Page 4 of Return

“Vivian, you’re coming with me, because there’s no way I’m leaving you here to sleep on an airport floor.” When he realized his tone was a little too demanding and forceful, he aimed for a quick recovery. “Victor would kill me if I did that.”

She didn’t debate that fact. They both knew he was right.

“I appreciate the offer, and truly, if there’s no couch, rollaway, or chair, I’ll take the floor. Since I was planning to do that here anyway.”

Hell would freeze over before he let her sleep on a hotel floor, but they could have that debate later, once they got out of this godforsaken airport.

“So… Roommates for a night?” he asked, as he bent down to grasp the handles of both their carry-on bags.

“Temporary refugees,” she corrected.

“That sounds much more dramatic. I like it.”

“We are facing down a coming storm,” she reminded him.

The hurricane was currently battering the Maryland coastline, but it was steadily creeping its way north. Forecasters predicted that by the time it reached them, it would be downgraded to a tropical storm, so…silver linings and all that shit.

Vivian turned, leading the way toward the exit. Pulling out her phone, she clicked the screen. “Should I order a ride-share for us?”

He nodded, and for the first time since the departures board turned red, Dean’s stress lifted. Maybe tomorrow would still be a mess. But at least tonight, neither of them would be facing it alone.

The ride-share crawled through rain-slicked Boston streets, windshield wipers fighting a losing battle against the steady downpour. Dean hated to think what the actual storm would look like when it arrived if this was just the prequel.

Traffic was thick with stranded travelers, as well as locals fighting through the end of rush hour, everyone trying to reach someplace warm and dry. Neither of them talked much during the ride. After a day of canceled flights and endless waiting, comfortable silence seemed easier than conversation.

The Harbor Crest’s lobby looked almost as chaotic as the airport. Guests crowded around the front desk while soaked suitcases dripped on the polished marble floor. Someone’s toddler cried as another family argued over room keys.

Dean checked them in, accepting the two keycards with a grateful nod before walking back toward Vivian. She was hovering outside the hotel restaurant, looking at the menu posted on the door, her expression so hungry that he almost laughed.

“You want to know if we got two beds before we go up, or do you want to be surprised?” He was trying to make a joke, hoping to lighten the moment before he had to break the news that they’d been given a king-sized bed…with no couch and no rollaway options.

Her stomach answered for her with an audible growl, and Vivian pressed a hand against it. “I vote for food first. Then I’ll be much better prepared for whatever surprise greets me in the room.”

He laughed. “Surprise it is, then. When was your last meal?”

“If you count a granola bar I packed in my purse as breakfast, that was the last meal. I meant to grab something at the airport, but I never had a chance, thanks to waiting in lines and hustling between terminals.”

“I had a piece of toast at my aunt’s house around nine. She lives about an hour and a half outside of the city. I hit some nasty traffic on the way to the airport, and by the time I returned the rental car, I was cutting it close on boarding. Not that it mattered. They canceled the flight shortly after I arrived, which was when I hopped in that eternal line.” He checked his watch. “Jesus. It’s seven-thirty.”

“No wonder I’m about to start chewing on the luggage,” she joked.

Dean grinned. “I’m not far behind you.” He gestured at the menu she’d just been looking at. “You good with eating here, or should we order in something from delivery?”

The scent of grilled steak, roasted garlic, and fresh bread hit them both at the same time, making the decision an easy one.

“Let’s have mercy on the delivery guys. Here is just fine.”

He gestured to the entrance, following her to the hostess stand. A few minutes later, they were seated in a quiet corner booth, their carry-on bags parked beside the table like loyal traveling companions.

Dean barely looked at the menu. “I could probably eat two entrées all by myself.”

Vivian smiled. “I was thinking the exact same thing. I’m starving and it all looks so good.”

Dean winked when he realized she was already perusing the last page of the menu. “I won’t judge if you order dessert first.”

She laughed. “I appreciate your support, but I’m not worried about running out of room. Tonight, I’m definitely having dessert.”

Their drinks arrived almost immediately, and Dean took a long swallow of his ice-cold beer before letting out a satisfied sigh. “That might be the best thing I’ve had all day.”