The tiny hairs at the nape of her neck prickled. Ellie didn’t need to sneak another peek to know the guy was watching her when she reached for her carry-on bag. The handle snapped into place. Her fingers curled around smooth plastic and she mustered up a little bravado.
Like what you see, Mr. Talldarkandlackinginsocialskills?
She boldly met his eyes when she passed, and apparently he did like. The heat of his gaze followed her from the seating area. Ellie tossed her head as she waded into the milling crowd on the concourse, a pang of regret sharpening the hunger pangs needling her stomach. The haircut had been an impulse—a lark, a declaration of independence—but for the first time in two weeks she missed having a curtain of hair to hide behind.
****
Jack tensed when the young woman in the bright green sweater skirted his outstretched legs. He stared after her. He couldn’t stop staring at her, and staring at her was driving him crazy. He wanted to chalk his interest up to boredom, but he found cataloging her every movement and mannerism far too captivating to be bored.
The fascination baffled him. She wasn’t his type at all. He liked his women long-stemmed and light—both in appearance and in attitude. With her close-cropped cap of dark hair, clingy green sweater, and thick-fringed emerald stare, this girl looked more like a Christmas elf.
She’s no bigger than an elf.
He eyed the petite woman teetering down the concourse. His mouth watered. Without conscious thought, his knees bent. The soles of his shoes hit the floor and he stood. As if an invisible fishing line tugged at his belt buckle, he took off after her.
Way to take the bait, buddy. Hook, line, and sinker.
Tall leather boots with toothpick heels molded to shapely calves. He envied that soft, supple leather. An unbearable surge of jealousy washed through him when he noted the way the long, snug sweater cupped her delectable bottom. She weaved her way toward a stand of fast-food outlets and he followed, mesmerized by the gentle undulation of rounded hips.
She barely spared him a glance when he strolled into the food court. Instead, she studied the lighted menu above the sub sandwich counter with an intensity that made him smile. Jack slipped into the line extending from the miniature Burger King counter, hanging back just enough to be able to keep an eye on her.
Twenty-five? Thirty?
She frowned. Her fingers fluttered through her hair.
No ring.
She pulled her wallet from the bag and tucked her chin to her chest as she thumbed through its contents.
Oh, God, is that a birthmark behind her ear?
Until that moment, he’d never been a fan of short hair on a woman, but that tiny strawberry smudge behind her right ear changed his opinion irrevocably. As if sensing his stare, she glanced at him. He almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to turn away.
Good. Nice and smooth. She’ll be filing stalking charges within the hour.
Jack stared at the menu board, steadfastly refusing to risk another peek for a full two minutes. She stepped up to the counter and began to order. He moved to his left, straining to pick up the sound of her voice amidst the hubbub. He shifted a little more but had to jump back when the man ahead of him tried to run over Jack’s foot with a roller bag.
The woman at the counter looked at him expectantly. The teenager in line with him muttered, “You gonna order or what?”
He ordered his usual combo number by rote. Once his receipt was in hand, Jack carefully walked to the opposite side of the common beverage station, determined to put a half-dozen travelers and an island of carbonated syrup between them while he waited for his dinner.
Jack pretended not to notice when she claimed her sandwich. He told himself the click-click-click of heels and wheels on the tile floor could belong to anyone. He sternly reminded himself that there was nothing interesting about the tumble of ice cubes falling from the dispenser, and absolutely nothing sexy about the soft psssht the beverage fountain released.
Get a grip, Jackie. A grip. Boy, I’d like to get a grip. I’d unwrap that pretty little package….
“Dude, your food!” The lanky teenager nudged Jack’s arm with his bony elbow.
Jack grunted. “Dude, I’ve got it.” He surged forward to retrieve the bag and cup the counter attendant waved in his direction. Still muttering under his breath, he filled the cup with enough ice to sink the Titanic and chose the least caffeinated drink available in hopes of calming his jangled nerves.
He zigzagged his way through the lines of hungry passengers to the dining area strung along the edge of the concourse. Every table was taken. Only three chairs remained unclaimed, and one of them happened to be opposite his elf.
Jack closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Well, it’s no star in the East, but what can you do?” he muttered under his breath.
****
“Is this seat taken?”
Absorbed in the task of redistributing the mayonnaise on her sandwich with a plastic fork, Ellie jumped when she realized the question had been directed at her. She looked up and her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Mr. Talldarkandnotsosmooth leaning close.
She reared back slightly, staring into the deepest, darkest bittersweet-chocolate-brown eyes she’d ever seen. Ellie groped for her voice and found it lodged somewhere in her throat. She swallowed hard then murmured, “That depends.”
Thick eyebrows rose. “On?”
“Are you going to keep staring at me while I’m trying to eat?”
A delicate pink rose high in his cheeks, contrasting with the coarse black stubble that shadowed his jaw. A wide, blindingly white smile revealed a devastating dimple.
“I can’t guarantee that I won’t.”
Ellie glanced down at the partially disassembled sandwich spread on the wrapper in front of her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and attempted a nonchalant shrug, pulling the wrapper a little closer to free up a few more inches of space.
“Well, you can tell me if I get mayonnaise on my chin.”
“I will. I promise.” He slid into the chair across from her, depositing his bag and cup and groaning as his laptop bag slithered to the ground at his feet. He nodded to the nearest gate area. “What a mess, huh?”
Ellie busied herself with the precise realignment of three anemic-looking tomato slices. “Yep.”
Mr. Talldarkanddimpled extracted a cardboard sandwich box and a giant container of fries from the bag. Ellie watched through lowered lashes as he tore into packet after packet of ketchup, pooling their contents on a raft of paper napkins.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
She looked up, arching one challenging eyebrow. “Home for Christmas.”
He chuckled and shook his head. A self-deprecating smile made that dimple wink at her again. Mr. Talldarkcondimentabuser wiped his fingers on another napkin and extended his hand.
“I’m Jack Rudolph.”
Ellie eyed that large hand speculatively. His long fingers reached for her, his broad palm exposed and vulnerable. She glanced up and he twitched one eyebrow in silent challenge. She placed her hand in his. Those long, strong fingers closed around hers. He didn’t release her right away, so she fell back on the only weapon a vertically challenged woman has when faced with a formidable opponent and without a shield of hair to flip.
“Rudolph?” She blinked at him then fluttered her lashes. “Can I bribe you to guide my sleigh tonight?”
His deep, easy laugh rumbled through her. “Possibly,” he answered with a grin.
Ellie extracted her hand from his grasp. Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her head.
Good Lord, Eleanor, would it kill you to be a little friendly? You’re far too prickly for such a pretty girl. You’re thirty-two years old. Aren’t you ever going to get married?
Her ears burned. A rush of shame and humiliation raced through her veins. She fumbled with her sub sandwich, slapping both halves back together then flattening one with the palm of her hand.
&
nbsp; “I’m sorry. I bet you got that a lot when you were a kid,” she murmured, sneaking a peek at him through her lashes.
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. Her throat went dry but she’d swear her bones melted into a steaming pool of goo. His chuckle steamrolled whatever was left. “A few times, but I have to admit I’m tempted to try it for you.”
That dimple was back and flirting with her outrageously. Ellie snatched up her cup and gulped the icy Diet Coke.
“I was going to Chicago,” she rasped, concentrating on keeping her hand steady as she lowered the cup. “You?”
“Tampa.” He swirled a couple of fries through his cache of ketchup. “My flight out of Oklahoma City was delayed, so I missed my connection. I’m on stand-by for the last flight out.”
“Ugh. That sucks.”
They fell silent for a moment. Ellie plucked a bit of crust from the bread and eyed her sandwich warily, wondering if there was a graceful way to eat a loaded sub.
“So, mystery woman from Chicago, what’s the prognosis on your flight? Think you’ll make it home tonight, or should I start rousting the other eight tiny reindeer?”
She looked up, cocking her head when he opened the cardboard box to reveal an enormous burger. “Ellie. My name is Ellie.”
Jack scooped up the burger with both hands and favored her with a devilish smile as he lifted the dripping mess. “I’m sorry, did you say Elfie?”
She rolled her eyes while he took an ambitious bite. Mustard smeared the stubble on his chin. His lips curved in a smile as he chewed. His steady gaze remained locked on her, waiting for more.
“Ellie Nichols. And no, I don’t make toys for a living.”
Jack swallowed the huge bite. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Ellie curled her fingers into her palm to resist the urge to run them along the long column of his throat. He caught her staring and those eloquent dark brows jumped again. She reached for her drink, taking long pulls from the straw.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked, leaning in and resting one elbow on the wobbly table.
“I manage a hotel.”
“Here in St. Louis, or Chicago?”
Her stomach rumbled another protest, and Ellie’s cheeks flamed. Thankful for the hum of activity surrounding them, she picked up the sandwich, determined to pick up her game too.
“You have mustard on your chin,” she said in a hushed tone. When he scrambled for a napkin she smiled, poised to take her own bite. “Actually, it’s in Little Rock.”
The paper napkin rasped against the stubble of his beard. She grinned and took her bite. Jack gave up on patting his chin and swabbed the entire lower half of his face. “Little Rock? Well, that’s not too far.”
Ellie chewed slowly, fixing him with an appraising stare. She washed the bite down with a sip of her Diet Coke and smiled. “Not too far for what?”
The blush crept up his neck and painted his ears a Christmassy red. Ellie held her breath, waiting for his nose to glow too. A low murmur of dissent rose from the crowd in the terminal. She glanced up and saw people rushing for the monitors and the gates.
“Something’s happening,” she said, dropping her sandwich onto the outstretched wrapper.
Jack swiveled in his seat and squinted at the crowds gathering at various check-in desks. “This can’t be good.”
Ellie fumbled with her sandwich again, clumsily folding the paper wrapper around it while trying to shoulder her purse. “I’d better go see.”
He reached across the table, halting her jerky movements with one hand. “Just leave this here.”
“I can’t,” she stammered, offering him a wan smile as she slid from the chair. “Didn’t you hear the first fifty thousand announcements? The TSA always says not to leave your belongings unattended.”
“I’ll keep an eye on your things.”
She blinked and shook her head. “I don’t know you. You could be a terrorist, for all I know.”
He chuckled and shifted in his seat, reaching for his back pocket. “You can be pretty sure I’m not.”
“Oh?”
Jack smiled and held up a slim black wallet. With a practiced flick of his finger, it fell open to reveal a badge and a photo ID stamped with the letters FBI.
Ellie’s jaw dropped. When she managed to scrape it off the floor, she shook her head slowly. “Wow. I sure hope you don’t do the undercover surveillance stuff, because you suck at it.”
“I’m not on duty,” he said with a chuckle. He nodded to the concourse and pulled a half dozen fries from the box. “Go check on your flight. I’ll watch your things.”
She narrowed her eyes, watching him chew. “What if they realize I left my bag with a stranger posing as a G-Man and try to arrest me?”
Jack shrugged, swallowed, and gathered another round of fries, dredging them in the ketchup. “You can scream entrapment.”
She grinned. “You’re trying to trap me?”
His hand stilled. Ketchup dripped onto the table. He met her gaze directly. “I figure if I keep your bag, you’ll have to get it back from me and I’ll get to talk to you some more.”
“So, you admit to the entrapment?”
Another drop of ketchup fell unheeded and spattered on the tabletop. “I’ll sign a confession.”
Ellie craned her neck and spotted the crowd gathering at the podium near her gate. She turned back to him, noting the rapidly dwindling supply of French fries in the container. “Don’t eat my dinner.”
He snorted. “Please. A little thing like you can’t eat all of that.”
She flashed him a saucy smile. “Oh, Mr. Reindeerman, you have no idea what I’m capable of doing.” Ellie hitched the strap of her purse a little higher on her shoulder. “Your sleeve is in the ketchup,” she whispered as she brushed past him.
****
Jack’s dinner was a memory, but Ellie hadn’t returned. He slouched in the uncomfortable metal chair, watching the food court workers wipe down stations. Behind him, the terminal buzzed with activity. He checked his watch. He still had the better part of an hour before they’d attempt to board his flight.
Metal gates screeched over the litany of flight numbers called over the public address system. The food court was closing for the night. A steady stream of dejected travelers flowed past, heading for the terminal exits. A knot of harried passengers swarmed the gate podiums. A flash of green told him Ellie was still snarled up in that knot.
Restless, Jack stood and dumped the debris from his meal into a nearby trash bin. He carefully re-wrapped her mangled sandwich, slipped the sub into its plastic sleeve, wiped the condensation from her cup, and mopped the table with the damp napkins. Gathering her meal, he looped the strap of his computer bag over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of her carry-on.
He paused outside the newsstand opposite Ellie’s gate and spotted her talking on her cell phone. The muscles in his forehead contracted into a frown when he noted the distress in her jerky gestures. She turned back to the counter and spoke, but the airline employee gave only a helpless shrug.
Her shoulders tensed. Ellie shoved the phone into her purse and stepped to the podium, planting her hands on the top. Jack bit the inside of his cheek and turned away, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips.
Oh, man. I have a feeling they’re in for it now.
A display of paperback bestsellers caught his eye. He released his hold on her bag and snagged a copy of a novel he’d been meaning to read. Juggling the remnants of her dinner and both their bags, he made his way into the store. Jack eyed the candy bars around the register and noted his choices.
A carousel of souvenirs cleverly located beside the checkout line tempted shoppers with thimbles and spoons featuring the Gateway Arch. Jack smirked as he perused the selection, nudging the display to check out the array of key chains and magnets on the next panel.
Jack moved to the front of the line when a pre-teen boy lurched forward to attack the candy display. The clerk meticulously sorted through the crum
pled bills and scattered coins the boy pulled from his pockets. Jack sighed and glanced at the carousel. That’s when something shiny captured his attention.
A narrow Lucite shelf loaded with small plastic snow globes called to him. Ellie’s carry-on bag rocked on its wheels when he released the handle. The sandwich bag rustled. Ice cubes slapped against the plastic cup. The book tucked under his arm tried to make a break for it, but he caught it, shoving it back into place then reaching for one of the trinkets. He gave the molded plastic an experimental shake and a blizzard of fine white powder rained down on the Arch, coating the St. Louis skyline.
“It’s your turn,” the man behind him growled.
Turning his head, Jack fixed the shorter man with a withering glare. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” he grumbled, snaking his wrist through the handle on Ellie’s bag.
He deposited his load on the counter. The paperback tumbled from under his arm, the binding smacking Formica. He grabbed the candy bars he’d staked out and tossed them into the mix before reaching for his wallet, paying scant attention to the clerk.
The mumbled total made his eyebrows jump. Jack dared a glance at the concourse as he thumbed through his cash and pulled out a twenty. The clerk shook open a bag. Jack’s eyes widened as the man gathered the paperback and snow globe.
“Oh. I didn’t mean…I wasn’t going to buy that. The snow globe,” he said in a rush.
The clerk pulled it from the bag. “You want me to void?”
A collective groan rose from the queue behind him, and Jack grimaced. “No, it’s fine. That’s fine. I’ll take it,” he said, shaking his head and shoving the twenty at the man.
He plowed his way through the tiny shop with his laptop banging against his hip and her carry-on nipping at his heels. He stumbled out of the store just as Ellie appeared on the opposite side of the concourse.
“What did you find out?” he called, weaving his way through the straggling passengers.
Her shoulders slumped and she blinked up at him blearily. “Both O’Hare and Midway have closed. I’m on stand-by for the first flight out in the morning.”
“You’re kidding.”
Ellie wrapped her arms around her stomach, hugging herself. “I wish I was.”
Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set Page 102