by Dylann Crush
Teddy must have stepped away from the band because the music faded. “What time tomorrow? You set up that boat to leave in the afternoon.”
“Don’t worry, I should be there in time. How was your flight? Everyone make it?”
“Mom, Dad, and Cal and I got here fine. Dad brought Simon along, too. You know he can’t bear to take a real vacation, not even for his only son’s wedding.”
Reagan shook her head. Her dad didn’t go anywhere without Simon Lowell, his Chief of Staff. “How about Cal’s family?”
“His parents were delayed an hour, but they’re here now and his brother and sister-in-law are on the hotel shuttle on their way.”
“Are your rooms acceptable?”
“You did great. The bottle of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries were a nice touch.”
“Good. I’m so glad to hear it.” When she’d visited the swanky Miami property on a corporate tour last summer, she’d immediately made the reservations for everyone to stay the one night in Miami. Her job did have some perks—like setting up the wedding party with a free overnight and swinging the private rental of an entire island resort for the actual wedding. Fantastic that everyone else didn’t seem to have any trouble getting to Miami. Now if she could figure out a faster way to get herself there. Who else would be able to manage the function down to the last detail?
“Can you update Mom and Dad about what’s going on?”
“Yeah, Dad’s here right now. He wants to talk to you.”
A few moments later her father’s soothing baritone reached through the phone and calmed her jangled nerves. “Reagan.” It was one of his many “public eye” tones—the one he used to smooth over misunderstandings and reassure the voting public he was doing a good job.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Teddy tells me you’re stuck somewhere in Kentucky.”
“Yes. They’re bussing us to Louisville, and putting us on another flight tomorrow morning.”
“Your mother’s worried to death that you’re not going to get here in time. Why don’t you let me call in a few favors? I can have Simon get a chartered flight arranged in the next hour. You can be here before your brother closes down the beachfront bar.”
Her stomach cramped and a bead of sweat broke out along her hairline at the mere suggestion of climbing aboard one of those deathtraps her father was so fond of using for transportation. The “yes” hovered on the tip of her tongue but couldn’t force its way through her clenched jaw. Next time. She’d get through the wedding and take the small plane next time, she promised herself.
“That’s okay, Dad. Tell Mom I’ll be there by noon.” Relief coursed through her veins, flooding her system from the inside out like a calming balm.
“I sure wish you’d let me help. You’re safer in one of those small planes than you are in a car on the highway, honey. You’ve got to get over this fear of yours.” His voice deepened a notch to a more authoritative “now listen to me and listen to me good” tone. The tone he saved to rein in staffers who got rogue ideas about how things should be done in his office.
“Thanks, Dad. Let me do it my way. I’ll be there tomorrow before you’re done with your second Bloody Mary.”
“All right. I don’t like it, but I won’t rush you. I’ll let your mother know. Love you, lambchop.”
Her heart gave a little squeeze at the nickname. Her dad hadn’t called her lambchop in years. “Love you, too.”
By the time she disconnected, Zach had reached the front of the line. She joined him as the person in front of them stepped away.
“Boarding passes, please.” The uniformed employee’s fingers flew across the keyboard and she didn’t bother looking up.
Zach slid their boarding passes across the counter.
“Everything all right with your family?” he asked.
“Yeah. Everyone’s there, or almost there, but me.” The irony settled around her shoulders like a shawl of bitterness. She’d been knee-deep in details for months. Who would be there to make sure the bar had her dad’s brand of gin and that a stray pine nut didn’t fall into the pasta dish and send her mom into anaphylactic shock?
“I’m sure they’ll wait to start having fun until you get there.” Zach’s cheek crinkled as he served up a wink.
The gate agent passed him a stack of papers, and they stepped away from the counter.
“Can I have my voucher?” Reagan asked.
“You don’t trust me to hang onto it for you until we get to the hotel?”
Reagan held out her hand. Now wasn’t the time to put her trust in someone else. Once upon a time she’d trusted Zach with her heart and look how that turned out. “I’d feel better if I held onto it.”
“Have it your way.” He handed over a slim stack of folded papers.
Reagan flipped through to make sure she had everything then slid them into her purse.
“Should we go find the bus?” He lifted the edge of the pink box. “Unless you want to share dessert before we catch our ride…”
“Give me that!” Reagan snatched the cupcake box from his hands. “If you’re nice and sit next to me on the bus so I don’t get stuck with the crying baby or the sweaty guy from the plane, I might—might—let you eat the one that got crunched.” She wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them. Why did she keep putting herself through the agony of being that close to him? She’d be better off walking away, pretending like she’d never set eyes on him again.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Zach hefted his pack higher on his shoulder and the two of them joined the stream of passengers flowing toward the outer doors and the bus that would transport them on the next leg of their journey.
Zach shifted against the tall, cushioned seat of the chartered bus and tossed a glance at Reagan. She’d buried herself in her notebook as soon as the bus pulled away from the curb. Must be tough for a gal like Reagan, one who always had to be in control, to be at the mercy of a crappy plane. But she hid it well. Years of living in the shadow of her dad had provided an excellent training ground for rolling with the punches.
In complete contrast, up to this point in his life, Zach loved not knowing what the next segment of the trip would hold. He’d lived from moment to moment since he graduated from high school. Every new bump in the road signaled another call to adventure.
If he hadn’t been stranded in the international terminal at LAX a couple of years ago, he wouldn’t have been front and center when that red-hot European boy band arrived for their first US tour. Those shots of their first steps on US soil had paid for two new lenses and a year’s worth of rent on the apartment he kept near Malibu.
But for the past six months, he’d felt a new urge. To put down roots and make more of a home base. Zooming around the world at a moment’s notice, snapping shots of celebs to pay the bills during the tight spots—that had been okay in his early twenties. With the few friends he’d stayed in touch with settling down and getting married, he wondered if he was the kind of guy who could make that work.
The crazy hours, doing whatever it took to get the shot, and putting himself in danger, didn’t hold the same rush as it did when he first started out. Making a name for himself as a credible, legit travel photographer, did. If he took the payment from the Campbell job he’d be able to turn his back on guys like Scazzoli. But he didn’t want to put Reagan at risk.
He let his mind wander, enjoying having Reagan beside him. The scent of her shampoo drifted toward his nose, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled—coconut and vanilla. Like suntan oil on the beach. He couldn’t get involved. Couldn’t allow himself to care about her again. Her dad made it perfectly clear she wasn’t just in another league, she lived in another universe… light years away from the rock he obviously thought Zach lived under.
But Zach could enjoy spending time with her, even if it would be brief. His eyelids drifted down. Before he completely relaxed and gave into the drowsiness, his phone vibrated against his thigh. He pulled it
out of his pocket and the screen lit up with a text from Scazzoli: Find out anything yet?
Zach angled the phone away from her. No. Flight diverted. Will land in Miami tomorrow.
Scazzoli: Stick with her, ok?
Zach: You got it.
The dull ache twinged in his core as he pressed “Send.” What the hell was that? He was doing the right thing by stringing Scazzoli along, at least for the time being. If he refused, Scazzoli wouldn’t just ruin Zach’s career, but he’d send another vulture down to get the shot, one who wouldn’t hesitate to sell out the Campbell family. At least if he thought Zach was on the job it would delay the inevitable. Take that, twinge.
Half an hour later, the bus pulled into the circle drive of a two-star Louisville hotel. The driver spoke into the intercom. “Those of you with the number one on your voucher need to get off the bus here. If you have a two, we’ll head to that hotel next.”
Zach unfolded the paperwork the gate agent had given him.
“What number is on your voucher?” Reagan asked.
His fingers flipped through the sheets of paper. “That’s odd.”
“What?”
“Um, I don’t have a voucher. What does yours say?”
“What do you mean you don’t have a voucher?” She snatched the papers from his hands and flipped through. “Why didn’t they give you a voucher?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go. We can check inside.” He stood in the aisle and waited for her to climb out of her window seat.
Reagan’s eyebrows knit together, and her lips twisted into a frown. “You should have checked the paperwork when she gave it back to you.”
“You’re right.” Zach shrugged. “But I didn’t. There’s nothing I can do about it now except go inside and hope they’ve got another room.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbed the cupcake box from the overhead compartment, and made her way up the aisle.
Zach stepped aside as passengers from the back of the bus filtered past. He should have checked the paperwork. Didn’t matter now, though. If they didn’t have an extra room, he’d either have to talk Reagan into sharing or…he’d probably have better luck trying to catch some winks on a couch in the lobby. He ducked down and peered through the rain-spattered, tinted window of the bus. Hell, did this hotel even have a lobby?
5
Reagan hunkered under the narrow overhang of the tiled roof, trying to stay out of the rain. “Do you see my bag?” She glanced over the array of roller bags stacked against the faux stucco siding of the hotel. “They said our bags would be on the curb, but I don’t see mine.”
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” Zach helped the bus driver unload the rest of the luggage, getting drenched in the process.
How would he know what her bag even looked like? “It’s not here. My silver hard side Tumi stands out in a crowd.” That’s the reason she picked that bag…so she’d be able to find it easily on a crowded baggage carousel. But after skimming over the remaining bags that hadn’t already been hauled inside, hers was nowhere in sight.
Could this day get any worse? She hated to even throw that question out to the universe for fear the answer would come back to bite her in the ass. She’d been holding it together so well, waiting for the moment to get away from Zach. Zach with his broad chest, sunshiny good looks, and… oh hell, she needed to take some space before she laid into him about things better left in the past.
Zach’s hand closed around the handle of an oversized, weathered brown leather bag. “Let’s get inside and get the room situation figured out. Then you can call the airline and find out what happened to your tomb-whatever-the-hell-you-called-it.”
“Tumi,” she mumbled. A Tumi with her contacts, the dress she planned on wearing to the wedding, and fifty boxes of the most decadent, personalized chocolates the guests could ever hope to let melt in their mouths. Determined to not let the lost bag and drenching downpour get the better of her, she steeled herself for the potential argument ahead and followed Zach through the automatic sliding glass door.
As rainwater dripped off her hair, splashed into her ballet flats, and bounced onto the ceramic tile floor, she took a good look around the tiny check-in area. Faded prints of horses grazing in green meadows and famous Kentucky Derby winners graced the beige walls. A long line of their fellow passengers stretched from the desk almost to the door.
Reagan joined Zach at the end of the line and prepared for yet another wait. “I’m sorry for letting my frustration get the best of me. It’s been a really long day.” A long day, a long week, a long month. A long eight years with him invading her thoughts.
“I take it a detour to Louisville wasn’t a line item in your notebook?” He peered down at her, his brown eyes sparkling with that ever-present hint of humor. She’d always loved his ability to shine light into the shadows and tease her into a good mood when hers had gone bad. Thank goodness that hadn’t changed.
“Um, that’s an understatement. I’ve been working out the details of this wedding for the past six months. Knowing everyone’s there without me and there’s not a darn thing I can do about it must be getting to me.”
Zach rested a hand on her shoulder, and she let out a sigh at the contact. Being around him had a calming effect on her rattled nerves. It also sent her pulse racing and raised goose bumps along her extremities, but knowing she wasn’t in this alone helped ease her anxiety. Poor Zach, all he’d tried to do was help her.
His stomach let out a loud growl. It had been hours since they’d shared that platter of nachos at the airport bar.
“Peace offering?” She held out the pink box.
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Just one.”
He flipped up the lid and picked up the cupcake that had been slightly crunched. His fingers peeled back the plain white wrapper, and he shoved a third of the oversized cupcake into his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly, like he was savoring each morsel. When he finally swallowed, he held the remaining cupcake out to her. “Want a bite?”
“Sure.” She broke off a tiny bit and popped it in her mouth. The subtle taste of Irish cream floated across her tongue. She licked her lips, capturing every last crumb. Sal’s slogan was dead on…it was like a little taste of heaven.
When they finally reached the registration desk, Reagan presented the single room voucher and explained the problem. The clerk typed something on the keyboard in front of her, and Reagan craned her neck to try to see over the counter.
“I apologize for the misunderstanding, but I don’t have any additional rooms to offer you.” She slid a keycard across the counter. “The airline took everything we have.”
Reagan leaned against the desk and offered a knowing smile. “I’m in the industry. I know all hotels hold back a certain number of rooms for emergencies. And this definitely qualifies as an emergency.”
The clerk assessed Reagan over the top of her glasses. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this hotel’s practice is to book the rooms if we can. We don’t hold anything back. As I said, we have no available rooms.”
No rooms? Impossible. She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t expect me to sleep with him.” She gestured toward Zach.
Zach leaned in and mumbled close to her ear. “Hey, cupcake. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried.”
Reagan spun around and pressed her palm against his chest, his rock hard, slab-of-granite chest. “Can you give me a minute? I’m trying to fix this.”
“By all means.” Zach stepped to the side and leaned an elbow on the counter.
“We need another room.” She summoned her most polite smile and turned the charm up to high. “We can’t possibly share, we’re practically strangers.”
“Ma’am, all I can do is give you one room for each voucher you have. You have one voucher, you get one room.”
“Can you call another hotel? See if there’s something else nearby?”
“I could but I can already tell you everything
is booked. We’ve got ten thousand Shriners in town for a conference. But if you’d like to wait over there”—the clerk gestured to the two club chairs by the front door—“I can let you know if we have anything left once everyone’s redeemed their vouchers.”
Hope sprung in her chest. “Yes, that would be fantastic.”
“Here, take the key.” Zach slid the key to her. “Why don’t you head up to the room and I’ll wait here?”
Nodding, Reagan took the keycard and clasped the bakery box to her chest.
Zach shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “Is there a bathroom down here where I can put on some dry clothes?”
“Just over there.” The clerk pointed toward a narrow hallway.
Dry clothes. Reagan shivered. The thought of slipping into a pair of pajamas after a hot shower sounded absolutely divine. But she didn’t have pajamas. Because she didn’t have a suitcase.
As Zach walked past, she cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you have any extra dry clothes in that bag, do you?”
“This bag?” He lifted it up. “Pretty sure I do.”
“Then I don’t suppose you’d want to work out some kind of a trade?” She pushed a sopping wet strand of hair away from her face.
He cocked his head. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
The only thing she had that might tempt him just a little bit was the cupcake box she held in her hands. And Teddy didn’t even like lemon. She’d picked that one out for Cal. “I’ll give you another cupcake in exchange for something I can wear to bed.”
Zach’s mouth tipped up on one side. “I’m not that hungry but I sure could use a place to sleep.”
No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Sitting next to him on a plane or a bus was one thing, but sharing a room? She’d lose it…absolutely lose that tiny shred of control she’d been able to maintain since she set eyes on him if they had to share a room.
“I’ve got to change.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a dry set of clothes I’m eager to get into.”
