Zach slid their boarding passes across the counter.
“Everything all right with your family?” he asked.
“Yeah. Everyone’s there, or almost there, but me.” The irony settled around her shoulders like a shawl of bitterness. She’d been knee-deep in details for months. Who would be there to make sure the bar had her dad’s brand of gin and that a stray pine nut didn’t fall into the pasta dish and send her mom into anaphylactic shock?
“I’m sure they’ll wait to start having fun until you get there.” Zach’s cheek crinkled as he served up a wink.
The gate agent passed him a stack of papers, and they stepped away from the counter.
“Can I have my voucher?” Reagan asked.
“You don’t trust me to hang onto it for you until we get to the hotel?”
Reagan held out her hand. Now wasn’t the time to put her trust in someone else. Once upon a time she’d trusted Zach with her heart and look how that turned out. “I’d feel better if I held onto it.”
“Have it your way.” He handed over a slim stack of folded papers.
Reagan flipped through to make sure she had everything then slid them into her purse.
“Should we go find the bus?” He lifted the edge of the pink box. “Unless you want to share dessert before we catch our ride…”
“Give me that!” Reagan snatched the cupcake box from his hands. “If you’re nice and sit next to me on the bus so I don’t get stuck with the crying baby or the sweaty guy from the plane, I might—might—let you eat the one that got crunched.” She wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them. Why did she keep putting herself through the agony of being that close to him? She’d be better off walking away, pretending like she’d never set eyes on him again.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Zach hefted his pack higher on his shoulder and the two of them joined the stream of passengers flowing toward the outer doors and the bus that would transport them on the next leg of their journey.
Zach shifted against the tall, cushioned seat of the chartered bus and tossed a glance at Reagan. She’d buried herself in her notebook as soon as the bus pulled away from the curb. Must be tough for a gal like Reagan, one who always had to be in control, to be at the mercy of a crappy plane. But she hid it well. Years of living in the shadow of her dad had provided an excellent training ground for rolling with the punches.
In complete contrast, up to this point in his life, Zach loved not knowing what the next segment of the trip would hold. He’d lived from moment to moment since he graduated from high school. Every new bump in the road signaled another call to adventure.
If he hadn’t been stranded in the international terminal at LAX a couple of years ago, he wouldn’t have been front and center when that red-hot European boy band arrived for their first US tour. Those shots of their first steps on US soil had paid for two new lenses and a year’s worth of rent on the apartment he kept near Malibu.
But for the past six months, he’d felt a new urge. To put down roots and make more of a home base. Zooming around the world at a moment’s notice, snapping shots of celebs to pay the bills during the tight spots—that had been okay in his early twenties. With the few friends he’d stayed in touch with settling down and getting married, he wondered if he was the kind of guy who could make that work.
The crazy hours, doing whatever it took to get the shot, and putting himself in danger, didn’t hold the same rush as it did when he first started out. Making a name for himself as a credible, legit travel photographer, did. If he took the payment from the Campbell job he’d be able to turn his back on guys like Scazzoli. But he didn’t want to put Reagan at risk.
He let his mind wander, enjoying having Reagan beside him. The scent of her shampoo drifted toward his nose, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled—coconut and vanilla. Like suntan oil on the beach. He couldn’t get involved. Couldn’t allow himself to care about her again. Her dad made it perfectly clear she wasn’t just in another league, she lived in another universe… light years away from the rock he obviously thought Zach lived under.
But Zach could enjoy spending time with her, even if it would be brief. His eyelids drifted down. Before he completely relaxed and gave into the drowsiness, his phone vibrated against his thigh. He pulled it out of his pocket and the screen lit up with a text from Scazzoli: Find out anything yet?
Zach angled the phone away from her. No. Flight diverted. Will land in Miami tomorrow.
Scazzoli: Stick with her, ok?
Zach: You got it.
The dull ache twinged in his core as he pressed “Send.” What the hell was that? He was doing the right thing by stringing Scazzoli along, at least for the time being. If he refused, Scazzoli wouldn’t just ruin Zach’s career, but he’d send another vulture down to get the shot, one who wouldn’t hesitate to sell out the Campbell family. At least if he thought Zach was on the job it would delay the inevitable. Take that, twinge.
Half an hour later, the bus pulled into the circle drive of a two-star Louisville hotel. The driver spoke into the intercom. “Those of you with the number one on your voucher need to get off the bus here. If you have a two, we’ll head to that hotel next.”
Zach unfolded the paperwork the gate agent had given him.
“What number is on your voucher?” Reagan asked.
His fingers flipped through the sheets of paper. “That’s odd.”
“What?”
“Um, I don’t have a voucher. What does yours say?”
“What do you mean you don’t have a voucher?” She snatched the papers from his hands and flipped through. “Why didn’t they give you a voucher?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go. We can check inside.” He stood in the aisle and waited for her to climb out of her window seat.
Reagan’s eyebrows knit together, and her lips twisted into a frown. “You should have checked the paperwork when she gave it back to you.”
“You’re right.” Zach shrugged. “But I didn’t. There’s nothing I can do about it now except go inside and hope they’ve got another room.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbed the cupcake box from the overhead compartment, and made her way up the aisle.
Zach stepped aside as passengers from the back of the bus filtered past. He should have checked the paperwork. Didn’t matter now, though. If they didn’t have an extra room, he’d either have to talk Reagan into sharing or…he’d probably have better luck trying to catch some winks on a couch in the lobby. He ducked down and peered through the rain-spattered, tinted window of the bus. Hell, did this hotel even have a lobby?
5
Reagan hunkered under the narrow overhang of the tiled roof, trying to stay out of the rain. “Do you see my bag?” She glanced over the array of roller bags stacked against the faux stucco siding of the hotel. “They said our bags would be on the curb, but I don’t see mine.”
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” Zach helped the bus driver unload the rest of the luggage, getting drenched in the process.
How would he know what her bag even looked like? “It’s not here. My silver hard side Tumi stands out in a crowd.” That’s the reason she picked that bag…so she’d be able to find it easily on a crowded baggage carousel. But after skimming over the remaining bags that hadn’t already been hauled inside, hers was nowhere in sight.