Taylor had decided to make a minimalist move, without baggage. She’d kept her condo in Fort Collins and had it listed on Air BNB. It seemed to be a smart investment. She already had her first guest booked for next week. Taylor would be staying at the Residence Inn in Atlanta until she found an apartment or maybe even a house.

Her enthusiasm was lacking to say the least. Her boss at the station had sensed her mixed feelings about the move. If you ever change your mind, you’ll always have a job here as the weather girl.

She sighed. The weather wasn’t the issue. Taylor loved the weather. Loved everything about it. But she hadn’t gone to college to get stuck being the weather girl. She needed to at least have the option for advancement. There weren’t many options for advancements at RMTV.

Everything she was taking with her to Atlanta was in the belly of the plane. She’d cheated and left a few sentimental items at her mother’s house. Her mother kept things like her high school yearbooks and a painting of a mountain thunderstorm painted by a guy sitting on the back of a pickup truck at a festival two years ago. And of course, there was a stack of novels that she couldn’t bear to part with.

When her mother had started to psychoanalyze her minimalist move, Taylor had politely, but firmly, stopped her. Taylor didn’t want to think about anything that in any way reminded her of Brayden. Even the good memories brought a stab to her heart. Whoever would have thought that the one time in her life she’d climbed a tree, she’d been rescued by the love of her life?

Even now, she could remember the feel of his strong arms as he’d pulled her from the tree limb. She still had no clue how she would have gotten down if he hadn’t come along at just the right time.

To save her from the bear…

The bear…

Brayden was the bear. The bear had been Brayden.

She huffed out a breath. She’d never been in any danger, and he hadn’t corrected her. Of course, he couldn’t have. Shifters, it seemed, only revealed themselves to people they trusted and cared about.

She shook her head and turned her phone off airplane mode.

Seconds later, as the wheels touched down at the Atlanta airport, Taylor gathered up her things to make her way through the crowd to get off the plane. She hurried toward the concourse along with the other passengers to the luggage area.

She watched as loved ones greeted each other. Mothers and fathers hugging their adult children. Lovers with lingering hugs and kisses.

Taylor turned her gaze to the conveyor belts moving around and around, until what seemed like an eternity later, she spotted one of her own two pieces of red luggage. Setting her computer bag on the floor, she reached with both hands to grab the handle, but another bag came behind and bumped it out of her hands. Damn.

Her other smaller piece showed up seconds later. She grabbed it and tugged it off the belt. It may be smaller, but it certainly wasn’t any lighter. Maybe she’d packed a little too much in her luggage as part of her minimalistic move.

Jostled between two other people also grabbing for their luggage, she put her computer bag back on her shoulder and prepared to wait for her suitcase to come back around.

“Excuse me. Miss?”

Taylor ignored the distinctively male voice. She didn’t know anyone here. A second later he spoke again, “Taylor Stone?”

Taylor turned and saw a man, medium height with a short beard, smiling at her. She frowned. She didn’t know him. Surely her reputation as a TV weather girl in Colorado hadn’t followed her all the way to Atlanta. He shrugged. “You looked like you could use some help.”

It was only then that she noticed that her large red suitcase was standing next to him and his fingers were wrapped around the handle.

“Of course,” she said, reaching for her bag. “Thank you.” Wasn’t this against some kind of southern chivalry that she’d heard about, helping someone with their luggage when they hadn’t asked? A shiver ran up her back that this man had paid enough attention to her to grab her suitcase off the conveyor belt, check her name, and bring it to her.

“It’s no problem.” He insisted. “Do you need some help getting these out to your car? Or a taxi? I’m an Uber driver if you need a ride.”

“No.” Taylor shook her head and attempted to get away, but there were too many people. “I appreciate your help, but truly, I can manage.”

With her computer bag weighing down one shoulder, pulling a suitcase in both hands, she headed for the taxi area. She could not – would not - give in to the tears that filled her eyes and threatened to spill out. I don’t belong here. She lifted her chin. This was going to be a grand adventure. She was going to be on the Weather Channel. It was a dream come true.

But the weight of being there, alone, was almost more than she could bear.

It’s better to be here than in Colorado where I might run into Brayden. Seeing Brayden right now, especially if he was with someone else, would be unbearable.