Chapter 1
Brielle St. James’ perfect schedule for her holiday travel had been yanked away when her boss demanded she stay until the reports were completed, printed in triplicate, and delivered to her desk.
The very same reports she could work on anywhere, as they were in a shared folder in their cloud storage and were already integrated into the PowerPoint presentation, which wouldn’t be touched until after the new year.
The mad dash in rush hour traffic increased her anxiety before she even had to squeeze through the crowded entrance of the Northwest International Airport in Washington State.
Warm, pungent air accosted her in sharp contrast to the crisp, frigid storm outside.
She stuffed her hat and scarf into the sleeve of her coat before securing them in her carry-on bag.
Brightly colored decorations and the barely audible, piped-in holiday music did little to quell the nerves of the mass of travelers crowded into the ticketing concourse.
The serpentine queues for checking in overlapped so many times that it was difficult to distinguish where one started and another ended.
She imagined twirling, twisting, and dodging the cavalcade of suitcases in his strong, muscular arms. Her hand would comb through his thick dark curls, his lips would caress her ear as he said—
“Hey, move your ass already! I don’t got all day,” a shrill voice shrieked over the murmur of the bustling crowd.
She blinked, coming back to the chaos of the holiday rush.
Jabbing her information into the monitor of the self-check-in kiosk, she was determined not to acknowledge the derogatory comments of the middle-aged man in a lime green tracksuit, still spewing vitriol while repeatedly bumping his suitcase into her.
The cutesy cartoon characters giving directions on the screen were not being helpful nor expediting her exit.
“Look, she can’t even push the right buttons,” he scoffed to no one in particular. “Is this even your airline?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, taking a step into the man’s space.
“I don’t remember anyone asking your opinion.
Where I am or am not is none of your business.
Now, if your little dick energy isn’t going to magically make this machine work, I’ll ask you to move back before I call security on you for harassment. ”
“You can’t do that. Besides, no one would believe you.
” The arrogant man crossed his arms like he had won the argument until she pointed at the spherical camera on the ceiling.
She turned back to the monitor, leaving him with his mouth gaping like a fish.
He hitched up his pants under his protruding belly.
“Maybe I can help.” Looking toward the low rumble of a voice, she took in the well-defined chest in a tightly stretched navy blue t-shirt.
She scanned higher, finding her fantasy man leaning against the kiosk.
His chestnut curls framed his fair forehead, complementing his aquiline features and deep-set eyes, reminding her of the Italian statue of David.
He was even more handsome up close, but she couldn’t let it derail her at the moment.
“If you’re going to tell me that I don’t know what I’m doing, you can just step away.” She clutched the edges of the monitor, staring at the error message flashing on the screen, outlined in animated garland as if it made it less frustrating.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he answered with a crooked smile.
“These things get glitchy with so many people using them non-stop.” Watching his hands glide across the screen, she felt the stir of longing when his skilled touch brought the printer to life.
Being jealous of a machine caressed by a stranger was definitely a sign that she needed this vacation.
Time with her family after the crazy hours she’d been working would fix everything.
“Are you always so confident?” she asked, taking her boarding pass from his grasp.
“Computers are kinda my thing.”
“Well, thanks for the save. Have a good flight.” Gathering her bags, she headed for the next line, hoping he’d follow.
“See you around London,” he called from behind her.
“Hey, that’s not—” She turned to see him disappearing in the crowd.