Once we are on the ground, I wait until everyone is off the plane to make my way out into the terminal. I go to baggage claim and look around, but I have no clue what this guy looks like. All I know is that his name is Kenton and he is supposed to be picking me up.
I don’t see anyone who looks like they’re searching for someone, so I go to the conveyer belt and spot one of my bags as soon as I get there. I pull it off, stumbling back slightly from the weight as every guy here just watches me without offering to help.
I look around again, wondering if I’m supposed to call someone to tell them that I landed. I pull my phone out, click it off airplane mode, and send a text to Link, letting him know that I have arrived. He sends me a message back, letting me know that Kenton called and told him that he couldn’t make it to pick me up and I should just catch a cab to his house. The door would be unlocked, and the address is in the message.
I shake my head, cursing under my breath, and almost miss one of my other bags going around the belt. Luckily, I catch it at the last second. I carry it over to my other bag and turn around just in time to see my last bag about to go through the tunnel. I run as fast as I can in my flip-flops and land halfway on the conveyor belt. My bottom half is being dragged along the floor as I grab the handle of my bag, pulling it back so hard that it flies over me, causing me to land on my back with my hands over my head.
“You must be Autumn,” I hear rumbled from above me.
I tilt my head back and look up at the man standing over me. He’s upside down, but even from my awkward position, I can tell that he is good-looking. His chuckle makes me grit my teeth. I stand up, putting my bag on its wheels and dusting off my butt before turning back to face him.
“You are?”
He raises a brow at me, shaking his head, looking me over from head to toe. My body heats immediately under his gaze. I take my sweater off, wrapping it around my waist and clearing my throat.
“You are?” I ask him again, getting annoyed that he’s obviously finding this so funny, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
“Kenton.” He smiles. “Those bags yours?” He nods towards my other two bags.
“Yes.” I blow some hair out of my face, looking into his amber eyes and wondering why the hell I feel so hot all of a sudden.
He looks away, going over to my bags while I take the time to look him over. He’s tall, much taller than my five six. His hair touches the edge of the black T-shirt he has on. He needed a cut a while ago, but judging by the dark scruff along his jaw, I can tell that he doesn’t care much about grooming. His shoulders are broad, tapering down to a lean waist. His thighs are thick, encased in a pair of dark jeans that have shredded around the seams, and his wallet is imprinted in the back pocket like he wears them often.
I look at his ass as he leans over. I can’t believe I’m checking a man out; I’m not one to be the slightest bit sexually interested in anyone. My eyes travel lower, looking at his feet, which are encased in a very large pair of black boots. I wonder absently if what they say about shoe size is true. I shake my head at my thoughts, dragging my bag with me towards him.
“I thought you couldn’t make it,” I tell him when I reach his side. My head tilts back to look up into his eyes.
“Yeah, change of plans,” he mutters, looking at me.
I wait to see if he’s going to say anything else. Apparently, he isn’t going to, so I shake my head again and lower my face towards the ground.
“You tired?” His voice is dark and rich, and it does something crazy to my insides. I nod, lifting my head. “Let’s roll. You can sleep when we reach the house.”
I don’t say anything else. Something is wrong with me. Maybe I’m getting sick, I think, putting my palm to my forehead. When I don’t feel anything, I start to follow him out of the terminal to the car park.
When we reach the parking lot, he stops and pulls a set of keys from his pocket. I hear the beep and look around, expecting him to be driving a large truck, a Hummer, or maybe even a tank. I never expected him to be driving a Dodge Viper. The black-on-black of the car only makes it look hotter. I look at my bags, wondering how we will get them in the car.
“It’ll be tight, but they’ll fit,” he mumbles, pulling my other two bags with him.
I can’t help but notice the flex of his muscles as he gets my bags into the car or the fact even his fingers are attractive. It takes some maneuvering, but he does get my bags to fit. I sigh, sitting down on the warm leather once we’re done.
“I’m just gonna drop you off at the house. I gotta head out for a bit, but you have free rein. Just make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge and fresh sheets on the bed in the guest room.”
“Thank you for doing this,” I tell him, looking at his profile. He is seriously good-looking, and the butterflies in my stomach are making me feel anxious about staying with him.
“Don’t mention it. So…you and Link?”
It takes a second to decipher his words between the thickness of his accent, his smell, and the nervous energy I’m feeling. Being in his presence, my brain seems to have shut down.
“He’s a friend.” Shit, maybe I should have said that he was my boyfriend.
I look over at him again; he doesn’t seem to be as on edge as I am. He’s probably used to women swooning over him. My gut tightens with something, and it takes a second to realize what it is. My body freezes. Jealousy? Really? I must be going into shock or something. I don’t get jealous.