Page 39 of Wicked Heat

He finishes off the last of his drink, his eyes never leaving my face. “Full disclosure?”

I hesitate, then nod.

“I saw that the planes to New York were grounded. I thought you might be down here.”

“Oh.” I’m flattered. And in the kind of way that makes my skin tingle. “You have my number. You could have just called.”

“Ah, but that’s not a meet cute.”

I laugh at his deadpan expression. “And cheese fries are?”

“Number one ranked meet cute according to IMDB. Trust me on that. So, movie?”

I’m biting back laughter even as I duck my head so he can’t see my eyes. Going to his room would be a bad idea. A very bad idea.

I draw a breath and force myself to look at him, fully intending to decline. What comes out is, “A movie sounds great.”

His grin broadens as he pulls out his wallet and puts two hundred-dollar bills on the table. “I don’t feel like waiting for the check. I think that should cover it.”

“Either airport drinks are insanely expensive, or you’re an incredible tipper.”

“Go with whichever makes me seem more interesting.”

“Done,” I say, then laugh when he twirls his hand in a tell me gesture. “No way,” I say. “I keep my assessments to myself.” I give him my best smile. “Wouldn’t want you to get an inflated ego.”

“It’s too late for that,” he says as he stands. “Shall we?”

“Sure. But I need to run by my room first.” I have no idea what prompts me to say that. Except that I need a minute by myself. To settle this strange, rumbling feeling in my gut.

“All right. Let’s go.”

I shake my head. “Just give me your room number. I won’t be long.”

“I’ll do better than that.” He pulls the hotel’s little paper key holder from his pocket and tugs out one of the two keys. Then he eases over to the empty table beside us and takes the Sharpie off the bill tray that the waitress had left. He writes his room number on the card, blows on it so the ink won’t smear, then hands it to me.

“Perfect,” I say.

“Don’t take too long. I’m going to order wine and popcorn.”

“Hotels deliver popcorn?”

“They better. Or I’ll be having harsh words with the management.”

A laugh bubbles out of me and I’m struck by how easy it is to be with this man. More than that, I see a little bit of his dad in him. A man used to getting what he wants because he has the personality and the means to make it happen.

Right now, he wants popcorn and a movie with me.

And damned if that isn’t exciting… and downright terrifying.

Twelve

I look down at the room key in my hand.

A simple hotel card key, but there’s nothing simple about the room number scribbled on it.

I want to go. Right then, I think I want to go to that room more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. So much I can feel my feet starting to lead me in that direction. But I have to slow down. I need to stop and think. Because right now is not the time to be stupid.

So that’s what I do. I stop dead in the middle of the lobby, ignoring the curses from other waylaid travelers forced to go around me. Then I let my eyes roam up and down the huge lobby, taking in all the other passengers who’ve been shuttled here. Some in family groups. Most alone. Like me.