After half an hour, I was about to give up on the pretense that I was actually going to eat dinner. The waiter had stopped by to let me know that the airport had put up cots at the far end of the terminal to accommodate the people trapped here overnight, and I figured that maybe just closing my eyes would be the best way to end my crappy Christmas Eve. I reached into my purse for a tip just as my phone jangled to life, playing We Wish You a Merry Christmas. I reminded myself to reset the ringer. Christmas seemed less magical than usual this year.
The number calling wasn’t one I recognized, and it was a local number. I’m not in the mood for the unexpected, I told myself, silencing the ringer and sending the call to voicemail. I rose and left the restaurant, nodding to the waiter and turning toward the small field of cots being erected at the end of the long terminal, my heart low. I rolled my bag into a bathroom.
I might as well take out my contacts and wash my face, I decided. Maybe I can at least get a few hours sleep. Though the idea of snoozing, surrounded by fifty perfect strangers all snoring in rhythm wasn’t attractive, or soothing, in the least.
As I set my purse on the counter in the bathroom, my phone vibrated again, the same number showing. Blowing out a huff of frustration, I pulled the phone to my ear. I’d had just about all I could take, and this telemarketer calling me on Christmas Eve was about to get an earful.
“What?” I answered.
“That’s an interesting greeting.” A deep Irish brogue rolled through the phone, sending my insides tingling.
“Brogan.” I said his name on a sigh, and realized that I was relieved to hear from him. Part of my current mood was created out of worry for him. “Are you in the air?”
“No.” Brogan sounded like he was smiling, and it made my heart feel lighter. I leaned against the sink and listened to his warm voice. “My father can’t control the weather after all, as it turns out. All the money in the world couldn’t bring that plane to land here in this storm. The pilot came to his senses and turned around.”
Relief surged through me. I wasn’t sure if it was because that meant that Brogan was safe, or because it meant he was still here, nearby. “Where are you, then?”
“Heading back to the restaurant. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too late to taste the Prosecco we ordered.” He paused, his voice lowering. “Or did you drink it all?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Brogan’s voice was playful, and something about him made me feel free and silly, even just over the phone. “No, I didn’t drink it all. But I just left the restaurant. I don’t know if it’ll still be there!”
“I’m almost there. I’ll see if I can sweet talk the waiter. I’m quite charming, you know.”
“I know.”
“Will you come back? I’m really sorry for taking off before.”
“I’m on my way. See you in a minute.” I hung up and dabbed at my face with some powder, putting a light pink lipstick on my lips. My nerves were jangling and I wondered how many more highs and lows I could take in one night. With a deep breath, I pulled my bag behind me, back out of the bathroom and toward the restaurant once more.
Brogan stood just outside the entrance, watching me approach with a wide grin on his face. He threw his arms out as I neared, and I found myself practically running into them. Brogan hugged me, picking me up off my feet as he pressed my body into his and spun me around before putting me gently back on my feet like lovers who were reuniting after months apart. His arms stayed around my waist. “I’m happy to see you again, Dixie. I’m so sorry for the interruption.”
“I’m sorry your flight didn’t work out.”
“You are?” Brogan squinted down at me, his grin diminishing.
I shook my head and looked up at him. “Not really. Not at all.”
My voice had become a whisper, thanks to the fierce look in Brogan’s eyes as my words reached him. The amber glow there intensified and I felt like we stood in a small cloud, utterly alone in the world, amid an atmosphere created by whatever this thing was between us. My skin tingled and my insides danced as Brogan brought his head down closer, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Would it be all right if I kissed you?” Brogan’s voice had turned to gravel, and it sent fire through my veins.
“Please.”
His mouth found mine and our lips met, moving gently. I moved to press myself against him, unable to keep my body from pressing deeper into his arms, feeling the solid warmth of him against me. His arms pulled me in tighter. I opened my mouth to him, and he responded, his tongue teasing the line of my bottom lip, sending shockwaves straight through me and turning my legs to jelly. He flicked at my upper lip with the tip of his tongue, and then shocked me by gently biting my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then releasing it. I surprised us both by moaning softly.
Brogan released my mouth, and pulled his head back to gaze at me. “Shall we go finish that wine?”
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand, and I knew I didn’t need any wine, but I would probably say yes to just about anything after that kiss. I nodded, taking a steadying breath.
Brogan took my bag again and we retook the same table I’d abandoned not long before. The waiter appeared and brought the unfinished bottle back to the table.
“Apologies,” Brogan said, inclining his head to the waiter.
“Not a problem.” The waiter poured us each a glass and retreated.
“I promise not to run off this time,” Brogan said. “Did you open your gift?”
I’d stuffed it into my bag, where I’d put my gift to him. Forgotten! That wasn’t like me. “No, and it’s a good thing, because I totally forgot to give you yours.”
I pulled them both out and put them on the table.
“Good. Because I found a proper tree.”
I smiled as I sipped my wine, and I didn’t bother trying to keep myself from staring at Brogan. He had a way of looking easy in the world, as if he belonged anywhere he decided to kick out those long legs of his and sit. I knew I didn’t have the same ease. I was more tense, more wired. Having a mind that never stopped twisting and turning would do that to a person.
“So you know my whole story. What’s your tale, Dixie?”
I smiled. “You know the most recent part of it. Jilted fiancé and all that.”
“But that doesn’t make you who you are. That’s just what’s happened recently.”
“True. I hope that’s true, at least.”
“What do you do with your days? Your card says ‘corporate fund manager.’” Brogan leaned forward and whispered. “I have no idea what that means.” He grinned.
I laughed. “That’s okay. No one in my family knows what that means either.” I sipped my wine. “Basically, I go around the country and convince the retirement fund managers at big companies to invest in my company’s funds.”
“And why do you do this?”
“Uh, well, investors typically get better returns from investing in diversified funds that include a mix of—"
“No, no. I mean, why do you—Dixie—do this job? Do you enjoy it?”
I smiled. “I do, actually. I like the travel, and I like meeting lots of different people.”
“I’m guessing that most of the folks you meet in this position are stodgy old men who smoke cigars.”
“Many of them are.” I thought about Harris McAvoy, the stodgy old man I’d had dinner with in Montana at the beginning of the week. He’d asked me why a sweet little girl like me wanted to do a man’s job. “But some of them would surprise you. More and more of them are women. And the ones who think I ought to be at home doing laundry are the easiest to sell.”
Brogan laughed, the little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. “Why is that?”
“Because they’re not expecting anything. And they’re too busy focusing on the fact that I’m a woman, and that I’m young, to notice that I’m selling the pants off ‘em.”
“Ha!” Brogan laughed loudly, the sound warming my heart. And other places. “I can see it. No wonder you enjoy it.”
We sipped our wine quietly, looking at each other and glancing around the restaurant, which was nearly empty.
“You ever been stuck in airport like this before?” Brogan asked.
“Nope.”
“Ever been snowed in with anyone as devastatingly handsome as myself?” Brogan winked, a hand over his chest.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, I’m honored to be your first.” We finished the bottle and Brogan leaned forward. “Ready for the next exciting Christmas Eve event?”
I nodded, wondering what he had in mind and telling my body to stop jumping at every possibility that Brogan might touch me again, or better yet—kiss me again.