Sin City Dark (Sin City #3)

CHAPTER 1

Jannie

“Come on, come on!”

Somewhere in the universe, Murphy was laughing his ass off.

Jannie Larssen pressed the card to the keypad for a third time with the same result.

To say that today was proof of Murphy’s Law would be the understatement of the century.

She’d missed her morning flight to Vegas because TSA PreCheck wasn’t printed on her boarding pass.

She had to go through regular security, which, in Orlando, meant interminable lines full of exasperated parents and exhausted, screaming children.

By the time she finally made it through, her flight was closed.

So much for having a brother who owned a jet charter company. Adam rarely had flights to or from Orlando, and when he did, they were always full, so if she wanted to attend this medical convention, Southwest it had to be.

In all the craziness, her luggage hadn’t made it. So, all the clothes she’d packed were still somewhere in the Sunshine State. Thank God she always tucked an extra outfit and undergarments in her carry-on, just in case.

At least her room was ready. Or so she’d thought. But now, standing in the hallway, her suit wrinkled, her hair a mess, and her swollen feet throbbing from being squeezed into prepregnancy pumps, Jannie’s inner toddler was throwing the mother of all tantrums.

It would make sense to go back downstairs, stand in line again, and tell the clerk he’d given her a dud key. But there was a problem with that.

She had to pee.

And bad.

Her prepregnancy self laughed maniacally at the idea of peeing her pants. She should have set aside her pride and slapped on a pair of Depends or at least one of those Poise pads that would contain part of it.

She crossed her legs and fought the urge to use her hand to hold it in.

Oh, God.

She should have stayed home. Damn her determination to keep going as she had before she got knocked up with twins.

From somewhere behind her, she heard the ding of the elevator.

Jannie swallowed hard and willed her bladder muscles to clamp tight.

Her mind chose that moment to recall a visit to a petting zoo when she was little, when a cow started to relieve herself just as her brothers gathered around to pet her.

Hilarity ensued. Though Jannie’s current plight wasn’t funny, remembering the bovine’s calm face as streams of yellow liquid fell to the ground and splashed her brothers’ Nikes struck just the right insanity chord.

She had laughed hysterically then. And for some reason, the same thing happened now as she lowered herself to sit on her carry-on. Thank God it was a sturdy Rimowa that could handle her weight and help keep her bladder from releasing. She ground into it, desperate to prevent the flow.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” she managed to choke out, struggling to bring herself under control. She wiped her eyes, sniffled, and—oh God—snorted.

She swiveled.

Looked up. And blinked.

The man loomed over her, standing just over six feet tall. She should know because she was his height when she wore her favorite four-inch heels. His hair was a sandy shade but looked dark in the dim hallway lighting.

He looked at her with amusement. “What do we have here? You’re locked out?”

Jannie nodded. Stared.

She drew her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.

“What are you doing here, Blake?” she asked her ex-husband.