The soft hum of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" filtered across the terminal as Ali paced in front of the open jet way door, splitting her attention between the crowd and the gate attendant who'd make the final boarding call any minute now. Still not seeing the face she'd been searching for, she began another round on the durable, yet 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 icy flakes were now gliding past the glass walls 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. In spite of her fitted leather jacket and cashmere infinity scarf, she shivered as the wind on the other side 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, she grabbed her bag 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 Thanksgiving 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 warning before the sound of commotion 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 piled 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 and disappointment 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 appeared. Dressed in camouflage 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 raced in anticipation, and when only a few body lengths separated them, she ran ahead and jumped into his arms. Snuggling 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. 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 their tongues 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.

Gathering their bags, they made their respective apologies and thanks to the woman before finally boarding. The on-board crew was more patient as they politely greeted the final two passengers, helping Ali and Hank stow their bags and settle into their First class seats. To celebrate the season, they were even handed red and white striped, peppermint candy canes. Ali had just bitten into hers when the pilot stopped by their row.

"Good evening, Captain." The graying man greeted Hank based on the visible rank insignia on his uniform before extending his hand. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but I try to say hello to all the servicemen and women on my flights."

Hank jumped out of his seat and returned the handshake. "Of course not, sir. Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Are you on leave for the holidays or just starting your tour?" asked the pilot as he gestured toward Hank's uniform.

"Oh, no sir," Hank said, sheepishly rubbing his nose. "I'm based at the academy down in Colorado Springs, and time got away from me. I barely made check-in for this flight even without taking time to change."

The man laughed and patted Hank's arm. "That's all right, son. And the Air Force Academy you say? I'm class of '86 myself," he said before his eyes landed on Hank's nametape. "Mathis? You don't know Henry Mathis by any chance do you?"

"I'm assuming you're referring to my father, Lieutenant General Henry Mathis?" Hank asked with a smile.

"Lieutenant General? Your old man has gone up in the world," the pilot noted with a nod, obviously impressed. "I flew under him when you were probably still in diapers. No offense."

"None taken," Hank said with another smile, making Ali's insides tingle knowing that he was all hers. "I'm used to it. Everyone in the force seems to know Dad."

"How is he? Still scaring the pants off new recruits?" he asked, and Ali had to suppress a giggle. Hank's dad was an absolute sweetheart. She couldn't imagine him in drill-sergeant mode even when he had been top man at the US Air Force Academy.

"Not any more," Hank said, shaking his head. "He retired a few months ago."

"Well, good for him," the pilot said with another nod. "I suppose it's all fishing and ball games from now on."

Hank shrugged. "Actually, he's mentioned running for state Senate. We'll see if anything comes of it," he said.

"Now that sounds like the Henry Mathis I knew," said the pilot before he glanced toward the cockpit. "Well, I better go or we'll miss our wheels up time, but tell Henry that Frank Poteet said hello next time you see him, will you?"

"Yes, sir," Hank said, shaking the man's hand. "Great meeting you, Captain Poteet."

"You too, Captain Mathis," Poteet said before finally looking at Ali, who'd been pretending to examine the in-flight magazine while discreetly listening in. "Enjoy your flight, Miss—"

"Oh, apologies," Hank interjected. "This is my . . . Ali Barros."

Momentarily ignoring the awkward—and hilarious—flub, Ali bid farewell to the pilot before he hurried away for pre-flight preparations.

"My Ali Barros?" she asked, unable to resist the tease as soon as Hank sat back down next to her.

His face flushed from the gaffe, which was especially apt as "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer" played over the intercom. "Yeah. Sorry. Girlfriend is so . . . I don't know. It just makes me think of junior high," he said.

Ali giggled before snuggling closer. "What about lovah?" she asked, purposefully softening the pronunciation to make it more playful.

"You're right. That would have been way more appropriate," he deadpanned before kissing her. When he pulled away, he ran his tongue over his top lip. "Pepperminty."

Ali held up the half eaten candy cane. "There's more where that came from," she said with a wink.

Dropping back into the seat, she allowed herself to relax and let fatigue finally overcome her. Hank was safely beside her and she wouldn't have to move out of the seat for the next three and a half hours.

"I've really missed you," she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He stroked her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. "The last few weeks haven't exactly been a party for me either. At least we have the next six days together even if I do have to share you with your parents and the movers," he said.

Ali sighed. "I know it's still not ideal, but once I'm permanently settled in Seattle, I'll be able to take more time off between work trips."

"You know that I love . . ." He paused and Ali's breath caught in her throat. Although they'd been together almost four months, they still hadn't exchanged those three little words. She quickly sat up and looked into his eyes, not wanting to miss such an important declaration.

Momentarily casting his gaze down and visibly flustered, Hank cleared his throat and continued. "Well, I think it's great that you're so committed to your work. You know I don't want you to change your lifestyle for me."

Ali smirked in an attempt to hide her disappointment.

"Be careful what you wish for. Any decisions I make from now on might just be for purely selfish reasons," she said as she cupped Hank's face in her hands and kissed him, even as an ominous feeling pulled at her gut.

Balancing her personal life with her professional career in investment banking wasn't a sacrifice in her own eyes, but if Hank felt it was, perhaps he wasn't ready to make a similar long-term commitment in his job as a military flight instructor.

Her mind should have squarely been on the upcoming Thanksgiving break and Ali sighed, knowing she really couldn't complain. Hank had been great about meeting up whenever they could, whether jetting to Manhattan for the weekend when she was stuck in the city, flying to Seattle on the days she was there setting up the new office, or just hanging out at his home base in Colorado when she could arrange for a short layover between trips.

She made similar jaunts so they were never more than a few weeks apart, but although Ali was used to the frantic pace and sleeping in a different bed every few days, Hank was more of a homebody, content with his well-established routines.

Sitting back, she kicked off her ankle boots and snuggled under the airplane blanket.

"Next time, you really need to let me pay for your seat upgrade with my miles. Most of my flights are on my company's dime, but you're going to go broke with all these trips," she said.

He buckled his seatbelt. "I think I can manage for a while. It's not like we'll be doing this forever, right?"

Ali digested Hank's words as she watched the flight attendant, staring without actually comprehending as the woman mimed the required safety procedures.

Hank didn't want her to change her life, but at the same time, he was confident their long-distance relationship was only temporary. It was an odd way of saying that he just considered her a fling, but nothing so far had indicated that was his intention. What did he mean then?

Her eyes widened at a realization. What if he planned on making a change in his life that would affect them both? Would Hank really consider moving to Seattle to be with her? His future as an Air Force pilot was still in question, even if the experimental medication he'd been taking since the summer had virtually eliminated his chronic vertigo. Unfortunately, a pharmaceutical cure wasn't enough to get him back into the cockpit of a real fighter jet, and he had to be content with maintaining his skills in a simulator.

There was a base an hour outside of Seattle—Hank had actually mentioned it before—but even if he were able to arrange for a transfer, why would he even consider doing that for her now? Taking out all the time spent apart, their relationship was really just weeks old and they were squarely in the honeymoon phase of dating. No one should have been considering making any drastic decisions just quite yet, no matter how well things were going.

Ali looked out the porthole window only to see the lit runway lights pass by at an increasing speed. In her musings, she hadn't even noticed that they were in the midst of takeoff. She gripped her armrest as the plane's nose lifted off the ground, and Hank took her hand in his. She looked at him and smiled, remembering that this was his favorite part of flying: that brief moment between the time when the back wheels were still on the tarmac and when the plane pulled up into the air, which made your stomach drop from the swift ascent.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning closer.

She nodded, lifting her face to his. "Yeah," Ali whispered before kissing him softly. Pulling away just far enough to look into his hazel eyes, she smiled.

He was so damn good looking it practically hurt. The strong jaw with the requisite five o'clock shadow, the light eyes perfectly contrasting against his dark hair, the shapely mouth that she could never get enough of and which was now drawn into a mischievous grin, revealing his straight, white teeth.

A flush of embarrassment ran through her. She was overreacting. He was a guy, saying a jumble of words as they flowed out of his mouth and which probably didn't mean anything important. As usual, she was reading too much into something that wasn't even there, and speculating was only making her unnecessarily confused when she was already dead tired.

She was fine. He was fine. They were going to be fine.

Hank stroked her cheek with his free hand, and Ali closed her eyes. "How was Beijing, by the way?" he asked.

She looked up. "I'm guessing Beijing was just as crowded and loud and smoggy as it usually is, but I was in Shanghai and then Seoul."

"Uhm, yeah, Shanghai. That's what I said." He kissed her again to take attention off the error, but Ali didn't mind, gladly returning the affection.

"I've been traveling for over twenty-four hours, but what's your excuse?" She teased when they once again parted. "Has your CO been running you ragged ever since you became useful again?"

Ali remembered recent stories about Hank's increasing levels of responsibilities from his commanding officer. He'd been one of the Air Force's elite fighter pilots before his accident almost a year-and-a-half earlier, and while initial chances for his full recovery seemed slim, now there was hope he could one day return to his former status. Going from teaching junior airmen collegiate courses in front of a whiteboard to showing them hands-on tactical maneuvers in virtual reality environments got him one step closer to realizing his most significant wish.

Hank laughed. "I honestly just misread the clock."

"So that's why you didn't have time to change?" she asked, playing with the button on his sleeve.

He pouted, making those already luscious lips even more irresistible. "I thought you liked me in uniform."

Ali touched his face. "That I do." She kissed him one more time before leaning back and reclining her seat for fear that if she didn't put space between them now, she'd be tempted to ravage him then and there. "And I can't wait to see you out of it, but for now I'm going to close my eyes for a little bit, if you don't mind."

"Sweet dreams," Hank said softly. "Peppermint dreams, in fact. I'll wake you when we're home."

Under the blanket, Ali smiled. Hank had never lived in New York and most likely he never would. The only reason he was calling it home was because he'd be there with her.

And that decided it. They were going to be all right.

The End (or is it . . . ?)

Author's Note: THANK YOU so much for sticking with me for this Wattpad Creator's project. The book is now fully posted and complete! If you enjoyed Hank and Ali's story, please make sure to tell your Wattpad friends. Word-of-mouth is the best advertising and it's really appreciated! If there is enough interest, I might post something extra soon . . . 🧡