Layover Read online

  It was harmless enough, she told herself. She was bored, needed a way to pass the time. He was online, so was she. It was only an e-mail, not a marriage proposal.

  The line had gotten much shorter, and she slipped her phone into her bag and took her place in it, mostly so she wouldn’t torture herself by constantly checking to see if he’d replied. The woman behind the desk looked tired and ready to break. Her fingers tapped the keys, her brow furrowed, and when she looked up, Julia could see her visibly bracing herself.

  “I’m sorry, but the Philadelphia airport is still closed to all incoming and outgoing flights. We had another flight scheduled for 8:00 p.m. tonight, but it’s booked solid. You could take a seat on standby, but…” The woman drew in a deep breath. “Well, honestly, I doubt that flight’s going to get out, either. It’s a mess out there.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s okay.” Julia’s smile seemed to surprise the woman and relieve her at the same time. “What about tomorrow?”

  The woman’s fingers flew again. “I can get you on a three-thirty flight, if that’s all right, assuming of course the weather allows it. And we’ll be able to give you a voucher for a room tonight at the Hilton right here at the airport.”

  “And my luggage?”

  More tapping, then a pause. “You won’t have to recheck it. It will go on to Philadelphia as planned.”

  Uh-huh. Julia didn’t quite believe that would go off without a hitch, but she had everything she needed with her, anyway. There was no point in getting upset by any of this. Besides, she’d get a free night in a business-grade hotel, and though she really would rather have made it home to her own bed and sheets and shower, she wasn’t going to make this woman’s life any harder by being a bitch about it.

  “That’s fine.”

  “Really?” The woman’s entire body relaxed as her fingers tapped again. “Just let me get all this information entered.”

  “No problem. Take your time.”

  The woman looked over Julia’s shoulder at the rest of the line, and hurried anyway. She printed out new boarding passes as well as the voucher for the hotel, and gave Julia all the instructions.

  “Thanks,” Julia told her.

  “Thank you” the woman said sincerely. “For being so understanding.”

  Julia shrugged. “Stuff happens. It’s not your fault.”

  With one thing and another, it was almost an hour before she made it from the airport to the hotel, checked in and made it up to her room. She tossed her overnight bag on the bed and unzipped her computer case to pull out her computer. Her phone was great and kept her connected to the world, but for advanced Web surfing Julia preferred the big screen and mouse on her laptop. She opened the lid and powered up, not thinking twice about paying the fee to log on to the hotel’s wireless Internet. She had to be here overnight, she didn’t watch much television and Internet access was more than a luxury, it was a necessity.

  Her e-mail pinged softly with two pieces of junk mail, a couple of forwarded surveys and photos from her sister…and a notification from Connex about a message from Graham.

  Her heart thumped as she dug out her wireless mouse and waited for it to connect to the computer. She relished the anticipation as she clicked the link in the message that took her to the login page at Connex. She positioned the cursor over the message, but didn’t click it right away. His answer would probably be as innocuous as her message had been. She checked the time received, noting it was only moments after she’d sent her message. He’d replied fast, but that didn’t mean anything other than he’d happened to be online.

  S—That’s what you get for living in a place that gets cold instead of here. Still love snow now? G

  She laughed out loud at that even as her heart thumped. Graham was a stereotypical Texan, proud as all get-out of his home state. During the week they’d spent together in Houston they’d traded quips about who had the better state, but she knew she’d never been able to convince him a Keystone could ever be better than a Longhorn. He was still online, according to the blinking notice beneath his user picture, which accompanied his message.

  She opened up her instant message program and saw his name. She typed. No snow. All ice.

  His reply came a moment later. You’re not on your way home yet?

  No. They put me up in the Hilton here at the airport. Can’t get a flight out until three-thirty tomorrow.

  Nothing. Graham’s name went gray. He’d gone offline, she thought, but in the next moment another response came through.

  I can be there in an hour.

  Her heart bungee-jumped and her breath hitched. Her fingers hovered over the keys and she took her hands away to fold them in her lap. She watched the screen, the blinking cursor, the garish, irritating ads surrounding her inbox and her list of messenger friends. He was on the other side of that box, their computers like some sort of Alice in Wonderland pair of looking glasses. The question was, what was on the other side?

  It would be simple enough to say, later, when she’d gone back home and there was no threat of her being able to take him up on the offer, that she’d logged off. That the hotel Internet had been wonky and cut out on her. It would have been easy enough to lie.

  Instead, she told the truth.

  I’ll be ready.

  When her answer appeared in the text message box, Graham let out a low whoop he covered up by coughing into his fist. Not that there was anyone around to hear him, and not that Julia could see his response. He could do nothing to hold back the grin, though, so broad it crinkled his eyes at the corners. He sat back in the chair and spun it slowly in a circle once before getting back to the keyboard.

  Fuck looking too eager. He wasn’t going to play those games. If she thought the speed of his reply meant he was interested in her, she’d be right. And Graham wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by. Not like he had a year ago, or all the months since.

  I’ll meet you in the lobby. He gave her his cell number.

  Hers came through a moment later, and Graham stared at it with another grin so big it almost hurt his cheeks. Now he could call her. All he needed was an excuse.

  Graham pushed away from the computer again. He’d told her an hour. It would take him forty minutes to get to the airport, unless he hit mad traffic. Which meant he had twenty minutes to shower, shave and change.

  Graham looked down at his raggedy sweatpants and ran a hand through his hair until it stood on end. He’d better hurry. He brushed his teeth as he ran the shower, but it was barely hot when he jumped in it. No time to luxuriate in hot water. The clock was ticking.

  He took his time with the shave, though. With his skin still prickled from the cold water, it was going to be hard not to cut himself. He managed, then smoothed aftershave over his face. Ten minutes gone, shit. He was going to be late.

  Clothes were an issue. Graham stared at the shirts, one in each hand, he’d grabbed from the closet. Dress up or down? He went with up, not caring that she might notice he’d made an effort. Hell. He wanted her to notice.

  Dressed, he grabbed his wallet, keys and jacket and took the steps two at a time. He was already backing out of his driveway as he buckled his seat belt. He dialed a minute later, eyes scanning the traffic as he listened to the sound of ringing and waited with his heart in his throat for Julia to answer.

  “Hello?” Her voice was the same, pitched low and without the subtle slow drawl infused in the voices of women around here.

  He’d only known her for five days, but he’d never forgotten her voice. It had been the first thing he’d known about her, before her face. Even before her name. He’d been blind and waiting for someone’s words to lead him, and the next thing he knew, her voice had been telling him where to go. Graham had heard plenty of East Coast women speak. Most of them sounded clipped and harsh to him. Hurried and just this side of snappish. Not Julia. Words didn’t shoot from her lips like bullets. They fell from her mouth like drops of honey. She was a woman who meant what she
said and said what she meant, and her silences could say more than a dozen chattering women ever could.

  “Hi. Julia? It’s me.”

  “Graham. Hi.”

  She hadn’t asked “who?” and he grinned again. “I just wanted to tell you I’m running a little late.”

  “That’s all right. I wanted to freshen up anyway. Why don’t you call me when you get here.”

  “Sure.” He didn’t want to hang up. “I should be there in twenty minutes. I thought we could go to dinner, if that’s all right.”

  “Oh, good. I’m starving.”

  Graham eased onto the highway. “I was thinking about Italian.”

  She liked Italian. He remembered that from before. He remembered lots of things.

  “Sounds great.”

  He heard shuffling and imagined her running a brush through her thick, dark hair or peering close in the mirror to slide on some mascara. His ex had often finished getting ready to go out while she talked on the phone. The ability of women to multitask never ceased to amaze him.

  Traffic had slowed, and Graham muttered a curse. Julia laughed. “Oh, really?”

  “People drive like idiots,” he explained.

  “I’ll still be here,” she said. “Slow down. Be safe. Don’t get a ticket.”

  The murmured warning would have annoyed him from any other woman. Yet when faced with Julia’s dripping-honey voice, her slow and easy command, Graham found himself wanting to do as she said just as he’d instinctively followed her command the first time they’d met.

  “Call me when you’re here,” Julia said and disconnected before he could say more.

  For a year they’d been e-mailing and instant messaging, but none of that compared to listening to her speak. Graham had no doubt none of it would compare to seeing her again, either. He eased into an opening in traffic but didn’t let the speedometer creep up higher than five miles over the limit. He could afford a ticket and would have risked the cost, but he wasn’t going to risk her disappointment.

  He hadn’t yet figured out what it was about her. Flirtations, the road not taken, lost opportunities, chance meetings. He’d had them all before. You couldn’t be a single guy hitting the bar scene with your buddies and not have a few what-ifs along the way. All he knew was the five days they’d spent together had been the most intense he’d ever spent with any woman.

  Even now when he closed his eyes at night, just before he drifted off to sleep, he sometimes heard the low murmur of her whispers, telling him which way to turn and how many steps to take. She’d led him through the maze without a single false step, and Graham had been unable to stop thinking about it ever since. How it felt to put himself in her hands that way, and know she wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

  It wasn’t something he could tell his friends. They were guys who mocked each other without mercy as “pussy-whipped” if any of them bought their girlfriends flowers or chose to stay home instead of going out to drink overpriced beers and watch sports. He never told them he thought a man who didn’t put his woman first was the worst sort of pussy, but not because he was afraid of what they’d say. He just knew they wouldn’t get it, and it wasn’t worth his time to try to explain.

  Julia wasn’t his woman, but Graham intended for that to change. No more hiding behind blasé blog comments trying to play it cool. No more pretending he didn’t think of her every time his hand wandered to his cock, or that her voice didn’t haunt his dreams. They’d stood in a hallway with the promise of potential tying them together, and he’d let her walk away. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Ahead was the turnoff for the airport. He was almost there. He dialed her number. “I’ll be there soon.”

  “All right. Should I still meet you in the lobby?”

  Graham signaled and took the exit. “Yes. Sure.”

  He heard the soft sigh of her breath and pictured her expression. She’d be smiling. Julia had a gorgeous smile.

  “I’m waiting, Graham.”

  “Okay.” He caught sight of his eyes in the rearview. Crinkled again. He couldn’t help the grin.

  Julia’s laugh had always sent a thrill through him. He’d gotten a hundred hard-ons thinking of it over the past year. That and the way she tipped her head back when she laughed, and how smooth the column of her throat was, and how much he’d fantasized about kissing her there…and other places.

  “I’m almost there.” His voice had roughed a little, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Silence followed that, and for an instant Graham wondered if it had been too much. If maybe the entire year he’d spent cursing himself for what an idiot he’d been to let her walk away had been based on nothing more than wishful thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d misread a woman, but then Julia put his fears to rest. The silence became another sigh and another sweet, low laugh that raised the hair on the back of his neck and thickened his cock.

  “Me neither.”

  Other voices filtered into the background. The ding of the elevator. He pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine.

  “I’m really glad you e-mailed me, Julia.”

  The click-clack of heels on a hard surface muted, and more voices swirled around hers. Overhead as he got out of the car, the rumble-roar of a plane taking off echoed in the phone. Graham looked across the lot to the Hilton’s glass front doors.

  “Are you?”

  He locked his doors but kept the phone to his ear as he walked. “Yes. I am.”

  “Why?” she asked, and he had no trouble picturing the sly, sideways glance she’d give him with her smile.

  “Because it’s been a long time.” He didn’t count the steps it took him to reach the building, or how many inches his arm had to reach to yank open the door. He was inside, his eyes already scanning the lobby for her when she answered.

  “It sure has.”

  He didn’t measure the distance between them when he saw her. He only did his best to make it smaller. And then she was there in front of him, her smile the same as he remembered it. Her eyes the same blue, hair a little shorter but the same dark shade.

  Julia looked up at him, her head tipping back as she smiled. Her gaze swept over him, head to foot and back again to his eyes. “Well, hello,” she said, and disconnected the call.

  Nothing about Graham had become unfamiliar. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the tip of his smile, the flex of his jaw and throat when he spoke. All those small details had been burned into her memory and kept fresh viewing the photos on his Connex page.

  His hair had grown, feathering over his ears in tufts the color of a wren’s wings. There was nothing else avian about him. Nothing else so soft. Every line and angle of his face looked as though it had been drawn with a fine brush, the edges sharp and clear, not blended or fuzzy.

  “It’s good to see you.” Graham slid his phone into the pocket of his khakis.

  She expected him to reach for her, even if only in a purely casual social gesture. When he settled for an incongruously impersonal handshake, her heartbeat stuttered at the simple touch of fingertips and the heat of his palm, and she was grateful he hadn’t embraced her. It would have been too much.

  “You, too.”

  Never had there been words so bland yet so fraught with tension. Julia lifted her chin a little but turned her gaze to keep from looking at him full-on. She didn’t want to burn him with her eyes.

  “Are you ready?” Graham looked around the lobby, then back at her. “Hungry?”

  “Yes. I kept thinking I’d grab a snack while I waited, but then they’d announce something else about the flights and I’d hang out to see what it was…” She trailed off with a shrug and put a hand over her stomach. The rumbles and roars inside had only a little to do with hunger, at least the sort that could be satisfied with food.

  “C’mon. I’ll take care of you.” Graham held out his han
d, and she took it.

  He didn’t drop it as he led her across the parking lot to his car, a two-seater Mini Cooper convertible. He opened the door for her and kept hold of her hand to help her inside. The thud of the door as he closed it reverberated in her belly and between her thighs, which Julia pressed together under her skirt.

  She’d showered quickly and changed her clothes, though it meant she’d have nothing clean to wear home tomorrow. It had been more important to look good now, when it mattered who saw her. When it mattered that Graham saw her.

  An entire year vanished as they drove. Graham asked her about the new fish she’d bought for her fish tank, the only pets she allowed herself since she traveled so often. The fact he’d been paying attention sent her pulse racing. So did the way he shifted gears, his big hand engulfing the gearshift. She only had to move her leg half an inch to the left, and his knuckles would brush the fabric of her skirt. The corner he took made the decision for her. Graham glanced at the shifter, then at her, and Julia looked back.

  What had she been so afraid of, anyway? Why had she wasted so much time? They could have been cyberfucking for months, even if they hadn’t done so much as do anything more in person than shake hands.

  She’d been stupid.

  Graham pulled into the lot of a cozy-looking restaurant and turned off the car. For the first time, their conversation died. He turned in his seat to face her, and Julia braved herself to look at him. Why had she thought this would be so difficult?

  “Are you ready?” Graham asked.

  If she touched him, Julia was convinced electricity would arc from her hand to his. It crackled unseen between them. She could smell it, the tangy ozone scent of desire.

  “Absolutely.”

  One word said quite a lot. His smile said more, and all at once she had no more doubts. No fear of rejection, or of making a mistake. The urgency didn’t fade, but it shifted. First dinner and later, then…the rest. The cake. There’d be time for all of it. Graham’s smile told her so.

  Maybe it was her answering smile that had emboldened him, or maybe he’d come to his own realization, but Graham made no pretense that this was anything other than a date. Last year, the setting and their companions had constrained them, but here there was nobody to judge. This wasn’t work.