Could this day get any worse? She hated to even throw that question out to the universe for fear the answer would come back to bite her in the ass. She’d been holding it together so well, waiting for the moment to get away from Zach. Zach with his broad chest, sunshiny good looks, and… oh hell, she needed to take some space before she laid into him about things better left in the past.
Zach’s hand closed around the handle of an oversized, weathered brown leather bag. “Let’s get inside and get the room situation figured out. Then you can call the airline and find out what happened to your tomb-whatever-the-hell-you-called-it.”
“Tumi,” she mumbled. A Tumi with her contacts, the dress she planned on wearing to the wedding, and fifty boxes of the most decadent, personalized chocolates the guests could ever hope to let melt in their mouths. Determined to not let the lost bag and drenching downpour get the better of her, she steeled herself for the potential argument ahead and followed Zach through the automatic sliding glass door.
As rainwater dripped off her hair, splashed into her ballet flats, and bounced onto the ceramic tile floor, she took a good look around the tiny check-in area. Faded prints of horses grazing in green meadows and famous Kentucky Derby winners graced the beige walls. A long line of their fellow passengers stretched from the desk almost to the door.
Reagan joined Zach at the end of the line and prepared for yet another wait. “I’m sorry for letting my frustration get the best of me. It’s been a really long day.” A long day, a long week, a long month. A long eight years with him invading her thoughts.
“I take it a detour to Louisville wasn’t a line item in your notebook?” He peered down at her, his brown eyes sparkling with that ever-present hint of humor. She’d always loved his ability to shine light into the shadows and tease her into a good mood when hers had gone bad. Thank goodness that hadn’t changed.
“Um, that’s an understatement. I’ve been working out the details of this wedding for the past six months. Knowing everyone’s there without me and there’s not a darn thing I can do about it must be getting to me.”
Zach rested a hand on her shoulder, and she let out a sigh at the contact. Being around him had a calming effect on her rattled nerves. It also sent her pulse racing and raised goose bumps along her extremities, but knowing she wasn’t in this alone helped ease her anxiety. Poor Zach, all he’d tried to do was help her.
His stomach let out a loud growl. It had been hours since they’d shared that platter of nachos at the airport bar.
“Peace offering?” She held out the pink box.
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Just one.”
He flipped up the lid and picked up the cupcake that had been slightly crunched. His fingers peeled back the plain white wrapper, and he shoved a third of the oversized cupcake into his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly, like he was savoring each morsel. When he finally swallowed, he held the remaining cupcake out to her. “Want a bite?”
“Sure.” She broke off a tiny bit and popped it in her mouth. The subtle taste of Irish cream floated across her tongue. She licked her lips, capturing every last crumb. Sal’s slogan was dead on…it was like a little taste of heaven.
When they finally reached the registration desk, Reagan presented the single room voucher and explained the problem. The clerk typed something on the keyboard in front of her, and Reagan craned her neck to try to see over the counter.
“I apologize for the misunderstanding, but I don’t have any additional rooms to offer you.” She slid a keycard across the counter. “The airline took everything we have.”
Reagan leaned against the desk and offered a knowing smile. “I’m in the industry. I know all hotels hold back a certain number of rooms for emergencies. And this definitely qualifies as an emergency.”
The clerk assessed Reagan over the top of her glasses. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this hotel’s practice is to book the rooms if we can. We don’t hold anything back. As I said, we have no available rooms.”
No rooms? Impossible. She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t expect me to sleep with him.” She gestured toward Zach.
Zach leaned in and mumbled close to her ear. “Hey, cupcake. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried.”
Reagan spun around and pressed her palm against his chest, his rock hard, slab-of-granite chest. “Can you give me a minute? I’m trying to fix this.”
“By all means.” Zach stepped to the side and leaned an elbow on the counter.
“We need another room.” She summoned her most polite smile and turned the charm up to high. “We can’t possibly share, we’re practically strangers.”
“Ma’am, all I can do is give you one room for each voucher you have. You have one voucher, you get one room.”
“Can you call another hotel? See if there’s something else nearby?”
“I could but I can already tell you everything is booked. We’ve got ten thousand Shriners in town for a conference. But if you’d like to wait over there”—the clerk gestured to the two club chairs by the front door—“I can let you know if we have anything left once everyone’s redeemed their vouchers.”
Hope sprung in her chest. “Yes, that would be fantastic.”
“Here, take the key.” Zach slid the key to her. “Why don’t you head up to the room and I’ll wait here?”
Nodding, Reagan took the keycard and clasped the bakery box to her chest.
Zach shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “Is there a bathroom down here where I can put on some dry clothes?”
“Just over there.” The clerk pointed toward a narrow hallway.
Dry clothes. Reagan shivered. The thought of slipping into a pair of pajamas after a hot shower sounded absolutely divine. But she didn’t have pajamas. Because she didn’t have a suitcase.
As Zach walked past, she cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you have any extra dry clothes in that bag, do you?”
“This bag?” He lifted it up. “Pretty sure I do.”
“Then I don’t suppose you’d want to work out some kind of a trade?” She pushed a sopping wet strand of hair away from her face.
He cocked his head. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
The only thing she had that might tempt him just a little bit was the cupcake box she held in her hands. And Teddy didn’t even like lemon. She’d picked that one out for Cal. “I’ll give you another cupcake in exchange for something I can wear to bed.”
Zach’s mouth tipped up on one side. “I’m not that hungry but I sure could use a place to sleep.”
No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Sitting next to him on a plane or a bus was one thing, but sharing a room? She’d lose it…absolutely lose that tiny shred of control she’d been able to maintain since she set eyes on him if they had to share a room.
“I’ve got to change.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a dry set of clothes I’m eager to get into.”
Reagan’s heart pounded. Her pulse pounded through her ears. “Fine.”
“Fine what?” He slowly spun around.