Mail-Order Brides For Christmas - Frankie Love Page 0,67
pop my bubble of strange contentment. I’ve decided that I’m really going to give this a chance, and see what happens. I can always get back on a plane to New York if it doesn’t work out. What have I got to lose?
After a while, I open my eyes, not even realizing that I had closed them in the first place. The snoring man is gone. With a jolt, I realize that, actually, everyone is gone. A flight attendant is smiling pointedly at me.
“We’ve arrived in Snow Valley, ma’am,” she says through her grinning teeth.
“Oh, shit!” I exclaim, gathering up my water, chips, blanket, magazine, phone, and purse as if I’ve been living on the plane for weeks. “I’m so sorry, I must have dozed off and not realized it.”
“Happens to the best of us,” the flight attendant says. She helps me bring down my bags from the overhead compartment and holds out a trash bag for my water bottle and chips.
“Thank you!” I say as I hobble off the plane with my bags in tow. I give her one last wave, take a deep breath, and proceed down the long tunnel leading to the gate.
With every step, I feel my excitement build. If I didn’t have so many damn bags, I’d be sprinting down the tunnel like a kid entering Disney World. The man I’m going to meet is named Matt--that’s all I know about him. I want to know more. I need to know more.
I finally emerge from the tunnel into the airport itself. I cast my gaze around, looking for any man who looks like he’s looking for me. I’m nearly bowled over by an impossibly-attractive man in a well-cut suit, standing with his hands in his pockets like he’s an Armani model. He’s tall and fit, black-haired and blue-eyed, his features chiseled as if from marble. My heart sinks a little. There’s no way that he’s the man I’m looking for.
But there’s no one else around…
“Jenna?” the ridiculously beautiful man says.
Holy shit, I think. He’s looking for me!
I throw my hand into the air and wave it madly. I’m in such shock that I stumble over the words as I say, “You must be Matt!”
He smiles as I walk towards him on legs made of jelly. He’s even more handsome up close, which I didn’t think was possible. He holds out his hand and I place mine in it, hoping he doesn’t notice that it’s trembling.
Is it just me, or does something Happen, with a capital ‘H’?
My hand sizzles a bit and my heart flutters. I shake my head and laugh a little as I withdraw my palm. My heart is drumming insistently in my ears, and my cheeks are heated, but I roll my eyes inwardly. You’re being dramatic as always, Jenna, I tell myself. But when I meet his gaze, he’s looking at me intently, as if he, too, felt something when our hands touched.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say to break the silence. His full lips curve into a smile. I wonder helplessly what it’s like to kiss those lips, or to have them trail love bites down my body…
“It’s good to meet you, too, Jenna,” he says, and my name in his mouth sounds like a song. His gaze flickers up and down my body, almost imperceptibly, and I feel my face flush. God, I must look like such a mess. My hair is limp around my face, having spent most of the flight in a messy bun on top of my head. I’m sure my clothes are wrinkled, and there are probably crumbs down my shirt. Standing next to him, in his dark suit and crisp white shirt, I must look homeless.
But he doesn’t laugh at me, or turn tail and run. Instead, he politely says, “Can I help you with your bags?”
I can’t help but grin in relief. “I’d love that.”
I watch his eyebrows inch towards his hairline as he takes my suitcase, duffel bag, and giant purse. All, of course, are in my favorite pattern. “Do you like leopard print?” Matt asks casually, but there’s a hint of teasing in his words.
“Not at all,” I reply, tossing my hair playfully. When he laughs, I say, “No, I love it. Fully fifty percent of my wardrobe is leopard, I’ll have you know.” I consider this statement and revise it. “Or tiger. Or zebra.”
He gasps in mock horror as we walk through the terminal. I giggle. Matt looks so buttoned-up