Candy Cane Kisses - A Christmas Collection

Wheels Up for Christmas

by rskovach

The subtle, but familiar notes of holiday music filtered across the terminal as Ali paced in front of the open jet way door, dividing her attention between the crowd and the gate attendant who would make the final call for boarding any minute now. Still not seeing the face she'd been searching for, she stifled a yawn and began another round on the durable, yet equally unexciting commercial-grade carpet.

For once, her flight into Denver International had actually been early, but there was no way she was getting on the connection to New York without Hank. Her stubbornness was as much out of pragmatism as emotion. The weather had been unseasonably mild and the Mile High City had only gotten a few inches of fresh snow since she last passed through nearly three weeks earlier. With the way the crystalline flakes were now gliding past the ceiling-height windows of the departure area, winter was certainly about to arrive in full force. Their scheduled flight was still on-track to take off on time, but no such guarantees existed for any re-bookings.

Ali stopped at the window and in spite of her fitted leather jacket and cashmere infinity scarf, she shivered as the wind on the other side of the glass whipped into the snowflakes and thrust them against the pane. On the tarmac below, a man bundled head-to-toe in winter gear stood in a cherry picker and worked a hose pointed at the parked airplane's wing, misting it with de-icing spray.

Wearily leaning against the thick glass, Ali lifted her arm. Her Rolex read ten past six, but when a petite airline employee reached for the intercom to make the dreaded announcement, Ali grabbed her carry-on and rushed to the counter. She had no idea how she was going to stall a plane full of passengers from taking off on time, but the alternative of spending Christmas either without her family or without her boyfriend wasn't an option.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your final call—" the gate agent began the oft-rehearsed warning before the sound of harried steps echoed down the terminal. Ali turned her head just in time to see a young family running toward her gate. The mother pushed a stroller laden with so many bags, it was a surprise a baby could even fit among the bunch, while the father in a Santa hat hugged another small child to his chest.

A mix of relief at the delay yet disappointment at its source ran through her, but as Ali stepped aside to let the newcomers catch their breath and sort out their boarding passes, a more familiar figure also emerged from the crowd. Dressed in gray fatigues, Hank had his leather weekend bag slung over his shoulder and a huge grin on his face as he walked briskly toward her. Already standing over six feet, with the addition of his cap and confident posture, he towered over most of the travelers around him.

Ali's pulse accelerated in anticipation of his nearness, and when only a few body lengths separated them, she ran ahead. As Hank dropped his bag, she jumped into his arms and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed in his familiar, musky scent while stroking the short hair on the back of his head, but he was less restrained. Pulling away just enough to find her lips before covering them with his own, Hank tightened his grip on her hips as she dug her fingers into his nape. Their tongues fervently caressed each other as they tried to make up for their extended separation.

"You're late," Ali whispered between kisses, but Hank just chuckled.

Pushing a stray, brown hair out of her eyes, he nodded toward the gate. "You can scold me all you want later, but we should probably go."

Ali looked over her shoulder. The attendant was leaning against the security door to keep it open; if only she had also been tapping her foot would her point have been any more obvious.