Читать книгу Taken by Storm - HEATHER MACALLISTER, Heather Macallister - Страница 11

3

SHE HADN’T EVEN asked his name. Zoey had left Casper, Ryka’s great white hope, with a man she knew nothing about. Except that he had a way of staring at her as though she was an ice cream cone and he wanted to lick her all over. She melted at the idea.

He sure was a hottie but a little intense. And she trusted him based on that? Desperate times and so on.

Zoey leaned against the cold tile walls as the restroom line inched forward. The longer the delay in Chicago, the greater the chance for failure.

Stop thinking that way. She hadn’t veered from Kate’s plan. This was just a pause. But if the “pause” went on for much longer, she’d have to call her sister. And she really didn’t want to do that.

Finger-combing her hair at the mirrors before leaving the restroom, Zoey noticed a whole lot of dehydrated skin on the faces of the other women. Drink water, she wanted to tell them. Or maybe offer them some of her Skin Garden Rain balm. But she didn’t, not with those grumpy expressions.

Speaking of water, Zoey swallowed a long drink from the fountain before heading back to the pet area. The line at the restroom had moved slower than she’d anticipated, and she felt uneasy that she’d abandoned Casper for so long. Zoey hadn’t even asked the man if he had time to watch Casper before thrusting the leash at him. Obviously, he didn’t have a flight to catch, but maybe he had some place to be or someone to be with. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere outside the airport. She shuddered at the memory of the snow and the wind that had made her cheeks sting even though she’d slathered them with her lemon-olive moisturizing bar. It was the heaviest of her heavy-duty moisturizers, and it was travel friendly because it was a solid. It was a good thing she was testing her products on this trip because she’d discovered the bar was an awkward size and had melted into the container. That would have to be changed.

Zoey rounded the corner, eyes searching out man and dog. She found Casper, undressed, splayed bonelessly on the floor, getting a tummy rub.

Zoey had never seen the neurotic animal so relaxed. The man’s hands moved over the pink belly with long, slow strokes, stopping occasionally to rub some spot with his thumbs. Very thorough. Great attention to detail. Knew to take it slow. Zoey sighed.

He also had a head of lush, dark hair in great-looking condition. It contrasted with Casper’s snowy coat, especially when the man bent to murmur something to the dog. Like now.

Wow. Casper trusted him, and Casper didn’t trust anybody without a dog treat or a blue ribbon.

The man didn’t look up until Zoey was nearly on top of them, and then he smiled and continued petting the dog. Zoey felt a quiver in her own belly and sank to the floor beside them. “I really appreciate you watching Casper. I don’t even know your name.” Please don’t let it begin with a J. “I’m Zoey.” She reached over Casper and offered her hand.

“Zoey.” He smiled as he said her name. “Cam.”

She was irrationally relieved that his name didn’t, in fact, begin with a J. Then he grasped her hand and she got a jolt of awareness. Or it could have been static electricity. They both started at the sensation, but he didn’t let go.

“So that’s what they mean when they say ‘sparks flew between them.’” He gazed deep into her eyes as he smiled and held her hand. Tingles that had nothing to do with static electricity raced up her arm.

Talk about a connection.

There was something about him that made Zoey feel as if she could bundle up her mess of a life and toss it at him, and he’d fix it. Not that she wanted him, or any man—or woman, or parent, or sister—fixing her life for her. She needed to do that all by herself. Then when she finally did succeed at something, it would be her success, achieved on her own, and everyone else would know it.

Casper raised his head and nosed their clasped hands. There was nothing like a cold, wet dog nose to change the mood.

“Okay, I get the message.” Cam laughed lightly and petted the dog. “He sure likes to have his belly rubbed.”

“I had no idea.” As long as this guy was giving them, Zoey wouldn’t mind a few belly rubs herself.

Cam looked up at her, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Casper is my sister’s dog.”

He nodded to the crate. “Is she Ryka?”

“No, that’s the name of my sister and brother-in-law’s kennel. Ryan and Kate. Ryka. They raise and show Afghan hounds.”

“So that explains the hairstyle and the outfit.”

“Oh, yes.” Zoey couldn’t prevent a sigh from escaping. “It’s supposed to keep his hair clean and from getting tangled and matted. You ought to see him when he’s all dolled up for a show. Really gorgeous. Though talk about high maintenance.” She examined one of Casper’s paws. “Look. Even with the booties, the slush outside has stained the hair around his feet.”

“That’s a given with this floor.” Cam stared down at the dog and gave his tummy a final pat. “I hope it was okay to take off his coat. It was wet.”

“Oh, absolutely. Thank you.” She made a face and dug in her pocket for the wet, dirty booties. “This outfit wasn’t meant to withstand blizzards. I can’t believe there isn’t a designated pet relief area near this terminal. I mean, this is O’Hare.” She gestured around them. “I had to take him across the street. At least there wasn’t any traffic.”

Cam looped his arms around his knees. “It’s bad out there?”

“It’s unreal. How do people live in this weather?” Zoey got up and laid the booties on top of the crate where Cam had draped the wet dog coat. Very thoughtful.

She slid a glance toward him. He still sat by Casper, apparently not in a hurry to go anywhere, and her lingering guilt about thrusting Casper on him evaporated.

“Doesn’t it snow in Virginia?” he asked as Casper came over to the crate and nosed at the empty water container.

“Maybe, but I live in Texas near Austin, and snow isn’t something I see a whole lot of.” Zoey wasn’t thrilled about giving Casper water—what went in was going to come out.

As she opened the spout on Casper’s water dispenser, Cam said, “Hey, I live in San Marcos.”

Zoey glanced over at him in time to catch a surprisingly wide smile bracketed by a couple of killer dimples she hadn’t noticed before. Not that she was a dimple person. Or hadn’t been in the past. She might be one now. A couple of beats went by, during which Casper’s dish filled with more water than Zoey had intended. She closed the spigot as Casper lapped greedily. “I’m in Round Rock.”

“Just a few miles up the road.” Still smiling, he shook his head. “What are the chances?”

Zoey looked around at the people waiting in line and hanging out by the exit watching the snow. “Judging by all the A&M, UT and Texas Tech shirts, the chances are pretty good.”

“It’s the timing,” he said. “The flights from Texas were some of the last allowed to land before they closed the airport.”

“My connecting flight originated in Richmond. Not that it’s doing me any favors now.”

Zoey could feel him watching her. She wanted to be flattered, but under normal circumstances, she had to make a real effort to attract the attention of upper-tier lookers like Cam. Maybe she’d been going about it all wrong. Maybe all she needed to do to turn a man’s head was appear travel-rumpled and fling a dog at him.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Seattle.”

“The 1:40 United Flight?”

“Yes. Well, originally.” She glanced up and their gazes caught and held.

“Me, too,” he said softly.

She couldn’t look away, even though she knew she was sending signals she had no business sending. He sat still and unblinking, his eyes never leaving hers. They were cool blue with a hot message.

As awareness prickled through her, Zoey reminded herself to breathe. She exhaled and forced herself to move her eyes to the dog. Wow. That was intense.

She had to blink a few times before Casper came into focus. He’d finished slurping the water and now waited expectantly. Food. He wanted food. Zoey didn’t have that much with her. The rest of his special not-available-commercially blend was taking up a lot of space in her suitcase. She gave him a few bits from what she had in her bag. He looked at it and then back up at her. She gave him a little more. “That’s all for now, Casper. I have no idea how long we’re going to be stuck here.”

“I hear that.” Cam got to his feet and brushed his hands together. “Which reminds me, I should find out where they’re storing the box I checked.” He indicated the door where the airline workers loaded and unloaded animals and perishables. “I thought I’d try the cargo guys before standing in line.”

“Good plan, and thanks for helping with Casper,” Zoey told him.

“No problem.” His eyes met hers. There was that intensity again, followed by a hyperawareness of him that caused a hitch in her breathing.

Impulsively, she asked, “Have we met? I mean, before?” Maybe that would explain it.

He started to say something and stopped.

“What?”

“I was going to say I would have remembered you, but that sounds like a line.”

“Well, I know I would have remembered you,” Zoey said. Again, impulsively. And embarrassingly. Feeling her face heat, she gestured vaguely. “Your smile. It’s killer.”

“Yeah?” He smiled his killer smile.

Oh, yeah.

“Still, there’s something...” His eyes traced her face and Zoey willed her blush to fade. Maybe he’d think it was windburn. “Did you go to Texas State?” he asked.

She shook her head. “UT. Maybe we just saw each other in a crowd somewhere. Do you ever go to Dasko’s?”

“No. I’ve wanted to, but I’m usually working weekends.”

“Where?”

“MacNeil’s Brewery.”

“Right! It’s outside San Marcos. I’ve been there.”

His face lit up. “One of the Saturday tours?”

Zoey laughed. “More than one. In fact, I helped my friend Pam throw a birthday party for her husband there.”

“Yeah?” His dimples deepened. Wow. When had dimples become sexy? “I’m the one who handles the event scheduling.”

“Maybe we spoke on the phone!” The idea made her absurdly pleased.

“When was the party?” Cam asked.

“Oh, it’s been a while. A couple of summers ago. I don’t think the brewery had been open all that long.”

“Then I definitely would have been manning the taps.”

“Really?” Zoey could feel herself grinning, but then, so was he. For the first time in a long while—and for the first time in years with a guy who didn’t have a J name—she experienced that glorious, fizzy euphoria of first attraction when you’re sure the other person is experiencing the same thing.

“Do you remember the date?” Cam asked.

“No, but it was in July. It was a Harley-themed party because Pam was giving her husband a motorcycle. She wanted it to be a surprise, which meant we had to get it there. Neither of us had ever driven a motorcycle before, so we took turns driving it while the other followed in the car.” Zoey laughed. “You should have seen us!”

She assumed he’d laugh with her, and he did, but the fizz had gone flat. “Then once we finally got to the brewery, we had to find some place to hide the bike.”

“And you hid it in the beer cooler.” He was still smiling, but neither his teeth nor his dimples showed. She missed them.

“Yes! You remember!” Zoey said way too brightly.

“Hard to forget.”

Okay, there was definitely an edge to his voice now. What on earth had she said? She’d babbled but not all that much, had she?

“It was a really hot weekend,” he added, and Zoey knew he was referring to the temperature and not all the girls in their skimpy black-leather biker-chick costumes.

“Good thing there was a lot of cold beer because let me tell you, black leather in the sun is something else!”

He smiled—a polite, impersonal smile. It was such a contrast from his earlier expression that Zoey actually felt a pain in her stomach.

What had gone wrong? Had they drunk too much beer at the party? She tried to remember...no, and anyway, MacNeil’s would have stopped serving them before they got to that point. She and Pam had cleaned up some afterward and had even returned with a couple of friends the next day to finish taking down the decorations and gather any trash.

Zoey couldn’t figure out what had made Cam stop looking at her with that intense, hot, I-wish-we-could-do-something-about-this gaze and instead withdraw into mere politeness.

Whatever, it was gone. She should end the conversation. But did she stop talking? Did she say, “Small world” and shake her head, thank him again, and wish him luck with the baggage handlers? Oh, no. She kept talking. She kept talking because only minutes ago, this guy, this top-tier looker, had been gazing at her with serious interest—and it wasn’t last call in a bar, so he wasn’t wearing beer goggles. But now he’d lost that interest, and she wanted a clue as to why. A hint.

And so she kept talking about the stupid motorcycle. “Speaking of cold, when we rolled the motorcycle out of the cooler, the heat made the bike’s metal fog. It was all slick and wet and the chrome wasn’t shiny, so Pam sent me to find some rags so we could...”

A hazy memory surfaced.

“...could, uh,” Zoey gestured with her hand. “Wipe the condensation off.”

The memory sharpened into a crystal-clear image of a man—one who’d looked just like Cam—mopping up a pool of beer. She remembered watching as a couple of bottles popped their caps and beer fountained into the air. The man she now recognized as Cam had thrown down the mop in frustration before catching sight of her. They had stared at each other from opposite ends of a long, open-ended hall for a few seconds before Zoey had ducked into the ladies’ restroom, where she’d grabbed a handful of paper towels.

For the first time, she made the connection between the exploding beer and the bottles she and Pam had moved out of the cooler the day before to make room for the bike.

“We did meet,” she admitted. Might as well get it over with. “You were cleaning up beer.”

He nodded. “The bottles got too hot. The batch was fresh.”

They stared at each other just as they had then. “That was the beer we moved out of the cooler to make room for the bike, wasn’t it?” Hiding the bike had been her idea.

“Yes.”

“The red-headed guy said it was okay.”

“Gus probably forgot what happens to metal walls in the afternoon sun.”

It had been cool and shady when she and Pam had moved the beer outside, which was why they’d chosen the spot. It had also been morning. “I don’t think he knew where we’d moved the beer.” And to be honest, she’d forgotten all about it once the party had started. Zoey closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. That was a big mess.”

“It’s not your fault. Gus should have paid closer attention.”

“Yes, it was my fault.” She exhaled heavily and opened her eyes. “Did you get into trouble because of it?”

“No.” He denied it firmly but not before a telling hesitation.

No one but Zoey would have noticed, and she noticed only because she’d become an expert at recognizing when people were hiding the true extent of her mistakes from her. Didn’t they realize it only made her feel worse?

“But you had to pay for it, didn’t you? Don’t.” She held up a hand when he started to speak. “I know you’re not saying everything. People always do that when I mess up.” She had a horrible thought. “Did Gus get fired? Please tell me nobody got fired.”

“Gus can’t get fired,” he assured her quickly. “He’s one of the owners. And so am I.”

That was so not what she expected to hear. A name from the brewery’s website popped into her mind. He’d said his name was Cam. “You’re Cameron MacNeil!”

“Yeah.” His smile flashed. “So it’s all good.”

It was not all good, or he’d still be showing her those dimples. “Not until I reimburse you for the beer you lost that day.”

He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “That was two years ago. Forget it.”

“A year and a half, but that’s not the point. I want to make it right. I can’t give you back your beer, or the time you spent cleaning it up, but I can pay for the damage.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary.” Cam looked down at her and a little of the interest he’d shown earlier returned to his expression. “Gus should have moved the bottles or shown you where to put them,” he said. “We learned a lesson, nobody got hurt and it’s never happened again, so forget about it. Seriously.”

But she couldn’t. “Why? You haven’t.”

* * *

CAM HAD TO ADMIT she was right. “Only because Gus tells that story a lot. He thinks it’s funny.” Cam’s jaw tightened as he remembered Gus had claimed that he’d had no idea how the beer ended up outside the cooler. And now here was Zoey, close to two years later, offering to reimburse him the moment she’d learned of her mistake. It was refreshing when people accepted responsibility for their mistakes. It spoke to a depth of character Cam found very appealing.

He gazed at her determined face. Honestly, when he’d realized she was behind the Great Exploding Beer affair, he’d written her off as a pretty but thoughtless party girl. Cam met a lot of that type at the brewery, and they weren’t worth the bother.

But glad as he was to know he’d been wrong about her, Zoey had become dangerously attractive.

The original idea had been to enjoy flirting with her while they were stuck in the airport and then they’d both walk away afterward. The danger was that he wasn’t sure he’d want to walk away. He didn’t want to walk away now.

“But you don’t think it’s funny. You’re still mad.”

Cam realized he’d been frowning. “Not at you.” He smiled. “You apologized, so we’re good.” He suspected they could be great, though, and he wanted to find out.

The timing? Horrible.

The logistics? Impossible.

The chances of a successful relationship? Not high. Especially when she should be looking at him with relief and gratitude.

Except she was not looking at him with relief and gratitude. More like anger and something else. He couldn’t figure out what. Maybe it was just anger.

Why was she angry?

He’d expected her to say something like, “That’s really nice of you. At least let me buy you coffee.” Or dinner because what else was there to do while they waited?

Instead, she said, “We are not good. If we were good, I’d be seeing your dimples right now. But you’re dimpleless.”

He blinked. “Dimpleless?”

“Yeah. As soon as you realized I was the one who broke your beer, you turned colder than that blizzard outside.” She gestured toward the doors and her hair whipped around, almost close enough to brush his arm. His skin tingled anyway.

He couldn’t exactly tell her he was “dimpleless” because he’d felt a real connection with her and then was hugely disappointed when he’d thought she wasn’t worthy. But now he’d decided she was more than worthy and was mentally complaining to himself about the timing. No, he couldn’t say those things unless he wanted to sound like an arrogant jerk. A little arrogance never hurt anybody, but he wasn’t a jerk. “I’m over it. You apologized. I accepted.” He smiled until he felt his dimples. “See?”

“I see fake dimples.”

Cam’s smile became genuine. “Why are you mad?”

“Because you won’t admit you’re mad!”

“Because I’m not.”

Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were a cool green that called him into their depths. Cam was so ready to answer that call. If she weren’t glaring at him, he would.

The seconds ticked by without the heat fading from her cheeks. “How much?” she asked.

“How much what?”

Her arms stole around her middle and she hugged herself. “How much was the beer worth?”

“I have no idea,” he said with exasperation. “But it doesn’t matter. Breakage, bad batches, faulty bottling—it’s all part of the cost of doing business.”

And yet she was still glaring at him. “I don’t believe you. You are exactly the type of man who would know the loss to the penny. Not only that, I’ll bet you broke the damage down by actual cost and retail value.”

“I wouldn’t be much of a business man if I hadn’t. But it’s been so long, I honestly don’t remember.” A movement behind her caught his eyes. Casper had raised his head. The dog probably sensed the tension between them.

Zoey saw Cam glance behind her and followed his gaze. “Hey, Casper.”

The dog thumped his bunched tail and laid his head down again. Zoey moved closer to Cam, close enough that he smelled the sweet, lemony scent of her skin. Like lemonade. “I want the retail value.” She nodded toward his jacket pocket. “If you really can’t remember, call and have somebody look it up. Right now.”

Oh, for— “No.”

She seemed momentarily startled before resolve settled on her features again. “I’m still going to send you money, so you may as well give me a figure.”

This was about more than some exploding beer, Cam finally understood. People always do that when I mess up, he remembered her saying. “Why is it so important that you pay me back?”

She exhaled and looked away. “People get weird when I don’t. They say it’s okay, but the way they act around me is never the same.” She met his eyes. “So I always cover the financial loss and hope for an opportunity to make up for any other wrongs.”

Forget the money. Cam was more interested in the “other wrongs.” “Are you saying you’re accident prone?”

She shook her head. “I make mistakes.”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah, well I make a lot of them. Big ones. And I’m getting tired of it, I can tell you.”

Cam started to laugh but wisely reconsidered. “Don’t you learn from your mistakes?”

“Of course. Don’t hide motorcycles in beer coolers. Lesson learned.”

Now Cam did laugh. “It probably seemed like a good idea at the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s going on my tombstone.” She traced imaginary words in the air. “Zoey Archer. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He laughed again as he mentally filed away her last name. Zoey briefly smiled before saying, “So give me your contact info—or I’ll just send payment to the brewery.”

Cam heard a history of soured friendships and broken relationships in her voice. He was a complete stranger and she could easily avoid seeing him ever again, but she was insisting on reimbursing him anyway. He admired her for it, but he wasn’t going to take her money. They needed to get past this.

She’d been waiting for his response and now gave a little shrug before turning toward the snoozing Casper. “The brewery it is.”

“Wait.” If she walked away now, they’d never be more than two strangers who met at an airport.

Zoey hesitated before looking up at him.

As he met her eyes, Cam tried to come up with a way to convince her to spend time with him. “Rather than paying me back with money, you could help me instead.”

Her eyes narrowed. “With what?”

“I’ve got a box of samples that I’d rather have with me instead of trusting they won’t get frozen in the warehouse.” Cam was thinking on the fly. “It’s heavy, we’re going to be here for hours, and I don’t want to drag it around with me. Not only that, the MacNeil brewery logo is printed all over the box and this is an airport full of bored, stressed people.”

“I can see how that would make you a target,” she said, and he wasn’t clear if she was being sarcastic or not. She was not encouraging him, that’s for sure.

“Since we’re both going to Seattle, we should team up. We can take turns standing in lines and watching each others’ stuff.”

Zoey gazed at him, apparently thinking it over. “My ‘stuff’ includes a dog.”

“Casper. I know. We’re buds, aren’t we, Casper?” Cam glanced toward the dog, whose head rested on his paws as he watched them. Casper swished his tail once. “See? He’s all for it.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’re a brave man.”

“Because of Casper?”

“No, because of your samples. You’d trust me with beer again?”

Was that the problem? He grinned. “It’s packed in a crate inside a foam cooler inside a box. Completely Zoey-proof.”

“Nothing is Zoey-proof. You hang around me, and eventually you’ll pay for it.” She spoke in a bleak tone of utter certainty.

“It would be worth it.”

“Yeah, you say that now, but—”

“Still worth it,” he said firmly.

Her eyes widened. “What makes you so sure?”

“The chemistry.”

“What?”

“Between us.” Cam gestured back and forth. “You’ve felt it. I know you have.”

“Oh, please.” She looked heavenward. “Does that line actually work for you?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Next you’ll say you can prove it.”

“I don’t have to. Do I?”

Zoey froze. Asking her to admit to a mutual attraction was a gamble, but Cam needed to distract her from dwelling on past mistakes. He hoped he hadn’t scared her off. Right now, it appeared she could go either way.

“You just met me,” she said.

“That’s my point.” He gave her his most reassuring smile. “I want us to get to know each other.”

She still stared at him, wide-eyed, and he really wished he could tell what she was thinking.

“I’m also serious about teaming up.” He gestured toward the monitors, displaying that airline after airline was canceling flights. “This is going to get messy.”

Her eyes flicked toward the monitors. She swallowed. Maybe he’d come on too strong and now he should back off. “Just consider it while I go get my box. We can talk when I—”

“No. No, no, no.” Shaking her head, she backed away. Casper got to his feet and trotted over to her. “There’s not going to be any teaming up. I have to concentrate on getting Casper to Merriweather Kennels to breed with Alexandra of Thebes. That’s the plan and I’ve got to stick with the plan. I can’t add anything to the plan.”

“Uh, okay.”

“You’re looking at me as though I’m crazy.” Zoey exhaled. “But when I get an idea or want to take advantage of an opportunity—that’s when mistakes happen. Take the party. The goal was to get the motorcycle to the brewery, but then when we got there, I thought, wouldn’t it be great if we hid it so it would be a surprise?” She flung up her hands and Casper’s tags jingled as the leash moved. “And you remember what happened.”

“Was getting stuck in Chicago part of your plan?” Cam asked.

“No, and that’s why I have to be very careful. No distractions. So...it was nice meeting you and maybe I’ll see you around.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake.

Cam stared a moment before grasping it. He heard a snap as static electricity shocked them. Zoey’s hand jerked.

Cam laughed. “See? How can you walk away from that?”

“Watch me.” Zoey turned around and walked off, taking Casper with her.

“Zoey!” Cam eyed the empty crate she left behind and called, “I’m not a mistake. Walking away—that’s the mistake.”

She kept going. He couldn’t believe she kept going. Couldn’t she accept that she’d need help eventually, unless she wanted to leave Casper unattended while she got food to eat and their flight rescheduled.

Cam watched Zoey walk away and felt a sense of loss all out of proportion to the amount of time he’d known her. He could contact her once he was back in Texas, but he wouldn’t. Even if this trip succeeded and he got more help at the brewery, he still wouldn’t have time for a relationship. Especially one with Zoey. Carving out the hours to spend with past girlfriends had been a chore, just one more thing on a long list of things. But he sensed it would be different with Zoey because he’d resent the brewery for taking him away from her.

She’s right. Getting together would be a mistake. But still, Cam stood there, unable to look away as Zoey and Casper wove through the crowd. And then she stopped abruptly and a man talking on a cell phone almost plowed into her.

She stared down at the floor and stood for several seconds before wheeling Casper around and walking back.

Caught watching her, Cam expected her to change course, but Zoey strode right up to him.

“Prove it,” she said.

“What?”

“Prove we’ve got chemistry worth pursuing. Because now you’ve got me wondering, and that’s just as distracting as being around you, so why not find out? Maybe we don’t have any real chemistry and I’ll be worrying about nothing. So, I want to know. Give it your best sh—”