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She rolled her eyes. “For approximately twelve seconds.”

Dean snorted. “What happened after twelve seconds?”

“Victor told her they could order pizza.”

Dean wasn’t surprised by that. At the first sign of distress in his niece, Victor went into overdrive, offering the kid the moon if it would ward off her tears. While Victor was a beast on the ice, that gruff exterior melted completely away, leaving nothing but a giant marshmallow, when it came to Pip, and now Belle.

“Ouch,” he replied with a grin.

“Yep. It’s a tough pill to swallow when you learn exactly where you rank in your kid’s life. I was edged out by pepperoni.”

He nodded solemnly, feigning a seriousness he didn’t feel. “In all fairness, that’s tough competition. I’d kill for a pepperoni pizza right now. It’s been a long time since breakfast.”

“It really has.” There were faint shadows beneath her eyes that showed just how exhausted she was. Yet she still managed to seem fully present and focused on their conversation and everything happening around them.

He’d noticed that same attribute in her when she was eighteen. She had been mature beyond her years. Even as a teen, Vivian had her shit together, while he—in his early thirties at the time—had been a floundering mess.

His phone buzzed, so he pulled it out of his pocket.

Got you the last room at the Harbor Crest Hotel. Shuttle overwhelmed. Ride-share if you can. Still working on flight rebooking.

Relief loosened something in his chest and he looked up.

“Good news?” she asked.

“I got a room. Apparently the last one at the Harbor Crest.”

She smiled, but disappointment flashed across her face before she hid it. “You’re lucky. I checked with eight hotels but they were all booked, so I was just about to buy an overpriced blanket at an airport shop and find a corner.”

Dean frowned. “You’re going to sleep here?”

“I don’t see any alternative. I overheard someone saying that with so many canceled flights, all the hotels are at capacity.”

He looked at her, then at the overflowing terminal. Victor would kick his ass into the next century if he let Vivian sleep in the airport while he was cozy in a hotel.

Although…

Suddenly, he was left trying to figure out which would piss Victor off more. Dean leaving her to her own devices in the airport…or the two of them sharing a hotel room.

Then he decided it wasn’t Victor’s feelings about this situation that mattered. It was his. Because there was no way in hell he was leaving Vivian here alone.

“If we’re lucky, I might have two beds.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And if we’re not?”

“I’ll ask for a rollaway,” he replied. Vivian didn’t seem to understand. He wasn’t leaving her here alone, no matter what.

She crossed her arms. “And if they don’t have one?”

“I’ll take the couch,” he retorted smoothly.

She gave him a mischievous smile, and he realized she was pulling his leg.

“You’re assuming there will be a couch,” she said. “Not all hotel rooms have one.”

“Then I’ll sleep in the desk chair or on the floor,” he persisted.

Vivian shook her head, her smile fading, her exhaustion suddenly more prevalent. “Dean, you really don’t have to⁠—”