How had I thought I’d hide my anxiety about flying for the first time from Sal?
The airport was so much louder and brighter than I’d imagined. Sal took care of checking us in and I followed his lead with going through security. My heart was hammering in my chest as the businessman behind me shoved his tray onto the belt impatiently as I hurriedly took off my boots. Had I known I was going to have to basically take all my clothes off, I would have worn sneakers and forgone the belt.
Sal turned to glare at the guy practically breathing down my neck and guided me in front of him protectively. “You go first, babe,” he said in my ear.
“Thanks,” I muttered, eyeing the metal detector skeptically. Oh, shit, please don’t let me set it off! I walked forward in my socked feet toward the impatient looking TSA agent who waved me through. No alarms sounded, and I took a much needed deep breath.
I snatched up my bag, shoes, and belt and moved away from the chaos of bodies to a nearby seat. Sal was doing the same and came to sit by my side, pulling his boots on easily. My hands were shaking and I tried desperately to hide it.
Of course, he didn’t miss it.
He reached over and took my clenched hands in his much larger ones. “You nervous, Birdie?” he asked quietly.
I laughed nervously. “I’ve never flown before,” I admitted.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to worry about it.”
His eyes warmed at my admission as he leaned over and kissed me softly on the mouth, a rare display of public affection.
Everything felt much easier after that. Sal held my hand the entire way through the terminal to our surprisingly crowded gate. Apparently, a lot of people took the red-eye to New York.
When we taxied on the runway, I was surprised to feel more excited than nervous. I watched in wonder from the window seat, which Sal had made sure I could have as we left the ground and ascended to the sky.
“It’s so beautiful,” I murmured, looking down at the light below.
He leaned over me, resting his chin on my shoulder to look out the window.
“Do you think we can see your house?” I asked.
“We’re already way past home, babe,” he chuckled. “Do you think you can sleep? The funeral is first thing tomorrow. I don’t want you to be too tired,” he said while eyeing me with concern.
I shrugged, seriously doubting I could actually sleep. “I’ll be fine. I’ve never been to New York before. I can sleep when we get home,” I smiled. “Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep,” I instructed.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with a lazy smile, putting his seat back and shutting his eyes. What could I say? The man was gorgeous. I never got tired of looking at him. “I can feel you staring at me,” he muttered before cracking a smile.
I laughed. “Sorry, you’re just so pretty,” I teased.
He cracked one eye open. “Pretty?” he demanded in mock outrage.
“In an extremely macho, badass kind of way,” I assured him.
“Well, okay then,” he huffed, shutting his eye.
I smiled and turned to gaze out the window.
“Baby, we’re landing,” Sal’s voice murmured in my ear. I’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and sat up to stretch and rub my eyes. “Glad you had a chance to sleep a bit.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, letting out a small squeal when we landed with a jolt. I was still half-asleep and hadn’t realized we were that close to the ground.
Sal squeezed my hand reassuringly as we taxied the runway and arrived at our gate.
The walk through JFK was a blur of people and noise. I was so glad Sal knew what he was doing. The crowds seemed to part for him, allowing him to stride through at a quick pace while he pulled me gently along behind him. Sal always had an air of authority, but I noticed it was heightened now as we navigated the crowded airport. This was no longer his turf, none of his brothers were a phone call away to back him if needed, and I sensed he was more vigilant than usual. When we reached the curb and hailed a cab, it was just as chaotic.
I wasn’t used to so many people and so much chaos. Sure, Reno was a large city, but I’d always lived on the outskirts. I was captivated by the huge buildings and sheer activity as the cab navigated its way through the city to our hotel. Sal had arranged for early check-in so we could change and freshen up before his grandfather’s funeral at 10 AM.
We hadn’t talked much about the funeral or his family. He didn’t seem willing to share, and I didn’t press him. It was enough that I was here; it was huge.