Page 6 of One Little Kiss
“Talkative,” she finally settles on, narrowing her gray eyes that sparkle with flecks of gold and turquoise.
“Yeah, well, my family has a communication problem, so I’ve made it my mission to correct that. I might overcompensate for them sometimes.”
Communication problem is an understatement I don’t need to get into, either. All three of my attached brothers almost lost their girls because they didn’t know how to hold a conversation, but I keep that to myself.
“Fair enough. You’re not trying to hit on me, are you?” The sexy way her lips curl at the corners as she teases has me leaning even closer because, yes. Yes, I am most definitely hitting on her.
Playfully, I grab at my heart. “Ugh. I’m wounded. Why on earth would I want to hit on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”
“You’re trouble, too, I see.” Her eyes glint and her tone is mischievous. I realize with a start that she has no idea who I am. I’m not offended. If anything, I feel relief. When you’re a Westbrook, it’s hard to know if someone is into you for you, or your bank account. It’s a rarity to meet someone that has no connection to my daily life.
“Always,” I say with a crooked grin and hold out my hand. “I’m Colton.” I hesitate for a moment, then decide to go with my middle name for now. “Colton Montgomery.” Finally, my stuffy middle name comes in handy, but this way, if she Googles me, she won’t get the gossip column full of half-truths. The thought of getting to know someone without preconceived notions is thrilling. I like it much more than I should. “It’s nice to meet you …”
My mystery woman releases a breath neither of us realized she was holding and slips her palm into mine. “Wendalyn. It’s nice to meet you, Colton.”
The second her skin touches mine, time stands still. It’s not a shock so much as an awakening.Wendalyn? I think my lungs just collapsed, and I swear I hear GG cackle. “Um,” I swallow, and it sounds like a frog during mating season. “Like Wendy?”
She pulls her hand from mine. “Not if you expect me to answer you. It’s Wendalyn. Not Wendy.” She’s not cold, but she’s decisive. I like that. A lot.
“Thank God,” I say in a whoosh.
“Not a fan of Wendy either?” She laughs, and it’s a melodic sound I could grow addicted to.
“More like, I’m not ready for Wendy. So, Wendalyn, where are you off to today?”
I watch as her pen tap, tap, taps against her knee. She’s watching me. Scrutinizing me. Evaluating me. I’ve never wanted to be a mind reader more in my life.
“I was headed to the beach,” she says evasively, “but they rescheduled my flight, so I’m studying.”
“Is it rescheduled soon?” Mentally, I remind myself to check my flight.Will they actually fly out in this shit storm?
Wendalyn sighs, and I greedily breathe in her scent.Well, that’s a new one. When have I ever been greedy about sniffing someone?
“Not until tomorrow.” My gaze is on her lips as she speaks, so it takes a moment to register her words. When I do, I snap my eyes to hers.
Caught red-handed, staring at her sexy, plump lips I’d love to taste, and I’m not the least bit embarrassed.
“Why are you sitting here, then? Are you waiting for a ride?” I’m already pulling out my phone, knowing I can have a car here in minutes. Why I feel the need to do this for her is beyond me, but I don’t think about it too long.
Her pen pauses its assault on her leg and the confidence she carries wavers briefly before she slips her mask of indifference back in place. It was quick, but I saw it, and I’m invested.
“What? Am I missing something?” I ask, scanning the terminal. A few people mill about, but the crowd is rapidly clearing out.
She chuckles softly. “No, Colton. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sit here and study.”
She’s smart and beautiful, but my shoulders take up residence next to my ears again. I’m not used to feeling tense like this, and I know immediately that I don’t like it. I don’t know why Wendalyn’s answers cause this reaction, but my heart beats against my chest like a colony of angry seagulls diving for a forgotten hotdog.
It’s unsettling. This feeling she’s causing is unnerving, yet I can’t walk away from her.
Tilting my head, I study her and love the light shade of pink that lingers on her defined cheekbones. “What do you mean? Don’t you want to get a room? There are a ton of hotels around here.”
“No. What about you? Is your flight soon?” Her answer isn’t curt, exactly, but I’m curious. Who, in their right mind, wants to stay in an airport terminal instead of a hotel?
Glancing to her right, I notice her suitcase for the first time. Navy blue. There’s nothing remarkable about it except for the light blue and bright pink ribbon she’s tied to the handles. It’s old and worn. Threadbare in places, but sufficient.
When she notices me staring, she slings her jacket over it, and that light pink across her cheeks turns crimson.
Fuck. Did I just embarrass her?
