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Already here, hot stuff.
See you soon, he wrote, and Cara hearted the reply.
He was grinning. Were people looking at him weird? No, they were getting their bags out of the overhead compartments, not analyzing his facial expressions.
Roman stood and grabbed his carry-on, then headed off the plane. The airport pickup zones outside the LA airport were snarled with traffic, like usual, and he texted Cara to tell her where he was standing. He looked for the white car she’d told him she had.
When he saw her—or the car he thought was hers—he moved to the edge of the curb. His heart soared as she climbed out of the car and waved. Her blonde hair was down around her shoulders and blew in the warm breeze.
She wore a pale green flowered dress with a jacket and . . . cowboy boots.
He was grinning again.
“How was the flight?” she asked, opening the trunk of the car as he approached.
“Boring.”
She lifted her gaze, her blue eyes filled with humor. “Didn’t you bring a book? Mia has plenty to lend you.”
“She’s already mad at me for leaving her behind. I wouldn’t dare risk borrowing a book that I could possibly lose.”
“Ah, good call, then.” Cara smirked, and Roman wanted to kiss those dusty-pink lips of hers.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her toward him.
She stepped into his arms and looped hers about his neck.
He pulled her into a hug. “I missed you,” he murmured against her hair.
She tightened her hold. “I missed you, too. Glad you’re here safe and sound.”
He could stand like this all day, holding this woman close as the wind blew around them, and her hair tickled his cheek. “You smell like cinnamon again.”
“I found another bottle at the airport.”
Roman laughed and tightened his hold. “Seasoned with Love?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Love it. But I think we’re about to get kicked from the curb if that person in the orange vest has any say about it.”
Cara drew away enough to look over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah. We should go.”
“I guess I’ll just kiss you later.”
Her blush only made him want to steal a kiss right now, but he didn’t want to make it short. And there were cars waiting to take their spot.
Cara stepped out of his embrace and shut the trunk door, then got in the car. “Get in, hot stuff.”
“That nickname’s growing on me,” Roman said, sliding into the passenger seat.
Cara laughed as she turned on the blinker and merged into the moving traffic.
For the first time in days, he felt like he could relax. He still had a lot of pending challenges, and things weren’t wholly defined with Cara, but being next to her, crawling through LA traffic, was somehow calming.
“So how has your morning been?” Roman asked.
She glanced over at him. “Better now,” she said, then reverted her gaze to keep up with traffic. “I keep second-guessing everything, even though I’m trying not to.”
