!

  A wedding one day and a funeral the next—

  And I woulda cussed y’all both out for messing with my honeymoon plans!

  The laughter from that overheard conversation, particularly Joseph’s cackle, had chased Mary all the way back to her hotel room. She’d left the reception and flown standby back to Boston, not shedding a single tear until she’d crossed the threshold of her small one-bedroom apartment in Kendall Square. The only reason she was even going to her brother’s house was to see her niece; otherwise, she would’ve pled a complex bioassay and couldn’t be pulled away from the lab.

  But alas, she had too much vacation time and here she was. On a flight with her one-night lover sitting next to her. Too bad she couldn’t leave now.

  The plane was finally backing from the gate.

  Chapter 2

  The flight was not a smooth one.

  Joseph sighed, trying and failing not to look at Mary as the plane rumbled and rattled through the skies. She clutched the armrests, her mouth tight, the lines around her eyes borne of fear and not joy. Didn’t she say she hated flying once upon a time? Back when they’d been getting to know each other during Deon and Layla’s wedding weekend? He’d been assigned to “babysit” her, having drawn the short straw for the weekend despite being paired with an entirely different woman for the processional and recessional. But Layla’s maid of honor had been the girl of one of the other groomsmen at the time, so needs must. The guys had all prayed over him about that, Deon’s nerd of an older stepsister; but as quiet and unobtrusive Mary Jefferson was, she was as observant and sharp as his mama’s good knives.

  And just like those good knives, wit like Mary’s couldn’t be appreciated by just anyone. By the end of the first night of “Mary Duty,” he’d been looking forward to being her partner for the rest of the weekend.

  Okay, perhaps bed partner had taken things too far; but to this day, Joseph didn’t regret that night. Looking at her now and the changes that five years had imbued in her, he could tell the shell that had been sloughed away that weekend was back and harder than ever. He didn’t know what he’d done to make her turn so cold. She’d been sober and consenting that night—enthusiastically—and had shown bravery that he’d been humbled to witness. The way her hands, dark like a deeply tanned saddle, had trembled while undoing his tux; the way her nearly black eyes had locked on his when he’d smoothed her dress off her abundant form. He’d traced every line of her body with his fingers and tongue. Each valley and peak she possessed had known the map of his hands and his lips. Her own hands had clutched him too—his shoulders, his biceps, his waist. Her teeth had left a mark on his neck when she’d come, and he’d mourned when it had finally faded away. He’d felt owned by her, taken to heights he hadn’t anticipated, only to crash to earth when she’d left without a word. She’d offered him precious little of them since then too.

  The plane found an air pocket that made even his heart leap in his chest. He was a much better pilot than passenger, truth be told, and Mary’s bit-off screech had his heart clenching right along with her hands. Unable to bear her distress any longer, Joseph covered her hand with his, stroking her knuckles to calm her down. She didn’t move her hand, her tight facial expression loosening the barest amount. Then the plane hit more rough air and she hid her face into his shoulder. Apparently, her dread overrode whatever distance she’d wanted to keep between them.

  He pried her hand from the armrest with his left hand and wrapped his right arm around her shoulder, giving her permission to stay tucked into him. He hummed soothing, nonsensical words, hoping the thrum of his voice would drown out whatever sirens were blaring in her mind. She’d abandoned her headphones a while ago, when the announcements had started to come in like a steady drip and the plane wouldn’t stay smooth for more than three seconds. Every dip, every shudder, they squeezed each other. Joseph praised her with lulling murmurs for making it through so well. Occasionally, a flight attendant would ask if she was okay and they’d both nod, but Mary never left the safety of his neck.

  He preferred her in his arms because of ecstasy, not terror, but he’d take what he could get.

  Years of flying let him sense when the plane was starting its controlled descent before the announcement filled the cabin. To his surprise, Mary tensed even more and drew closer.

  “It’s too soon to land,” she said.

  He nodded and turned his face, his lips brushing her temple as he spoke. “Based on the timing, we’re landing in Charlotte.”

  Mary huffed. “Why didn’t they just cancel the flight if they knew the weather was going to be like this?”

  “Weather patterns can change quickly. I think the pilot thought we could make it safely if we flew high enough, but it’s not an exact science.”

  “Some hypotheses do need experimentation, but that doesn’t mean I want to be involved as a subject!”

  Joseph laughed quietly and squeezed her. “Despite the bumps, this is a good landing so far, I promise.”

  “Hmm, well, against my better judgment, I suppose I have no choice but to believe you.”

  Something inside him pinched at that. When had he been anything but honest with her? As much as he wanted to pull that thread, he decided the time to do that was when they were safely on the ground. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d get to hold her, so he would take advantage of the opportunity for as long as he could.

  The pilot confirmed they were indeed descending into Charlotte due to weather and they were incredibly sorry for the diversion, but everyone’s safety came first. That being said, the landing ended up being so rough his teeth clacked, but they were no worse for wear and, blessedly, on the ground. Mary didn’t have it in her to clap with the rest of the plane, but her groan of relief vibrated against his throat.

  He stifled a moan.

  “That cannot possibly be anyone’s definition of a good landing.”

  “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

  At first, Mary didn’t say or do anything, growing so still he had to check that she didn’t all of a sudden fall asleep, but then she burst into a laugh that had them both clamping her mouth to keep her mirth contained. Her eyes, not obscured by the glasses she normally wore, were free of the mistrust and wariness that had been in them when he’d first sat next to her on the plane. Now, they looked as they had during that dear, dear weekend: inviting, glittering, the deepest topaz he’d ever seen.

  “Thank you for letting me lean on you.”

&n
bsp; “Anytime.”

  The plane stopped moving, but they weren’t at a gate. She licked her lips and looked out the window. Joseph followed her gaze. There were so many planes and none of them were leaving their jet bridges. Though there was no snow yet, the visible breaths from the bundled-up airline workers indicated just how cold it was.

  Joseph sighed and pulled out his phone. “We need to get a hotel.”

  Mary turned to him again. “What?”

  “We’re definitely not getting back in the air again today. We need to hunker down.” He called the booking agent through his airline; but because he wasn’t due to fly again until next week, he didn’t have priority for a room. Cursing under his breath, he tried to see if he could get a room anywhere in the city, but, as he’d feared, the ones that were worth a damn were all booked.

  Joseph tried calling in favors from other pilots he knew as the plane was finally able to pull into a gate. Folks rushed off, probably in a mad dash to get hotel rooms that no longer existed. They would have to drive, and probably for a while, before they could find someplace to stay.

  Which meant they would need to hurry. He had no idea what the rental car inventory looked like.

  He called the booking agent again, hoping she’d have better luck with the rentals, and she did.

  “We’ll need two drivers on the rental,” Joseph said, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he helped Mary gather her things. She didn’t begrudge him his consideration, nor did she stomp off once they made it off the plane. She stayed with him even as he negotiated the rental with the booking agent, her expression one of hard-won patience.

  The booking all but in hand, Joseph ended the call and picked up the pace. Due to habit, Joseph used his long strides to move deftly through the throngs toward the rental car desk. However, his wide gait had Mary nearly running beside him. He realized she wasn’t as tall as he’d thought she was—the shorter side of average by just a hair. He stopped and she did, too, blinking up at him as if she were just noticing he was there.