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“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Judging by what they’re showing on the radar, it’s going to be several hours.”
“Is it bad?” I ask anxiously.
“It’s a big storm, Stella, but it’s going to be okay. First, let’s find a hotel in case it comes to that point. I’d rather not be trying to find one once the storm gets worse.”
He calls his assistant, explaining the situation to her and talking through hotel options. “What do you mean there aren’t any rooms?” I look over at him. “A what convention?” He rubs his temples. “No, it’s fine, it’s fine, Florence. Thank you. We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” He hangs up and looks over at me.
“There are no rooms. Apparently, there’s some huge beef convention in town.”
“I saw a motel down the interstate, boss; I could drive down and see what they have,” Mac says.
He hesitates. “Okay.” Fifteen minutes later, Mac’s calling him. “They do? Great, yeah, that works just fine. Thanks, Mac.”
“They have rooms?”
“A room.” He stands up and walks over to his flight crew. I can’t hear what they’re saying but he nods and shakes a few hands before walking back over to me. “The flight crew and Mac will stay on the plane since there seems to be no rooms for them. You and I will stay at the motel.”
Rain pelts the SUV as Mac drives us to the motel, the windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the torrential downpour. There’s no awning to pull beneath when we reach the motel so even in the short distance of running from the SUV to the room, we’re practically soaked.
“Ugh.” I wring out my hair, glancing around the room. It’s clean but it’s old and very clearly in need of some major updates. Thunder claps loudly, rattling the giant glass window in the front of the room.
“Not as nice as the Maldives,” Atlas says, touching the plastic-covered chair that sits by a small table in the corner. I burst into laughter, making him smile.
“I’ve never been to Kansas before.” I kick off my shoes and wet socks, sitting on the squeaky bed. “Any suggestions for fun activities?”
“During a possible tornado?” He unbuttons his shirt, walking over to a small cabinet in the corner. He opens it, revealing a makeshift mini bar full of different shooters. “Get drunk in our hotel room?”
I hold my nose and tilt my head back, the burn of the Fireball making me scrunch my face up. “Gah!” It sizzles in my nose. “That is the worst!”
“Nah.” Atlas shakes his head and looks over at me from where he’s lying on his back on the bed. “The Ninety-Nine Bananas was worse.”
I toss the bottle into the wastebasket to join the four others we’ve already had. “Okay, I’m ready.” I sit in the chair we’ve designated as the contestant’s seat. I open my mouth and place my hands on the armrests. Atlas sits up, grabbing a Junior Mint from the box we bought in the front office at the motel earlier.
He closes one eye. “Don’t move,” he says before launching the candy perfectly into my mouth.
“Perfect aim every time.” I laugh, chewing the candy and swallowing it. We’ve managed to make a small picnic with mixed nuts, chips, and candy that we bought from the vending machine and entertained ourselves so far with games and small talk. I flop back on the bed next to Atlas, both of us staring up at the ceiling as the wind whips around the building violently. The reporter on The Weather Channel, in between bouts of lost power, assured us earlier that the tornado that was spotted has since downgraded to a wind shear, but power lines were down and flights were still grounded.
“Now what?” he says, looking over at me, his hair hanging down over his eye.
“Another shot?”
“Mmm,” he groans, closing his eyes. “I’d rather take a nap.”
“Then take a nap.” I roll onto my stomach and for some reason I reach my hand out and rest it on his chest. He reaches up almost instantly, wrapping his hand around mine. I watch as he runs his thumb over my skin, his eyes still closed. I look at his full lips, the little curve running from his lip to his chin begging to be kissed.
“Don’t do it,” he says without opening his eyes. My eyes dart to his.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Mm-hmm. I know you, Mrs. Knight,” he says with a little smirk on his face.
I decide to test the waters, his flirty demeanor egging me on. I start to slide my hand down from his chest to his belly. He chuckles so I move it a little farther down till I reach his belt buckle. This time he grips my hand, stilling my movements.
“You really are a naughty young woman.” He turns his head to look at me. “And you really don’t like obeying the rules, do you?”
“How come you get to break them, but I don’t?”
