Chapter 15
The airport is a ghost town, but I’d prefer this to the alternative.
My flight isn’t due to take off for another five hours, but when it started spitting snow in Holiday Harbor, I panicked that the roads would be a mess if I waited until the afternoon to leave.
I guess I forgot to take into consideration that this airport is tiny, and there’s only one restaurant, a small shop, and a place to get snacks and coffee.
Self-serve coffee … ew.
I may go through multiple packs of Toaster Strudels a week and love Coke, but when it comes to coffee, hell yes, I am a snob. I want the steamed milk. I want the cold foam. And I even want the sprinkled cinnamon on top. Give me it all.
I look out one of the large windows and cringe as I watch the heavy snow blowing around the runway. As the night goes on, the wind is supposed to pick up, and the snow is going to get heavier.
All day, I hoped that my plane would take off before the worst weather hit.
Now, I’m worried about two scenarios happening.
One, the runway is snowy and windy, and our plane either skids right off it during takeoff or gets blown over, and of course …
I die. Or two, they cancel my flight, and I’m forced to stay in Maine even longer than I already have.
My phone vibrates, and when I pull it out, my eyes bug out of my head when I read the message from the airline that my flight is being delayed.
Until December freaking 27.
That means, for three more nights, I’m stuck in Maine. Unless I can find another airline provider, but it’s not like I want to put more money into a flight that may not happen. After all, the cost didn’t come out of Ironbound’s pocket, but my own.
Victor has no idea I’m coming back to The Big Apple empty-handed because I haven’t told him that I’m heading back yet. I figured I’d show up and pull out all the amazing properties I’d found that he could buy up, salvaging my job. Sounds so much better than doing it over the phone.
Or it did, before I got stuck here.
I look up at the few people scattered throughout the airport, all looking at their phones with sad expressions on their faces. It’s Christmas Eve, and I am sure that, unlike me, they all have loved ones they want to get home to.
I have a few good friends who will wish me merry Christmas, but aside from that, I’m on my own.
As I see a couple heading toward the exit, it hits me. I need to book a hotel. And fast. After all, how many could there possibly be?
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say, caught somewhere between being angry and panicking as I look at every single hotel listing, saying they have no availability until the day after Christmas.
Tossing my phone in the seat beside me, I drag my hand down my face.
The roads are undoubtedly awful. There are no hotels to stay in nearby. And there’s no way I can sleep in one of these uncomfortable chairs in this airport.
Glancing at my phone, I sigh. There’s only one person I know who I can call and he’ll come get me right now and not make me feel bad.
The same guy who gave me his number yesterday in case I needed a ride to pick my car up.
Fortunately for Riley, he didn’t have to because the mechanic was nice enough to deliver it right to my rental house.
Perks of him thinking I was friends with Riley, I suppose.
Snatching my phone, I hit the name on my screen and bring it to my ear while I wait for him to answer.
Riley … the man who is going to be my hero again.
This feeling that’s flowing through my body, making me irritated as fuck, is foreign. At least, it was until Stella Stewart landed in Holiday Harbor and turned me into this guy.
The kind of guy who wants to punch his own brother on Christmas Eve while we’re supposed to be hanging out, playing cards with our parents, because even though she said nothing had happened between them, I know he had wanted something to happen. Why else was he at her fucking house?
“I don’t get it. Why did she call you?” I say, following Riley down the hallway. “She has my number too.”
“I don’t know, dickface. All that matters is she called someone.” He pauses. “Or maybe she has the hots for me. Who knows?”
I shoot him an icy glare. “No, she doesn’t.”
And as he starts to pull his jacket on, I do the same, and my mom throws her arms up, coming to the mudroom.
“Where are you going? It’s a mess out there!” she yells. “I hope you don’t plan on driving anywhere. I swore I heard you say the airport, but I must have heard you wrong, Riley, because I didn’t raise a complete idiot.”
After pulling his shoes on, he leans forward and kisses our mom on the cheek. “I have to go get a friend who is stranded at the airport, Mom. I’ll be careful.”
“Like hell you are! There have been multiple accidents already, and it’s only going to get worse.” She looks at me. “Tell him, Ridge.”
“Can’t,” I say quickly. “Because I’m going too.”
“What in the hell is wrong with you two?” Then she roars at my dad, who is, no doubt, still in his recliner, “Honey! Tell the boys to stop being stupid!”
“Stop being stupid,” Dad calls back, too lost in his show to know why we’re being stupid.
As Tucker steps into view, she throws her arms up toward him. “Don’t tell me you’re going too, Tuck. You’re my smart one.”
“Going where?” he says, confused.
Suddenly, Easton appears beside him. “I overheard Riley in the kitchen. He’s going to go pick up that hot property girl at the airport.” In true Easton form—as he’s also known as the shit stirrer—he smirks. “Though I don’t know why Ridge is going. Think he’s got the hots for her.”
“I don’t have the hots for her,” I say quickly. “I hate her.”
“That’s what they all say,” Easton teases, grinning stupidly at us.
Throwing my arm around my mom, I give her a half hug.
“I’m sorry. We’ll be safe though.” I glance at Riley, narrowing my eyes. “I’m driving, so that should make everyone feel better.”
His mouth hangs open. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Releasing my mom, I step forward and pull the door open and ignore him.
“Let’s go,” I mumble, not knowing why I’m so hell-bent on going.
Why does the thought of her sitting in that airport, all alone during a storm, make me feel like shit?
Why can’t I just let my little brother be her hero?
And the biggest question of all: Why do I have to step in?
Who fucking knows?
Riley is quiet in the passenger seat, just like he has been the entire ride. We should have been at the airport twenty-five minutes ago, but because of the terrible road conditions and low visibility, we’re not there yet.
He’s played on his phone, but Riley isn’t usually the type to be quiet, so I know something is wrong. And because I’m the asshole that I am, I can’t bring myself to just ask him what it is. But I’m not stupid. I know it has to do with Stella and me demanding to drive to get her.
“Can you just say whatever it is you need to and get it out now?” I finally blurt out. “The whole silent treatment is annoying me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says in a less than convincing tone.
But I know Riley, and he isn’t going to stop at that. He’ll spill his guts. That’s how he is.
“Why would it bother me that my control-freak big brother had to invite himself to come with me to pick up the girl I like, but also … didn’t even trust me to fucking drive?”
His words hurt to hear because he just admitted he likes her. I like her too. But unlike my little brother, I’m too much of a stubborn prick to just admit it out loud.
“I’ve had my license for four years longer than you have, Ry. I just thought it would be better if I drove.”
The truck slides a little on the snowy roads, but I straighten it out.
My knuckles are fucking white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and once I have two passengers in here, I’ll no doubt be more stressed than I already am.
I’m not worried about me losing control of my truck; I’m worried about someone else on the roads doing that and hitting us.
When the conditions are this terrible, I suppose one good thing is, there’s really no way for anyone to be driving fast. So, even if they did hit us, it would be low impact.
“Why were you so hell-bent on coming tonight?” Riley asks the question, and I don’t even know how to answer it.
Stella is a city girl. I’m a fisherman who only leaves Maine in the winter for a month or so. I like the quiet of my town while she thrives in the city that never sleeps. Even if I do like her, what would be the point of telling anyone? It would never work.
“I just …” I pause. “I didn’t want you on the road alone, I guess.”
He’s silent for a moment, but with his next words, I can almost hear his smirk. “That would be nice and all, if only it were true.” He sighs. “You like her too, huh?”
I chew my cheek awkwardly. Riley loves women. He loves flirting with them, loves dating them, and even though he’s had a lot of relationships, he’s that guy who somehow always ends things on good terms. Because how the fuck do you get mad at a guy like Ry?
Me? I used to sleep around a bit. I’ve had a few short-term girlfriends, but I can never stand anyone to stick around too long.
And I’ve never been the jealous kind.
Until now.
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I can’t stand her most of the time. But every now and then …” I stop, feeling like a pathetic loser for what I’m even saying. “Not to mention, she came here to try to buy up our land. That land means everything to me.”
“It does to all of us.” Riley says the words like a statement. “Wait … the night you gave her a ride home, did you …”
“Not that night,” I say, hoping he’ll connect the dots and back the fuck off her once he realizes that I’ve been with her.
I made her scream out my name; she’ll never scream out his that way.
I fucking hope anyway.
“So, you’ve already been with her,” Riley mutters, and I might not be able to look at him, but I’m sure he’s hanging his head.
“I wish I had known that before I brought myself on this long-ass ride to the airport. Because if your dick has been near her, there’s no fucking way I’m interested. I’m not Jeremiah.”
“Jeremiah?” I ask. “Who the hell is that?”
“It’s a show I watch. Too complex for you.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, you’re Conrad. But still … no way in hell am I Jeremiah. I consider myself more of a Steven really.”
Riley has always loved a lot of the same shows our mom does, and he also loves pop music.
He once went to a Taylor Swift concert and raved about it to other fishermen over the radio for days.
So, hard to say what this show is that he’s talking about.
All I know is, I’m not sure what my being Conrad means, but I have a feeling he’s a dick.
And the closer we get to the airport, the more I keep thinking how I shouldn’t have even come. I don’t know what I’m expecting to gain here, and yet … here I am.
When Riley texts me that he’s here, I’m not surprised at all when he walks through the airport doors.
What is surprising—no, actually, what sends me into full-on shock mode is when Ridge walks in behind him.
His eyes instantly find mine, and my stomach does that stupid thing it always does when he’s close by.
Despite the fact that he’s a dick, he still gives a girl butterflies like no other.
Trudging toward them, I wheel my bag behind me.
“I’m so sorry that I had to make you come all the way here.
I’m sure it was an awful ride. Thank you so much,” I say, stopping in front of Riley and giving him a hug.
“But I had returned my rental car, and there’s literally no motels nearby to stay at, so my only option is to go back to the rental house. ”
“Don’t even worry about it.” Riley smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes that I don’t understand.
When I release him, I find Ridge’s stare on me, and his blue eyes are swirling with anger. I suppose I should hug him, too, but I’m not going to do that. Hell no. With Riley, it’s a friendly hug. If I hug Ridge, I’ll end up dry-humping him.
Ridge steps around his brother and takes the suitcase from me.
In true mysterious Ridge Adams form, he jerks his chin toward the door. “We should go. It’s only going to get worse out there.”
And as he starts toward the exit with Riley and me following close behind, I exhale.
All I know is, I came here, trying to make a big move that would make my boss and coworkers notice me and give me some credit, but now, I’m going rogue, no longer giving a shit about closing this deal and also spending an inappropriate amount of time with the people who are supposed to be our potential sellers.
I dare to say, I’ve completely sunk my career. Or at least my career at Ironbound.