Chapter One
Valentine’s Day, three years and seven months ago.
She caught his eye the moment she sat across from him in the Denver airport terminal. It wasn’t her gorgeous blonde hair or her long, slender legs or the hourglass curve of her waist and hips or even the firm, ample breasts shaped beneath the long-sleeve turtleneck top that held Connor Prescott’s attention. No, it was her big, dark brown eyes and her tentative smile as their gazes met for a brief second before she glanced down at the cell phone in her hand.
That quick glimpse at her pretty face was just enough for him to catch the subtle heartache in her expression that no woman ought to be feeling on Valentine’s Day, and he found himself curious as to what had caused that show of vulnerable emotion.
While she scrolled through her phone with a slight frown marring her brows, he looked at her left hand. There wasn’t a ring on her finger, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t already taken. But it definitely gave him a bit of hope that maybe they could get to know each other better, because with the snowstorm rolling into Denver that afternoon, he had a feeling it was going to be a long night at the airport.
They hadn’t cancelled his flight to Chicago, where he lived. Yet. But Connor was pretty sure that’s where things were headed, especially with the snow flurries starting outside. The incoming flight to this gate was already delayed, and by the time it landed and passengers disembarked, he was betting that the airport would have made the decision to stop all flights for the night.
It was supposed to be one of those quick and dirty blizzards, the kind that dumped a good twelve to twenty inches of snow in a short period of time. Most likely, by tomorrow in the late afternoon or evening, the runways would be cleared, the planes deiced, flights would have resumed their regular schedules, and the thousands of people at the airport would be scrambling to rebook their seats to their destination.
But for now, it was a sit-and-wait situation. Maybe they’d get out before everything was shut down . . . and maybe not.
He returned his attention to the stranger sitting across from his seat, just in time to see her avert her gaze away from him and bite her lower lip as she looked at her phone again. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. So, she’d been checking him out while he’d been looking out the window at the weather. Definitely a positive sign.
He was just getting ready to strike up a casual conversation, but before he could say anything, she abruptly stood, grabbed the handle of her carry-on luggage, and walked away from the sitting area at their gate. He watched her go—and damn, those black jeans she wore drew his gaze to the perfect, rounded curves of her ass. He debated whether or not to follow and decided against it so he didn’t look like a complete stalker. Most likely, she was going to the ladies’ room and would return in a few minutes.
Except she didn’t come back. Half an hour later, his cell phone buzzed with an alert from the airlines, notifying him that his flight had been cancelled. No big surprise there. That message was followed by an announcement over the intercom informing travelers that the entire airport was now shut down until tomorrow morning, or afternoon, depending on how fast the storm blew through. He was stuck in Denver for at least another twenty-four hours.
The last thing Connor wanted to do was sleep on one of the uncomfortable chairs or on the floor with a few thousand other people. He quickly got online, looked up the Westin Denver International Airport Hotel, which was connected directly to the airport terminal, and tried to book a room. He could have walked there, but in the twenty minutes it would take to get to the adjoining hotel, he was fairly certain every room would be gone. As it was, the only thing left that he could get was an executive two-bedroom suite, which was a small fortune and more space than he needed, but hey, the guys—his partners at Premier Realty—had elected to send him to Denver on company business, so tough shit, he thought, and didn’t hesitate to book it.
Room secured, he texted his sister, Natalie—who was supposed to pick him up when he landed—to give her an update on his situation, then waited around another half an hour like an infatuated teenage boy to see if the intriguing stranger came back, only to be met with extreme disappointment.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d missed lunch and he was no longer just hungry but starved. He picked up his travel bag and headed down the concourse toward the hotel, trying to decide where to eat. Every place was jam-packed since so many people were stranded, and he didn’t want crappy fast food. Being served a substantial burger and a beer was his preference before he checked into his room for the rest of the afternoon and night.
He came across Boulder Beer Tap House, and bingo, he’d found his restaurant. He made his way inside and was told he could seat himself—and he would have if there had been room at the bar or a vacant table anywhere in the place.
And then fate smiled upon him. Sitting alone at a small, two-seat table in the corner of the restaurant was his beautiful blonde. And the fact that she was eating a burger and drinking a glass of beer, well, he was almost in love because she was his kind of girl. Unassuming. Down-to-earth. Unpretentious. A woman who enjoyed a hearty meal and a dark ale over a diet-conscious salad and a frilly cocktail.
Allowing a charming smile to curve his lips, he started in her direction. After taking a bite of her burger, she wiped her mouth with her napkin as she glanced up, clearly looking right at him as he approached. He didn’t miss the awareness that flashed through her eyes or the subtle attraction as her gaze took in the width of his muscled chest beneath the navy blue long-sleeve Henley he wore. Surprisingly, her appraisal didn’t stop there . . . No, it did a slow, appreciative perusal down the rest of his body, then back up again.
He was a big guy. Everywhere. Tall and solidly built from manual labor, with linebacker shoulders he’d put to good use in college and long legs that completed his six-foot-five frame. He’d already estimated that he was close to six inches taller than she was the moment she stood up back at the gate, and he could easily imagine how perfectly she’d fit against him, in all the right places.
By the time he’d reached her table, her head was tipped back to look up at his face, her eyes wide with surprise that he’d sought her out. And then she absently licked her bottom lip, and fuck, the action was so guileless, and so damn hot. His dick twitched at the thought of that sexy mouth and that soft, pink tongue wrapped around his cock. Jesus, it had been a long time since he’d had such a visceral reaction to a woman . . . and he welcomed it . . . and sent up a small prayer in hopes that she was single so he could pursue the chemistry that was clearly mutual.
She was still staring at him with those big brown eyes, curious and unsure, and he broke the silence hanging between them. “The place is a little busy and you’ve got the only free seat in the house,” he said, indicating the vacant chair across from her. “Mind if I join you?”
She paused for a moment, just long enough for Connor to catch a quick glimmer of wariness and uncertainty in her expression. He braced himself for a rejection—there was obviously something going on with her—but then she gave her head a shake and the emotions cleared.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I just . . . You caught me off guard. Of course you can join me. Have a seat.” The warm, sweet smile she gave him made up for her previous hesitation.
He grinned back at her as he settled himself in the wooden chair and dropped his duffel bag at his feet. “I’m Connor,” he said, stretching his hand across the table toward her—to introduce himself, and because selfishly, he wanted to touch her and feel the connection between them.
She quickly wiped her hand on her napkin, looking adorably chagrined as she returned the gesture. “Sorry, my fingers are kind of greasy from the burger. I’m Katie.”
“No worries. I’m all about a good greasy burger.” He shook her hand, holding on a little longer than necessary, enjoying the softness of her skin and the slight hitch to her breath and the flare of awareness in her gaze as he skimmed his calloused thumb across her knuckles before letting go.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Katie,” he said, releasing her hand. “Thank you for letting me crash your meal. I’m starved and it’s obviously going to be a long night.”
“True,” she agreed, revealing she was also aware of the airport shutting down for the night. “And I really don’t mind sharing the table, though I can’t guarantee that I’m great company right now, so I apologize ahead of time if I’m not very . . . personable.”
Which explained the range of emotions she’d already displayed thus far. “Bad day?” he asked, tipping his head curiously.
She glanced down at her plate and tried for a casual shrug, but it was weighted by something much heavier. “Yeah, you could say that.”
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, and then their waitress came by the table, clearly frazzled by how slammed the restaurant was.
“Do you need a menu?” she asked Connor.
“Nope.” Wanting to make things as easy as possible for the stressed-out server, he pointed to Katie’s plate. “I’ll have exactly what she’s having. The burger and the beer.”
“And I’ll have another one of these,” Katie said, tapping her nearly empty glass of ale.
“Thank you,” the young girl said, relieved that they’d given her a simple and straightforward order before she moved on to the more demanding customers sitting at the next table.
He returned his attention to the lovely woman sitting across from him as she finished off her beer. “So, you come here often?” Yeah, it was a cheesy line, but it was a good icebreaker.
The corner of her mouth quirked with amusement. “To this restaurant, or Denver?”
He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, liking this feistier side to her personality. It was so much better than the wariness. “Denver,” he clarified. “Do you live here or are you leaving after a visit?” It was a casual question, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fishing for more personal information, because it would be much easier to see her again if they at least lived in the same city.
Yeah, he was already thinking that far ahead, because there was something about Katie that sparked an interest he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. It was that combination of sweetness along with the few glimpses of vulnerability he’d already seen that fascinated him and stirred that protective nature of his. He wasn’t sure why she evoked those emotions, but it was enough for him to want to pursue her and see where it might lead.
The humor he’d coaxed from her moments ago evaporated. “I’m leaving Denver . . . after being utterly humiliated,” she admitted. “I’m heading back to Chicago, where I live, because I seriously need to reassess my life and make some changes.”
Her unexpected reply took him aback and had him wondering what, exactly, had happened to her. Katie’s fluctuating emotions now made sense, but he could tell there was a whole lot more to her story. Just when he decided to ask, their waitress came by with their beers and his hamburger, stealing the moment away from him.
As well as giving Katie the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “What about you?” she asked before taking a drink of her chilled beer.
Clearly, she wasn’t going to elaborate on those life changes she felt compelled to make. There was no doubt that Connor wanted to know her secrets, but he also wanted her to share them freely. “I was here on business attending a conference on real estate investments,” he told her as he piled the lettuce, tomato, and pickles on the thick meat patty, then pressed the bun back on top before picking up the burger for a big bite.
He chewed, swallowed, and continued. “I live in Chicago, as well.” Then he gave her a sympathetic look. “And I’m really sorry about whatever happened to humiliate you.”
She leaned back in her chair, her pained expression quickly becoming eclipsed by a slow-building anger as she considered the situation. “Honestly, I should have seen it coming.”
“Seen what coming?” he asked after another bite, gently providing her with the opportunity to open up, because he could see that she was struggling with the desire to give that frustration inside of her some kind of outlet.
Lips pursed, she shook her head and glanced away. “Trust me, it’s a long, completely embarrassing story that no guy wants to hear.”
“Try me.” She remained skeptical, and he was suddenly determined to prove her wrong about him not caring about her bad day. “I’ve got all night. Literally. And so do you, now that our flight has been cancelled. And if it makes you feel any better, I swear that whatever you say in Denver will absolutely stay in Denver.” Grinning at her, he made a small cross over his heart with his index finger to seal the promise, and counted the tiny peek of a smile that appeared on her lips as a small victory.
“You’re very . . . persuasive.”
He shrugged as he finished off his burger, his appetite sated for now. Pushing aside his plate, he braced his forearms on the table in front of him. “Honestly, I just think it might help to get whatever is bothering you off your chest. Blow off some steam and release all that stress and aggravation so you can breathe again without feeling like someone is sitting on your chest.”
She nodded absently. “It does feel that way,” she admitted.
“No pressure,” he said, putting both his hands up in an easygoing gesture, though he wasn’t below trying a little reverse psychology. “But I also understand if it’s something you don’t want to discuss.”
She tipped her head to the side and eyed him perceptively as he took a drink of his beer. “You’re a stranger, and I don’t even know you, at least not well enough to share something so personal with you.”
He was hoping to change all that over the course of their time together, which was at least the next twenty-four hours. “Even better, don’t you think? Who am I going to tell your story to that it’ll matter?”
“That’s true,” she murmured, seemingly considering his offer to listen. As she thought it over and drank her second beer, he watched as she sat up a bit straighter in her chair and her chin lifted with a spark of rebellion.
“You know what? You’re right,” she said, her voice firm and determined, matching the sudden flash of defiance that lit her eyes. “I do want to talk about it, because I’m so done letting that jerk make me feel like what happened is all my fault when he’s the one who screwed up.”
He raised his brows in surprise over her pronouncement, but there was no denying he really liked this new, gutsy attitude of hers. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
She downed the rest of her beer, probably for extra fortitude, Connor guessed. “I came to Denver to surprise my boyfriend of eight months for Valentine’s Day because I thought he was on a business trip this weekend and would hopefully have the evening free. And since things have been strained between us, and more than a little . . . lackluster in the bedroom lately, I thought I’d surprise him and spice things up with some fantasy sex.”
That was the last thing he’d expected her to say and he tipped his head to the side curiously. “Fantasy sex?” he asked, dying to know what she deemed a worthy fantasy.
The color on her cheeks pinkened, but much to his delight, she didn’t back down from the question. “You know, role playing. The whole sex-with-a-stranger thing in a hotel room. It sounded fun and exciting and I stupidly thought it was just what we needed to get our relationship back on track again.”
He almost hated to ask . . . “But?”
Her lips pursed for a moment. “But when I knocked on his door, he answered with a towel around his waist. His hair was wet, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and I could still hear the water running in the bathroom. And of course he was shocked to see me because me being there was supposed to be a surprise, so his startled expression didn’t seem out of place. He blurted out that he thought I was the room service he’d ordered, and he wouldn’t step aside to let me in, which confused me at first.”
She paused, and Connor let out an empathetic groan, because he knew exactly where this story was heading and how it was going to end. He also knew the anger and pain of finding out that someone you were in a relationship with had betrayed your trust. He’d been there, done that, and it fucking sucked.
Katie shifted in her seat and bravely went on, even though he knew how difficult this next part had to be for her to say out loud. “So, while we’re standing there staring at each other, with me waiting for him to show some kind of sign that he was happy to see me, the shower in the bathroom turned off. And again, I stupidly thought, ‘How in the world did that happen when Brice was standing right in front of me?’, and then a woman with her own towel wrapped around her came into view and answered that question.”
Connor had known the outcome, but he swore beneath his breath anyway, because the hurt in her eyes made him want to punch Brice in the goddamn face for being a lying, cheating douchebag—and for humiliating Katie, instead of ending a relationship he obviously didn’t want to be in. Not to mention the damage to Katie’s dignity and self-esteem as a woman.
She wasn’t crying. Her eyes were dry, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling devastated. Then again, maybe she hadn’t been invested in Brice as much as she’d thought, either.
“So, once I got over my shock at realizing he was having an affair while on his business trip, Brice proceeded to tell me that he hasn’t been feeling it for a while now with me, and he was done. He didn’t display an ounce of guilt, and the only apology I got from him was that he was sorry I came all the way to Denver for nothing. Happy freaking Valentine’s Day to me, huh?” She met Connor’s gaze and shook her head. “I was a naive idiot for thinking that this surprise trip would magically make all our problems disappear.”
Without really thinking about his actions, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, enveloping it in his so she didn’t feel so alone. “You weren’t an idiot, Katie. He’s a selfish prick. If he wasn’t ‘feeling it,’ then he should have ended things with you before sticking his pencil dick into another woman.”
An unexpected snort of laughter escaped her, and instead of looking mortified at the slip, she laughed again, as if deferring to humor was just the right medicine she needed at this moment. “You’re right again. He’s an asshole and he doesn’t deserve me anyway. And ‘pencil dick’ isn’t too far from the truth, either.” Then she grinned. “Damn, that felt good.”
He smiled, too, glad to see her bounce back, though he knew it didn’t erase the humiliation she’d endured. “It’s the truth, Katie, and you’re going to be okay.” He knew that from experience, too.
“Yeah, I know,” she said on a sigh. “Like I said, in hindsight, I should have seen something like this coming. Now, I just want to get back to Chicago and pack up all his stuff from my place so I never have to see him again. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a long night, hanging out in the airport with too much free time to think and trying to find somewhere comfortable to sleep. I was really looking forward to a long, hot shower at home and being in my own bed tonight.”
Connor really tried not to think of Katie in either of those situations—naked in a shower with water running down her luscious, curvy body or her lying back on a comforter, that gorgeous hair of hers spread out over her pillow and her full, kissable lips parted as she slept—but his misbehaving brain had a mind of its own and had no issues projecting those sexy images in his head.
Okay, now who was the asshole? He had no business lusting over Katie when she’d just been dumped by her boyfriend, in quite an offensive way. In fact, he needed to show her there were some men who could be a gentleman, and Connor would like to think that was one of his better qualities. And even though his mind might have conjured up a hot, sexy scenario with Katie in the starring role, that’s all it really was . . . just a harmless fantasy that he might or might not think about when he got into bed tonight, closed his eyes, and wrapped his hand around his hard, aching—
“I wonder if the Westin has any rooms left for the night,” she said, putting a screeching halt on his thoughts as she retrieved her phone from her handbag to give them a call.
“Doubtful. They were pretty limited when I called about forty minutes ago to book my room.” Which reminded him that his suite had two bedrooms. “But lucky for you, I have a soft, comfortable bed you can sleep on and a nice hot shower to go with it.”
Her gaze jerked to his, and too late he realized just how suggestive his words sounded . . . like he was offering to share his bed with her. But right after the comment left his mouth, and before he could explain what he meant, their waitress stopped at their table.
“Can I get the two of you anything else?” she asked.
Connor glanced across the table at Katie, her eyes still wide as she shook her head to answer the waitress’s question.
“I think we’re both good,” he said, and as soon as the girl set the two separate checks on the table, he reached for them both and pulled out his wallet.
“Umm, I can pay for my own meal,” Katie told him.
After what he’d just said, she probably thought he was buying her dinner because he expected her to put out in return. But that wasn’t the case. He was just trying to be a nice guy and implement the manners his parents had drilled into him as a teenager.
“I’m paying for your meal because my father would kick my ass if I didn’t,” he explained with humor, and when her brows creased in confusion, he clarified further. “As soon as I was old enough to date, my dad taught me that it was my obligation as a man to pick up the tab when dining with a woman, because it was the polite, courteous thing to do. It doesn’t mean there are any strings or expectations attached,” he said, wanting to make that clear. “It’s just what I’ve always done, and now it’s a habit that’s pretty much ingrained.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, her expression softening. “Thank you, then.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said as he placed enough bills on the table to cover both checks, along with a generous tip, before addressing his earlier faux pas.
He lifted his gaze to hers more seriously. “So, about that offer I just made about a room . . . before you think I’m a total creep who just propositioned you, let me clarify that all the Westin Hotel had available when I called was a two-bedroom suite, and I booked it because I wasn’t about to hang out and sleep in the terminal until the storm passes. So, considering the day you’ve had, I’d like to offer you the extra room to stay in.”
She hesitated, which he understood, before asking, “Are you sure?”
He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice, and he discovered he liked being her white knight, the guy who came to her rescue after her dumb-ass boyfriend’s stupidity in letting her go. “I’m one hundred percent certain. Besides, it’ll be nice to have a roommate for the next twenty-four hours. We can celebrate Valentine’s Day together by watching cheesy movies on pay-per-view all night and gorging on all the junk food in the mini bar, then sleep off the sugar coma all tomorrow morning.”
She returned his grin, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Ahhh, cheesy movies and junk food. You sure do know how to sweet-talk a girl,” she teased.
He laughed as he pushed his chair back and stood. “And to think that you haven’t even seen some of my best moves yet,” he said with a flirtatious wink as he picked up his duffel and grabbed the handle of her luggage before she could. “Come on, Valentine. Let’s blow this joint and get our slumber party started.”