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Prologue
Hadley
I can’t even be sad to be stuck here for the night. Nothing good waits for me at home so if sleeping in an airport hotel for the night means delaying the inevitable, well, I’m okay with that. More than okay, actually.
After getting checked into my room, I take a quick shower to get the airport smell off me and venture to the hotel restaurant to grab a bite to eat and maybe a glass of wine but what I find is complete chaos. The tables are full of travelers, some of which I recognize from the airport who were more upset than I was that our flight was cancelled because of the blizzard blanketing New York.
There’s no hostess standing at the entrance, but it looks like that’s possibly because of how busy it is in here.
I’m scanning my options when I spot the guy who was standing at another counter in the terminal after being told that we weren’t going to be boarding our flight. There’s a reason I recognize him. Our eyes locked for five seconds. I counted. I was spellbound by how incredibly good looking he is. So unlike the men I’m used to. He’s sitting alone at a two-seat table and I weigh my options. Go back to my room and starve or summon up some courage and see if he’ll offer me a seat. I pray he’s single and not waiting for his girlfriend to join him. Weaving through the tables to get to him, I knock on the table then inwardly roll my eyes at how lame I am. He raises his head and looks at me, recognition flits through his expressive dark eyes and he greets me with a bright white smile.
“Hey! What are you doing here?”
I give him aduhlook and he chuckles.
“Right. Delayed until tomorrow, too?”
I nod and twist my lips, as if it’s some burden. “Yup.”
He looks around the room and pushes the other chair away from the table with his foot. “Want to join me?”
“You don’t mind? Sorry but it’s swamped in here.”
“Not at all. Wouldn’t’ve asked otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
I take a seat and fold my hands on the table, suddenly a little nervous.
“I just realized we never introduced ourselves,” he says awkwardly. We never even said hello to each other across the crowded terminal of irritated travelers, so introductions weren’t an option. “I’m Cash. Tennessee.”
Smiling, I reach my hand over the table and shake his hand, a tingle going through my hand when his hand grips mine. “Hadley. Chicago area.”
A waitress rushes over, clearly flustered. Her hair’s a mess and regardless of the bitter temperatures outside, I can tell she’s been wiping away sweat.
“I’m so sorry for the wait. Would you like something to drink?”
Cash gestures at me to go first.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine and a water, too, please.”
“Sure thing. Can I see your ID?”
I nod, pulling out my wallet and handing over my ID. I turned twenty-one six months ago so her asking isn’t all that much of a surprise.
She smiles and hands it back.
“I love your name.”
“Thank you,” I say bashfully. “It’s an old family name,” I add, even though it’s not necessary.
“And for you?”
“Miller Lite – bottle if you have it – and a water.”
She winces. “I need to see yours, too.”
“No problem.”
