Holiday with You - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,6
A: the little unicorn who rammed my car when hers spun out of control.
I shrug off my coat and give it to her. The woman must be freezing. Is she wearing anything underneath that ridiculous outfit? Who the hell is she?
She waves her hand. “Thank you. But I don’t want you to get cold because I’m unprepared.”
“You must be freezing in that . . . are you wearing pajamas?”
I swear Perry has a similar onesie.
She looks down at herself and laughs. It’s a light, musical sound that loosens the tension I’ve carried all week.
“I hate flying,” she answers.
I don’t understand how one thing relates to the other. “Scared of heights?”
“No. The seats are uncomfortable, the air smells weird, and there’s always some nonsense going on around me wherever I sit. It never fails,” she explains as she finally grabs my jacket and covers almost her entire body with it. “One time, there was this poor new mom who forgot diapers. Then there was the flight I took from LA to New York next to a toddler who couldn’t sit still—I couldn’t either. Today, I was next to a couple of loud friends who thought the entire plane should be a part of their conversation. This outfit is comfortable, and not many people approach me while I’m dressed like this because . . . what kind of person would wear this on a plane?”
“Great tactic.” I laugh.
“It didn’t work so well this time.” She sighs. “I had a videoconference call at the airport. This doesn’t scream professional. The airport’s air conditioning was off, so I was roasting while I waited for my flight to take off. And now . . .”
“Bad day, huh?”
She shrugs. “It’s a part of life. Days like today teach you to enjoy the good times.”
I extend my hand. “By the way, I’m Colin Bradford.”
“Audrey Reed,” she answers.
My entire body zings as our hands touch. I release her hand almost immediately, taking a step back. Desire vibrates in my body. What the hell, Bradford? This is not only unexpected but highly unusual. For the past twelve months, my life has been full with changing location, helping my little girl adapt to moving away from the people she's familiar with, and establishing myself here in Winter Valley. I haven’t had time to even think about women and attraction. Yet I can’t deny that although extremely quirky, this woman intrigues me.
Shaking my head, I look at the dark, lonely road, hoping Morgan arrives soon. The perks of being the brother of the town mechanic include free towing. The downside is he doesn’t care if I freeze my balls off while I wait for him.
“Sorry about the . . . I’m not used to driving in snow,” she mumbles after a long silence.
Her gaze moves from the collision to me. I hope Morgan can fix my car or lend me one of his trucks while it’s at his shop.
Please tell me she has insurance, or this will be a pain in the ass.
She offers me a confident smile. “Do you think the mechanic can repair it?”
“Probably. How long do you plan to stay?”
Before she can answer my question, Morgan arrives with the tow truck. He tosses me a pair of leather work gloves. “Help me get her car on top while I hook the chains to yours.”
He glances at Audrey and snorts. “Why don’t you get inside the tow truck, miss?” Morgan tilts his head toward the open cabin.
She hesitates. Who would want to get in a truck with two strange men? Well, Morgan is strange anyway.
“Is all your luggage in the trunk?” my brother asks.
That seems to spark her back to life. “Yes.” She moves toward her smashed car. “I only have one bag.”
And she doesn’t sound happy about that.
“I’ll get it.” I'm already walking before I finish the sentence.
She pauses with her hand on the door handle. “Thanks. I need to grab my laptop and purse.”
We stare at one another for a split second. But it’s long enough for Morgan to take notice. “The trunk opens a lot better if somebody presses a button to pop it.”
Pink creeps up her cheeks, and she jumps into action. “Right.”
Morgan is going to give me so much hell for this later.
She opens the door and leans inside. There’s a thunk, and the trunk lifts a fraction.
“What does a unicorn put in her suitcase?” Morgan clanks the chains as he loosens them from the wench.
I’m not sure if I want to punch him