His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 356 Frequent Flyers

Ella

The buzzing of the airport around me felt as if it was compounding my already mounting stress.

I always hated airports. To me, they were nothing but anxiety-inducing cacophonies of shuffling feet, murmured conversations, and the repetitive announcements coming through the loudspeakers.

Like a caged animal, I paced back and forth in the lobby, my eyes flicking every few seconds to the large digital clock overhead. The numbers shifted relentlessly: 9:22 a.m.

Logan was late. We were going to be late. Everything felt late, and everything would be ruined. I’d have to cancel my trip to visit my parents. I’d lose my money on my tickets. All of this stress would be for nothing.

I ran my hand through my hair, exhaling deeply. My anxiety manifested itself as a dull ache in my temples. My phone buzzed with a new message. It was from work, a new email needing my attention. Perfect timing. I sighed and began typing a response when a hand softly touched my shoulder.

“You’re late,” I said instantly, cutting him off before he even had the chance to utter a greeting. The words came out sharper than I intended, but my anxiety was causing me to teeter precariously between moderate annoyance and losing all sense of self-control

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but also a touch bewildered. “Late? Our flight’s not till 10:30, Ella. It’s only 9:23. Why are you in such a rush?”

I felt a surge of exasperation mix with my relief at seeing him. “Because, Logan, we still need to check in, drop off our luggage, get through TSA, and find our terminal. And god knows how long security lines could be. There could be delays! We could miss-”

He laughed. He actually laughed, as if the airport wasn’t a horrific maze of one confusing terminal after the other, frantic travelers, and impatient flight attendants. “Wow, I had no idea you were such a nervous traveler,” he teased.

I crossed my arms defensively. “I’m not nervous. I’m just realistic.”

Logan’s mouth curved upwards into that playful smirk that I had grown all too familiar with. I hadn’t seen it since right before he broke that guy’s nose at the race a week prior, but it was just as I remembered it. “Sure,” he said. “Whatever you say, Miss Morgan.”

airport was a maze of signs, arrows, and people-a constant reminder of how everyone was just living their own lives, intersecting momentarily within these pristine white walls. We worked our way through more slowly than I would have liked. But Logan seemed at ease, even pausing to grab a magazine from one of

felt my heartbeat accelerate as I fumbled

suit, his movements so calm it was as if he were performing a leisurely daily routine. He laughed and joked with the TSA guards, and didn’t bat an

roll my eyes at the same time. How he was

our flight. How that happened, I couldn’t fathom. It must have been some twist of cosmic fate, or maybe I was caught

one of the airport cafes, chic in a way that was meant to make travelers forget they were eating in a transportation

framed plush leather chairs, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee intermingled with

offered a comforting backdrop-people chatting, espresso machines steaming, the occasional ding of a

black coffee, staring at me over the rim of his cup while I frantically rifled through my carry-on to check for the third time that I had my necessities: neck pillow, book, eye

must-have: a little stuffed duck that had traveled with me since I was a kid. Moana had purchased it for me years ago and it had rarely left my side since then, especially when I was traveling. It was a trivial, but

sight, hidden in a side pocket. Knowing Logan, he was sure to tease me

setting his cup down as

“We went on yearly trips overseas. I’ve flown plenty. I just…

grinned, placing his cup back on

on private jets.

force than necessary. “First of all, we never took private jets. And

raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why’s

are sort of her whole thing. The idea of flying a private jet and spewing fumes into the air isn’t exactly her style. Nor is it

private jets, but I’m

flew first class. My dad wouldn’t have it any other way. But it’s not like I had any say in the

lips turned up at the

past, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “There was actually one time we flew business class. It was for a last- minute trip-a funeral.