Page 2 of No Strings Attached
The phone rings twice before Gen answers.
“I’m on vacation, Henson,” she says flatly. I hear voices in the background.
I want to feel bad for bothering her while she’s with family, but she did tell me to call if it was urgent. And this is urgent.
“It’s great to hear your voice, too, Gen,” I drawl. “I need your help.”
She sighs, and I hear some shuffling before everything goes quiet. “What can I do for you, boss?”
“I’m stuck at the airport. My flight has been canceled, and I need to find a way to Nantucket.” I glance toward the front of the line just as a large group finally leaves the desk. We move up several steps, but I still can’t see the person behind the counter. I’m betting it’s either some young kid, completely overwhelmed by the crowd, or someone nearing retirement—something to explain why everything is moving slower than a snail’s pace.
“I thought you weren’t going home,” Gen says, confused.
“Yeah, well, I got manipulated by my brother’s guilt trip.”
I had planned on telling Mom that one of us needed to stay behind to make sure nothing went wrong at Worthwhile Construction during the holidays, but my brother twisted my arm and guilted me into going, as I rarely go back to our hometown now.
I love my family, but they’re…loud.
Just like this fucking airport.
It’s cramped and impossible to tune out.
Noise buzzes in my ears, setting me on edge. Someone brushes past me, jostling my arm, and my jaw tightens.
I shift from foot to foot, restless, unable to stand still for more than a few seconds.
A tap lands on my shoulder. Every muscle in my body coils tight.
Annoyed and half-expecting another walking biohazard like Mr. Garlic Man, I spin around with a glare sharp enough to cut steel, ready to rip into whoever’s decidednowis the time to interrupt my call.
At first, I look straight ahead, but no one’s there. Then, I lower my gaze.
And I almost choke on my own saliva. My mouth opens and closes two, three times, not able to say anything, my throat suddenly dry.
Standing before me is the most stunning—albeit also the shortest—woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She looks up at me, and I’m instantly lost in her big, round hazel eyes, framed by long, beautiful lashes that make her dark gaze even more captivating. Her black hair, perfectly curled as it falls down her back, practically begs for my fingers to run through it. The soft, glossy waves seem to shimmer under the airport lights.
She’s mesmerizing, and I can’t even string together a sentence to save my life.
What the hell is wrong with you, Hen?
A voice cuts through my haze. “Henson? Are you still there?”
Fuck. Genevieve.
“Yes. I’ll call you back,” I respond quickly, hanging up before she can say anything else.
“Wait! What about the?—”
I press end and shove the phone into my pocket.
The petite woman looks up at me with a sly smile. “Do you need to pee or something? I can hold your place if you hurry.”
I blink, completely taken aback.DoI need to pee?
“Wh-what?” I stammer.
Her smirk turns into a light chuckle, and I’m suddenly hot—really hot. I’m losing it. I must be sick. It’s the crowd.Yeah, that’sit. The overwhelming crowd is making me feel off-balance, not the woman standing in front of me.
