19. Storm of the Century #2
She gave him a mock salute and headed off to do what he asked. He'd expected an argument, so her immediate compliance surprised him. He wondered if she was as shaken up over their emergency landing as he was. Despite his projected calm, his hands were shaking and it wasn't from the cold.
The crowd behind him was still bemoaning their plight when Noah spotted the van turning into the car park. A small, wiry man decked in rain gear hopped out and made his way to the building. Noah held the door open for him as he approached, the wind blowing water into the lobby.
"Devon?" he asked.
"Aye. You must be Oliver's boy. Ye look just like 'im." The man held out his hand and Noah shook it. A rough, callused hand briefly grasped his before letting go. "Except bigger." Devon, similar in age to his father, laughed at some inside joke.
"I'm Noah and this is my workmate, Claire. Pops said you'd gotten us set up somewhere?" Noah pulled on his coat and grabbed his bags.
"Aye. But ye're not the only ones who called. I got you two into the last room. Let me check in with the mayor and fetch the others, then we'll be on our way. Sit tight."
"Thanks," Noah said as the man strode to the counter occupied by the officials in charge. He replayed the conversation in his head. Something Devon had said wasn't sitting right. His gut churned with an uneasy feeling he'd missed something crucial.
"You got us rooms s-somewhere?" Claire asked.
The stutter caught his attention. She was shivering and her lips were turning blue. He searched the lobby and spotted a staff member passing out the blankets they'd brought in earlier for the passengers.
"Yes. Hang on." He crossed the room, grabbed two, and returned in a few strides.
He draped one around Claire's shoulders. When she fumbled freeing her hair, he gently lifted her silky red curls and let them fall over the blanket. Jenny was right. Claire's hair was seductively soft. He let the strands slide through his fingers, reluctant to let go.
Only then did he realize how cold he was too. The adrenaline must be wearing off. He set down his things and wrapped the second blanket around himself, the chill finally sinking in.
Soon, Devon returned with several more passengers and ushered them into the van with practiced efficiency. The drive was tense—rain lashed the windows and lightning lit up the sky—but Devon's steady stream of local trivia kept everyone calm.
They dropped off the other passengers at the larger hotel before pulling up to a stone house with beautiful woodwork and a welcoming glow in the windows.
"This here's the Leesburgh Guest House," Devon said. "Ye're booked here. Front desk is to yer left. Just give them your names." He unloaded their bags, set them just inside the door, and hurried off to collect more stranded travelers.
Claire looked around, eyes wide. "These people are amazing. Everyone's pitching in to help. It's kind of wonderful."
"Mm." Noah nodded. It didn't surprise him. He'd grown up in places like this—small towns, tight-knit communities. People took care of each other.
"Welcome to Leesburgh Guest House!" A buxom woman with a welcoming smile stood behind a tall antique desk that served as a counter.
"I'm Mrs. Ferguson, the proprietor. We've got everything ready for you.
I just need you to sign in to make it official, then we can get you two situated so you can change your clothes and get warm. How's that sound?"
"Fantastic," Noah replied and moved forward to sign in.
She took his information and credit card, then set several items on the counter: a brochure about the guest house's history, a sight-seeing pamphlet, and a single key.
Noah stared at the key in horror as the niggle in the back of his head came roaring to the front. Devon had said room. Singular. He raised an eyebrow and met Mrs. Ferguson's gaze.
"Well, I don't suppose you'll be needing the tourist information, will you?" She smiled and removed the leaflet from the counter.
Noah swallowed. "Only one key?"
"What?" Claire squeaked behind him.
"Well, yes, but it's a suite with two bedrooms. I have a second key somewhere around here. I'll look for it while you get settled."
Noah peered over his shoulder to gauge Claire's reaction. Her eyes were wide, her expression somewhere between this is a joke and I might actually faint . He turned back to the hostess.
"And you have no other rooms?"
She shook her head. "It's the last one available. We normally reserve it because it's meant for families. One room for mum and dad and one room for the bairns. Since this is an emergency, we're renting it out."
A string of curse words filled his head, and for a fleeting second, he fought the childish urge to stomp his feet like the aforementioned bairns.
Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile and tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped.
As if being stranded in the middle of nowhere wasn't enough, now he got to share a suite with the one person he'd been trying very hard not to think about too much.
"That's very kind of you and we appreciate it," he said, voice steady despite the chaos in his head. "Which way is it?"
They managed to get their luggage up the narrow stairway. He'd traded with Claire since her bag was bigger. And because his mum would have slapped the back of his head for not offering.
"Ready?" he asked. Claire's silence since the sharing-a-room bomb dropped was deafening.
She took a deep breath, released it, and answered, "Yes. Let's do it."
He unlocked the door, and they walked into a small sitting room.
Warmth radiated from the fire burning in the fireplace.
The room held a settee, two chairs, and a petite writing desk.
Two doors to either side led to the bedrooms and the third door on the back wall appeared to be the toilet.
They checked out the bedrooms and Noah cringed at the smaller room.
There was no way he'd fit on either of those tiny beds.
"I'm taking the other one because I'm bigger than you. You'll fit okay in a twin bed," he said. He expected pushback from the woman who questioned everything and waited for her response. Instead, she laughed.
"You say that like you expect an argument. Let's get our stuff settled and out of these wet clothes."
Claire exhaled in relief as she unzipped her suitcase.
Her weatherproof luggage had held up against the torrential downpour like a champ.
Lucinda had questioned the price when she'd bought it, but right now, it felt like the best investment she'd ever made.
Money well spent, her dad would say. She peeled off her damp clothes, shivering slightly, and rummaged through the neatly packed layers for a soft sweater and warm leggings.
Her room—small and tightly packed with two twin beds and a wardrobe—wasn't exactly spacious, but it was hers alone.
After the chaos of the morning, she was enormously grateful for a door she could close and a little privacy to breathe.
She tossed her toiletry bag onto the second bed, then hung a few wrinkle-prone outfits in the antique-looking cabinet.
They'd likely only be here a day, but she still wanted to look her best when they arrived in Norway.
After tucking her suitcase into the bottom of the wardrobe, she gathered her things and stepped out into the sitting room.
She could hear Noah moving around in the other bedroom. She smirked at his attempt to trump her on the queen-sized bed. Like she would have claimed the bigger bed when he was clearly too large for the smaller ones. Men are silly, she decided.
She stopped in the doorway to the bathroom.
She'd expected it to be tiny and cramped.
And while the room was small, it was big enough to hold an antique clawfoot tub sitting in the corner.
Images of soaking in a hot bubble bath filled her mind.
She tossed her wet clothes over the glass encasement of the stand-up shower and moved closer to the tub.
Claire clapped her hands in delight. On the nearby shelf sat bubble bath, body oils, and all kinds of luxury items just perfect for a girl stranded in a rainy town with nowhere to go.
She intended to make use of those amenities before they left.
As she turned back to the sink area, the shaving kit on the counter jumped out at her. Her stomach dropped. She'd been ignoring the close proximity problem, but there it was, undeniable and monogrammed. She was sharing bathroom space—essentially living with—Noah Raines.
A shiver ran down her spine. Lord have mercy, her grandmother would've fainted on the spot.
Claire ran her hand through her hair. These were extenuating circumstances , she reminded herself.
Emergency landings. Limited accommodations.
Still, the idea of cohabiting—even temporarily—with a male coworker would've raised more than a few eyebrows back home.
She placed her toiletry bag on the counter next to his, trying not to think too hard about it.
To her surprise, she wasn't as freaked out as she expected.
Maybe she'd finally worked through her aversion to close quarters with male colleagues.
Or maybe , whispered a voice in her head sounding suspiciously like Lucinda, it was just Noah she didn't mind getting close to.
"Claire?" Noah's voice pulled her from her thoughts and into the front room.
He stood by the fireplace, phone in hand, the firelight casting a warm glow over his frame.
He'd changed too, and she couldn't help noticing his lean, athletic build.
The kind of body that looked more at home on a soccer field than in a gym.
Stop it , she scolded herself. This trip was stressful enough without letting her ridiculous work crush make things worse.
"She's here now, Simon. Go ahead."
Claire snapped to attention. Simon asked after her well-being and she was touched at the concern he showed. The call ended with Noah promising further updates as they learned more.
"How's your room?" she asked as she moved beside him to absorb the fire's heat. She took in their temporary quarters. Although small, it included plenty of seating. And near the desk, the wall sported multiple electrical outlets and even a network port. Everything they needed to feel at home.
"It'll do. Yours?" He rotated and held his hands out to the fire.
"Same. My suitcase stayed dry. That's a bonus.
So, um… I have a confession," she said, flinching as a loud crack of thunder shook the building.
At his raised eyebrows, she continued, "I didn't understand a word the hostess lady said.
Her brogue is really thick. Can you translate for me what's going on? "
He froze for a second, then ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I didn't even think of that. Let's see.
They're booked up. This was the only room.
It's usually reserved for families. Oh, her name is Mrs. Ferguson, and she's the owner.
I think that's everything." He caught her gaze.
"I'm glad you told me you had trouble understanding the Scots.
Did you catch everything said at the base? "
Claire nodded. "I think so. We're stranded until they can get the part?"
"Yes. I'll try to remember to translate for you."
"Okay, thanks." The knot in her stomach eased a bit.
When the woman downstairs had spoken earlier, Claire had panicked.
Not only was she in a foreign country in a stressful situation, but she couldn't understand the language everyone around her was speaking.
Their driver from earlier sported an accent, but Mrs. Ferguson's was far more pronounced. "What now?"
"I've already let my family know what's happened and that we're safe. You should call your people." Noah moved to sit on the small sofa facing the fireplace. He'd kicked off his shoes and sat in just his socks, looking completely at ease.
Claire blinked. It was such a small thing, but something about seeing him that relaxed—shoeless and settled in—felt oddly personal. Maybe it was just her Southern upbringing, but it caught her off guard. She shook the thought away and tried to focus on what he'd said.
"Um, my phone doesn't have an international calling plan. Any chance I can use yours?"
He stared at her. "Why don't you have a company phone?
You're going to be traveling. They should have given you one.
" He waved his hand, dismissing the thought, and pulled his phone from his front pocket.
"Here, feel free." He typed in the unlock code and handed it to her.
"And when we get back, you need to ask Simon for a phone. That was an oversight."
She took the phone from him. "Thank you. I will. I'll be just a minute."
"Yep. And when you're done, let's go get the latest weather updates and see if we can find something to eat. I'm starving."