Page 17 of He Loves Me Knot
“You would be an expert on that.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Callum sipped his coffee.Disgusting.He’d read more than one article about how coffee was the last thing anyone should order on an airplane, but he needed to sober up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m full of it, too. But I just thought I’d give you a friendly warning.”
“I don’t need your warnings, but thanks.” Lydia flipped her long hair over her shoulder, settling back into her seat with a cringe.
“What reason do I have to lie?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned. “I know it’s impossible for you to believe, but I’m pretty likable.”
Yes, I know that, actually.Before he could think of a worthy retort, she shifted in her seat again, and a flash of pain crossed her features. She straightened fully in her seat, stretching.
“You okay?” He scanned her face.
“Fine. Sitting for this long is always uncomfortable.”
I know that, too.He tried not to think about the cramp in his right thigh. Of course, she was nearly a foot shorter than him and in the aisle seat, so she was faring far better than he was. But he hated to point out anything else that would irritate her.
He cleared his throat. “Look, I know . . .”What do I want to say, really? “It’s none of my business but this fellow is just playing you. Trust me.”But again, why should he care?
“You don’t know, though, do you, Callum? You don’t know me, and you sure as hell don’t know Sergio. And you know what? Since we’re not at work, I don’t have to pretend to care about your opinion. I’d really appreciate it if you could keep your snide remarks—and chuckles—to yourself.”
Wow, she speaks up for herself occasionally.
Maybe I should make mimosas a part of the workday.
“Right.” He pushed his food tray away, then pulled out his headphones again. If she wanted to be ignored, then he would do that.Easy enough.
He turned on the screen for the selection of in-flight movies and found a thriller he’d never heard of to watch. He needed something loud if he was going to drown out Sergio’s voice beside him.
Two hours later, as the movie was hitting the action sequence of the climax, the screen clicked off, and the captain’s voice took over the sound on his headphones, announcing their impending arrival in Costa Rica and the need to move all seats to a full and upright position.
Callum pushed the window shade open himself this time and glanced out over the lush green vegetation below. Wavy tin and occasional terra cotta rooftops populated most of the buildings. Every time he’d arrived here, he’d thought about how different Costa Rica looked from the air. He rarely noticed the wealth disparity of structures from the other places he’d lived when he was on the ground.
But now, the familiar sight of those tin roofs brought a wave of nostalgia, of lying awake in bed at night in his grandparents’ home, listening to the falling rain. A singular rhythm. He didn’t notice rain in England when he was inside. To begin with, there was too much of it throughout the year to be bothered by it—but also the walls and the roofs absorbed the sound.
He hadn’t thought he missed coming here.
He’d stayed away for six years, after all.
And now that he’d been dragged here . . . he wasn’t sure how to feel.
Callum clenched his jaw, then pushed away all memories. He didn’t want to feel. Didn’t need it. The painful past could stay buried for another ten days. Then life would go back to normal anyway and he could go right back to forgetting.
He ignored Sergio and Lydia’s continued flirtation as the plane touched down and quickly passed them both when they disembarked.
Off the plane, it took him a moment to orient himself. He’d never flown directly to Liberia before. He always flew to the capital city of San Jose, which was in the Central Valley and farther from the coast.
His leg felt stiff and painful, and, combined with his headache, it meant he should take some pain medication before hopping in a rental car forLa Hacienda.
After stopping at the restroom, he made his way toward immigration, bypassing the long line for foreign nationals and getting into the citizens’ line. He’d only brought his Costa Rican passport so he could skip the line here, but the immigration area seemed to have triple the number of officers for foreign nationals than for citizens.
A couple of feet in front of him in line, a regrettably familiar voice caught his attention. “Aló,” Sergio spoke into his mobile phone.
Callum narrowed his eyes at the back of Sergio’s head.
“Mae, suave. Acabo de llegar.”Dude, hold up. I just got here.
Digging his passport out of his laptop case, he searched for the customs paperwork he’d been given on the plane, trying to ignore Sergio’s conversation.