"Yeah, but you're forgetting something important," I said, climbing onto the large bus.
"What is that?" he asked, sitting down on the bench seat next to me.
I looked at him incredulously. Was he being obtuse on purpose, or was he really that dense? "We don't like each other," I answered, gripping the metal handrail to steady myself as the shuttle came to an abrupt halt.
"Who said I didn't like you, Jams?" he asked, reaching a hand down to help me get to my feet. A couple things happened simultaneously at that moment. One, I had never seen him look so sincere, and two, the feeling of my hand being wrapped inside his large and very masculine hand made my stomach twirl. Our eyes met for a brief instant before I pulled my hand away and scrambled out of the seat and down the aisle. In my haste to leave the shuttle, I neglected to notice the ground was covered in a fine layer of snow.
My feet hit the pavement for only a moment before they were out from under me and I was flat on my back on the tarmac. When I was nine, I fell out of the back of a pickup truck while trying to jump out. My sneaker got caught on the tailgate and long story short, I got a mouth full of dirt. I remember hitting the ground so hard it knocked the breath out of me. The fear of not being able to breathe overlapped the actual pain. At the time, I thought it was the single most embarrassingly painful moment of my life, until now. Falling on a snow-slicked airport tarmac in front of multiple witnesses, including the guy I had once majorly crushed on, was so much worse. Not only because it hurt my ass, which took the brunt of the fall, but my pride took a big punch because falling as an adult is way more embarrassing than when you fall as a child. Plus, the brand-new peacoat I had just bought was getting filthy.
Once I was able to gather myself, I looked up at the many individuals circled around me, who all looked concerned with the exception of one. Grant looked like he was trying not to laugh. I glared up at him, daring him to say anything. His eyes danced with merriment as he reached down to help me up.
"Oh my. Are you okay?" the driver asked from his perch on the last step of the shuttle.
"Fine," I wheezed, looking into Grant's smirking eyes.
"Can you believe she used to be a champion ice skater?" Grant announced loudly, making everyone laugh.
"Oh, that's good. Here, let me give you a round of applause," I said, jerking my hand from his as he helped me to my feet. I lost my footing again and my legs tried sliding out from under me in different directions. Grant reached out and grabbed my jacket just in time to keep me from going down a second time, much to the amusement of everyone watching.
"Hey, I'm not the funny one," he chuckled, keeping a firm hand on my elbow. I would have pulled away, but I wanted to be done embarrassing myself. Only after we entered a large hangar and I was on steady non-slick ground did I jerk my arm from his. His laughter followed me as I made my way down the long rows of purses and suitcases the airline had laid out on the floor. I found my purse quickly, but it took longer to find my small rolling suitcase, which somehow had broken open during the accident. Examining it closer, I could see I wouldn't be able to keep it fastened. Plus, some of my belongings were missing. I sighed, searching for any of my clothing and other personal items. Any loose items had been collectively piled up at the end of the row. Next to the pile was a stack of large plastic bags from Walt Disney World. I laughed at the phrase "The place where dreams come true," along with the image of Mickey Mouse printed on the bag like he was mocking me. Picking through the pile of unclaimed belongings until I was satisfied I had found everything I remembered packing, I transferred everything from my broken suitcase and my stuff I found in the pile into one of the plastic Disney bags.
Grant was waiting by the hangar door, where a security guard double-checked my belongings, making sure I wasn't taking someone else's luggage. I obliged him, but I wasn't in the mood anymore. I had enough of the airport and was ready to leave now that I had my stuff. After watching him paw through the plastic bag for a moment, my aggravation got the best of me and I spoke up. "Why don't you tell me what you're looking for and I can find it. Or maybe it's still in the plane I was in that crashed," I said sarcastically.
"Have a nice evening, ma'am," he said, looking unfazed.
"Yeah," I returned as I walked away.
"Everything okay?" Grant asked, plucking the bag off my arm.
"I can carry it," I protested as he slid it onto his shoulder.
"You have more important things to worry about. Like not slipping," he joked as we left the warmth of the hangar. The shuttle bus was waiting to take us back to the terminal. At least the driver had parked closer, and hopefully I wouldn't mortify myself by busting my ass again.
"I figured we can try to get a car from Enterprise when we get back to the terminal, and then maybe look into the rooms the airline is providing at the airport hotel," Grant said conversationally, like everything was set in stone. I opened my mouth to argue, but reason held me back. He was right. It made sense for us to drive together. We were headed to the same destination.
"Fine," I grudgingly agreed, sinking back in my seat while we waited for the shuttle to fill up with more passengers. I was mentally exhausted and sick of all the waiting. Today felt endless. I couldn't believe everything that had happened in the span of ten hours. My body was dragging like I had run a marathon. Not to mention my stomach was threatening mutiny. I hadn't eaten anything substantial since I left my apartment at the crack of dawn. Digging through my purse, I located my phone and pulled it out. I refrained from kissing it since Grant was watching me. Instead, I opened my blog to make sure there was nothing pressing I needed to take care of. After I was reassured my blog would survive until morning, I hit the tab for my Facebook fan page. Scrolling through my notifications, I responded to anything that required my immediate attention before doing a longwinded status update about my day's mishaps. I was ready to post when the sound of a throat being cleared pulled my attention from my phone. Glancing up, I saw the shuttle was empty with the exception of the driver and Grant, who were both studying me like I was an insect or something. I didn't even flush at their looks. It was no secret that when I was in the middle of work-related activities, I could become a bit involved. It was a long-standing joke with everyone who knew me.
"Plan on sleeping here tonight?" Grant asked wryly as the driver looked on with annoyance.
"Sure, can you fetch me a blanket?" I answered, grabbing my bag. I kept my phone in my hand. I didn't need it, but holding it gave me comfort.
Grant rolled his eyes, but didn't seem bothered. The driver, on the other hand, looked pretty disgusted with my phone dependency, but he was an old-timer who probably didn't have a smart phone. I trailed behind Grant as he carried our bags toward the Enterprise counter to rent a car for the following day. I grinned when he requested something with plenty of legroom. At six foot plus, his request totally made sense. Once we had all our paperwork in order for the car, we headed for the airport hotel. I was seriously dragging by the time we approached the desk together.
The desk clerk smiled condescendingly before telling us all the rooms had been taken for the evening.
It took me a moment to register her words since I was dead on my feet. "But we have vouchers," I said, plunking the paper down on the counter like it was a golden ticket to Wonka's chocolate factory.
"Those are only good if there are rooms available. We had a hiccup with an airline earlier today, which resulted in delays with every carrier. Really, it's to be expected after that kind of chaos," she chirped like she was telling us something we should have already known.
"Hiccup? Is that what they're calling it?" I squawked out. "I think 'hold on to your asses because you're all going to die' would be a more accurate description."
Grant chuckled next me as the smile slipped from the clerk's face as she gaped at me.
"Sorry, I'm just tired," I said more to Grant than the woman who was doing a pretty good impersonation of a guppy.
"No biggie. We'll grab our rental and get a room at another hotel," he reassured me, lifting our bags off the ground.
"Oh, every hotel within a ten-mile radius is completely booked," the clerk, who I was seriously thinking of strangling, said in the same annoyingly chipper tone.
My eyes narrowed as I opened my mouth to tell her where she could shove her chipper tone. Grant grabbed me by the hand and dragged me away from the counter before I could strangle her with the keys she wore around her neck. "She was about to get choked by that freaking scarf around her neck," I grumbled as we staggered back to the Enterprise counter.
"I thought you were going to put her face through her computer monitor," Grant said, chuckling again.
"That would have worked too," I said, sitting on one of the round couches near the Enterprise counter while Grant collected the keys to our rental. I leaned against the back of the couch, closing my eyes briefly. I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew, Grant was shaking me, looking slightly aggravated.
"What's the matter?" I yawned.
"It would seem their car supply is also depleted," he said, sounding as exasperated as I had felt when we found out there were no hotel rooms available.
"And the hits keep on coming," I muttered under my breath.
Chapter 4
"What does that mean?" I asked, afraid the couch I was sitting on would be my temporary bed for the night. Talk about a colossal sucky day.
"It means we have to take what they have available," he grumbled, striding out of the terminal. This time it was my turn to laugh. I was relieved I wouldn't be sleeping in the airport, but it was pretty hilarious to see the normally easygoing Grant losing his cool.
We boarded the rental car company's shuttle and my laughter quickly turned into one yawn after another. The swaying motion of the shuttle bus combined with the snow falling outside lulled me back into my lethargic state. Something about watching snow dropping from the sky had always given me a warm, cozy feeling. It would have been a perfect time to curl up in bed with a good book and hot chocolate.
The shuttle driver stopped in front of what was literally the only car left on the lot. Teeny tiny would be the best way to describe it. I couldn't help barking out in laughter after finally understanding the source of Grant's aggravation. It wasn't one of those Smart Cars, but it was pretty darn close.
"Not funny," Grant declared, wheeling his suitcase through the snow toward the car that looked smaller and smaller the closer he got to it. "I've seen riding lawn mowers with more room than this thing."
I burst out laughing again. He glared at me for a moment before his frown turned to a smile. Even Grant couldn't help laughing at the irony of the situation. A frigid gust of wind blew across the parking lot, sending a shiver down my body. The soft flakes of snow swirled around, pelting my face.
"Here, can you warm up the car?" he asked, handing me the keys while he stowed the luggage in what was supposed to be the trunk.
Only when I was sitting behind the steering wheel of our micro car did the humor of its size lose its luster. We would be cramped driving five miles in this sardine can. Nine hundred plus miles was going to suck. Even with only two of us in the car, we would be practically on top of each other. This was going to be as close to torture as I had ever come.
"I would have driven," Grant said, shaking the snow off his head as he opened the passenger door.
My eyes focused on the stray lock of hair that fell across his forehead. He had great hair for a guy. It was auburn with a lush fullness that would make most girls jealous. I would be embarrassed to admit how often I had dreamed about running my fingers through it.
I reluctantly forced myself to look away. I could NOT fall for Grant again. He had already unknowingly broken my heart once. I would be wise to remember that. Who cares if we were only thirteen years old? A broken heart was a broken heart. Besides, he aggravated the crap out of me, which meant he wasn't Mr. Right.
Oblivious to the jumbled thoughts in my head, Grant adjusted his seat, sliding it as far back as it would go before he climbed in. Even still, his knees were practically in his lap.
"I feel like I'm on a kiddie ride," he complained, adjusting the incline of the seat to try to gain a little more comfort.
"Make sure to keep your arms and legs in the vehicle at all times," I teased, plugging my phone into the charger so I could use the GPS on my phone without draining the battery. Once I selected "Home" from my favorites list, Mona (the name I gave the robotic voice on my phone), started spouting out directions.
"I figured I'd drive until we hit the next town since Ms. Personality claimed the hotels around here are all booked," I told Grant as I drove away from the airport.
"Sounds good," he said, shifting in his seat as I pulled onto the main road. I drove for less than a mile when I turned my blinker on.
"I hope a drive-thru is okay?" I asked, turning into the parking lot of a popular fast food chain.
"That's fine," he said as I pulled behind a heavy-duty truck that dwarfed our small car. The line moved fast and soon we were back on the road. Grant had the juggling act of passing me my food while trying to eat his own, but neither of us wanted to go inside the restaurant. I started to feel more human after I downed my burger and fries. I switched lanes until I was farthest to the left, which I considered my comfort lane. Like the parking lot at Enterprise, the highway was pretty much empty except for an occasional oversized semi-truck.
"This is comfy," Grant said, stowing our trash in the minuscule backseat. He shifted his legs to a suitable position, which happened to be intimately close to my right leg. I debated moving, but that would have been obvious, and possibly lead to an awkward conversation. Instead, I tried to ignore the voice in my head telling me how good his leg felt against mine.
Neither of us talked as the city lights faded away and the night swallowed our lone vehicle. I kept my eyes on the road ahead of me, afraid if I looked at Grant it would start a conversation. It's not like I didn't want to talk to him. I just felt our current driving arrangement was intimate enough without initiating a conversation in the cloak of darkness. A part of me wished he would go to sleep so I could relax a little.
"Are you okay driving?" he asked, making me jump. In all my deep thoughts of not wanting a conversation, I wasn't ready when he initiated one.
"I'm good for now. I'm hoping we'll find a decent hotel there," I said around a yawn as I pointed to a gas station billboard stating the next exit was in twenty-five miles. Despite how tired I was, I felt I could make it.
