I race off the plane and rush as much as a person can through Customs. The new automated system that’s supposed to save time and manpower isn’t saving me any time. My flight from Heathrow arrived late. My time between connections is thin already.

Once my bag is rechecked, I take off at a full sprint toward my flight to Denver. I clutch my briefcase like a football and run through the concourse like a star receiver. My eyes focus on the gate numbers as I pass them one by one. A wheelchair shoots out from the elevator and forces me to navigate to the side. I run smack into a soft body.

My briefcase hits the floor. I reach both of my hands out to catch the woman I nearly plowed over. The whole world stops as I grab her bare arms to straighten her from toppling over.

She grabs my biceps and leans into me for purchase. I lean in and inhale. She smells like brown sugar and cinnamon.

“I’m so sorry.” I run my hands up and down her soft skin, checking to make sure I haven’t broken her. She’s a stunning brunette with hints of sun streaking through her long locks. Eyes the color of a new spring meadow stare at me in surprise. For what feels like a lifetime but passes in a second, we stand in silence to take the other in.

“It’s okay.” Her smooth voice floats over me like fine spun silk wrapping fibers around my body from top to toe. A tingle races through me and settles deep in my gut. I wonder if I’ve hurt myself. It’s not a sensation that I’m familiar with. It's a non-hungry rumbling in my insides like a thousand horses running wild. I tamp down my discomfort and attend to the woman before me.

“Are you okay?” Once again my hands travel up her limbs looking for bruises or abrasions, but the only red I see is the pink blush on her cheeks and the gloss on her lips. “I should have been paying closer attention, but I didn’t want to miss my flight.” I look at the gate behind her. “I’m headed to Denver.”

She licks her cherry red lips and sighs, “I’m not the only thing standing in the way of you reaching your destination.” She takes a look over her shoulder, then looks back at me. “All flights to Denver have been cancelled due to weather.”

“Are you sure?” I let go of her arms and take a step toward the counter. In big red letters the words Flight Cancelled scroll and flash across the screen.

“Yes. I’m sure.” She picks up my briefcase and hands it to me. “If you stand in line, they’ll reschedule you for tomorrow.”

I bend over and pick up her backpack from the floor. “Sorry I crashed into you like a car with no brakes.”

She takes the backpack and laughs. “It’s okay. I’ve always been easy to overlook.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

She hugs her backpack to her chest and smiles. “Good luck with your flight.”

A second later she disappears down the concourse.

I spend the next half hour at the ticket counter rescheduling . It turns out I’m not the only tornado running roughshod and claiming random victims. The skies above Kansas, Wyoming, and Colorado are swirling in a menacing fashion.

I leave the counter with a new ticket in hand, a reservation at the airport hotel, and a grumble in my stomach.

The lines for food are as long as the lines at the counter. There seems to be standing room only when I walk into Chili’s. I scour the restaurant for an open seat, and instead I find the beauty I bowled over sitting in the corner. She’s texting someone. Her fingers dance over the screen, and then she waits. She smiles. Texts more. Laughs. With what I hope is more finesse than last time, I approach her.

“Hey.” When I speak, she startles and looks up at me. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I thought since we already kind of know each other, maybe you’d be willing to share your table with me.”

“I wouldn’t call a hit and run a real introduction.” She looks down at her phone when it lights up.

“I don’t want to interrupt anything.” I glance down at the lit screen and wonder if it’s a boyfriend.

She picks it up and flashes the screen in my direction. “It’s my sister.”

My smile grows so wide my cheeks hurt. “I thought maybe it was…” The sentence hung there incomplete.

Her hair moves across her shoulders as she shakes her head. “No, I don’t have one of those.”

I lean on the back of the chair. “Shocking.” I hold out my hand to her. “I’m Hugh. Can I buy you lunch?”

There is a minute of indecision etched into her beautiful face and then her eyes soften. She lays her hand in mine and says, “I’m Katy. You don’t have to buy me lunch, but you can have a seat.”

That turmoil in my gut starts again. It isn’t an unpleasant feeling. More like an adrenaline rush on steroids. The same feeling I get when I sky dive.

“Well, Katy, the least I can do is buy you lunch since I almost killed you on the concourse.”

The light on her screen flashes again. She picks up her phone and shoots off a text. “Sorry, my sister is relentless.”

I take the seat to the side of her so we’re both facing the restaurant. Our legs touch, and a jolt of awareness surges through me. This woman affects me like no other.

“Older or younger sister?” I peel off the paper band from the silverware and unwrap the napkin to place in my lap.

“Older.”

“Protective?”

She laughs. Her eyes squint, and her lips purse as if she tastes the answer. “I wouldn’t say protective. I’d say she’s supportive.”

“That’s amazing. It’s nice to have family.”

“It is nice. By your accent I’ll assume you’re not from here. I’m going to guess England.”

“You have a good ear. I’m originally from London.” I raise my hand to get the waitress’s attention. “Can I get you a beer or a glass of wine?”

“Wine would be great.”

I call out a beverage order while the waitress breezes past us. “This place is busy.”

“It’s only going to get busier as more people get stranded.”

“Your flight cancelled too?”

“Like you, I'm Denver bound, so I suppose I’m now Atlanta stranded.” Her phone lights up again and Katy groans. She taps across the keys and sets her phone back down. “My sister wants to know what you look like.”

“You told your sister about me?”

A blush floats across the swell of her breasts. “Kind of. When I told her I was stranded, she bet me that I was tucked into the corner of a restaurant alone.”

“She knows you.”

The waitress drops off the drinks and disappears before I can order food.

“She can’t always be right, so I told her I was tucked up in the corner of a restaurant with a sexy Englishman.”

“You think I’m sexy?” I sip my beer and lick the foam from my lips. She watches the action with a look of curiosity and interest.

Her blush rises from her neck to her cheeks. “It’s the accent.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

Another text comes in and Katy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t believe me.”

“Let’s prove you right and her wrong.” I pick up her phone and scoot in so our bodies are touching. She leans into the crook of my neck and smiles as I snap the selfie and press send to her sister.

Katy picks up her wine. “Here’s to being right.”

We tap glasses and sit in silence until her screen lights up again.

“What did she say?”

I watch the rosy color in Katy’s cheeks turn crimson. “I’m not telling you.” She presses her palm over the screen to hide the reply.

“Oh come on, Katy, tell me.”

She slowly shakes her head. “I barely know you.”

“So change that. We have an entire night to know each other.” I look around the crowded restaurant. “No one is going anywhere.”