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And she saw smiles. People who were pleased to see each other. People who didn’t live their lives waiting for a disaster to happen.
She felt another twinge of envy as she saw a family of three generations embrace. Envy and a hollow feeling of loneliness. She felt as if everyone in the world was connected apart from her.
Maybe if Rosie had been here to meet her, she would have felt differently. Instead Rosie had sent the best man, who no doubt was as excited about the plan as she was. Four hours in a car making conversation with a stranger.
Oh joy.
Why wasn’t Rosie here? Did she really have a dress fitting or was she mad at Katie for expressing doubts about Dan?
But if she’d kept quiet and then Dan made Rosie miserable, how would she have felt?
Maybe this journey was a reprieve. A few hours of rest before she had to try to pull it together in front of her family. Given that Mr. Best Man didn’t know her and was simply doing his duty, he wouldn’t be able to identify that she was more stressed than usual. And who better to question about the groom than the best man? Maybe she could tempt him to spill all the gory details he was thinking of including in his speech.
But before that, she had to actually find the man.
How was she supposed to recognize him? Rosie, presumably distracted by wedding arrangements, hadn’t sent a description. All she’d said was that he would be waiting at arrivals.
There seemed to be a million people waiting at arrivals.
She glanced around to see if anyone was holding a card with her name on it.
Maybe she’d end up spending Christmas in the Denver airport. At least it was more cheerful than the emergency department.
“Katie?” A deep voice came from behind her, and she turned and found herself staring at a broad chest and a pair of powerful shoulders.
Happy Christmas, Katie.
She lifted her gaze past the dark shadow of his jaw to a pair of ice-blue eyes. “Hi.” Her voice emerged as a croak and she cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, hi. Dry throat. I’m probably dehydrated from the flight.”
“That happens. I’m Jordan. Friend of Dan’s, and best man.” He stuck his hand out and she shook it, her fingers enveloped by strength and warmth.
“Katie. Big sister and, apparently, maid of honor.” The words sounded ridiculous to her. He was probably trying to picture her at a wedding. “How did you know who I was?”
“I had a description. Lone female, dark hair, stressed expression.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your sister warned me you’d probably look tired and stressed, so I looked for someone pale who didn’t look pleased to be home for the holidays.”
“I’m not home for the holidays. I’m in Colorado.” Being met by a stranger, who had blue eyes and the shoulders of a fighter. Best man. He was certainly the best-looking man she’d seen in a while. She could hear Vicky’s voice in her head, urging her not to ignore an opportunity like this one.
She ignored imaginary Vicky in the same way she ignored real-life Vicky.
“You don’t seem too pleased about it. Is this all your baggage?” He reached out to take her case and she tightened her grip.
“Thanks, but I can handle my own suitcase.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but it’s a walk to my car, and—”
“It has a handle and wheels, and I have biceps. I’ve got this.” Was he one of those men who thought a woman needed a man to help her through the average day? If so, they were in for a rough week. If he was going to patronize her, she might have to inject him with something.
He studied her and for an unsettling moment she had a feeling he could see right through her. “Are you always this prickly?”
“I’m not prickly.” Cactus Katie. “I don’t need you to carry my case, that’s all. And if that threatens your manhood in some way—”
“My manhood is doing fine, but I appreciate you thinking of it.”
“I wasn’t thinking of it. Did I say I was thinking about it?”
