They headed for the doors, but Elyse reached out and touched his arm. “Wait,” she said.
“What’s wrong? Are you nervous?” Jack asked.
“A little. But I’m excited, too.” She glanced over at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “It seems like just yesterday we were swimming together and roasting hot dogs over a campfire. It’s like my life just rushed by without me noticing.”
Jack felt a lump of emotion fill his throat. He knew how hard it had been for her. After his father had died so many years ago, she’d put every ounce of her energy into providing for the family. There had been no dates, no men, no thought of remarriage. Just a single-minded desire to give her three children everything she possibly could.
But even though she’d denied any notion of romance, Jack knew that the line between friendship and love was very hard to navigate. “You’ll be fine,” he said, reaching out to give her a hug. “Just be yourself.”
“I feel like a silly teenager,” she said. “How am I supposed to be myself?”
They headed toward the sliding door that led outside. As they walked through, a slender woman with blond hair tumbled around her face ran into him, her body slamming against his chest.
She wore a black leather jacket and skinny jeans that clung to her long legs. Her hair was styled as if she’d just run her fingers through the waves after she’d crawled out of bed and her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head.
Jack grabbed her arms as she stumbled back and his gaze meet emerald green eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Sorry,” she murmured, stepping to the right just as he stepped to the left. They went back and forth a few times before he grabbed her again.
Then, they both froze and in an instant, their eyes locked. Jack felt a strange current running through his body, the warmth of her flesh seeping through the soft leather jacket. His breathing grew shallow and his mind suddenly lost its ability to form words. She was, in a single word, stunning.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t come up with anything worth saying. Introducing himself seemed a bit nervy. And asking if they might find a quiet spot to be alone was totally out of the question. What should a guy do in a situation like this?
Kiss her. Every instinct in his body urged him forward, but yet Jack knew that he couldn’t do that. She was a stranger and he fancied himself a gentleman.
“I—I really need to get inside,” she said. “I’m late.”
“Oh, right,” Jack mumbled. “Sorry. I—I’ll just get out of your—”
The moment he moved, she was gone, disappearing through the sliding-glass doors. He stepped back into the terminal to look for her, but she was already lost in the crowd. Somehow, at that moment, he realized he’d just let opportunity pass him by. What was this powerful attraction, to a complete stranger? And why now, of all days?
He was thirty-one years old and happily single, although not necessarily by choice. He’d always thought that he’d know when the right woman came along. But even after six years with Melanie, the spark just wasn’t there.
And here he was, nearly bursting into flames over a stranger. He cursed beneath his breath and brushed the image of the beautiful blonde out of his head, then walked back outside.
He found his mother standing at the curb, staring at a black Mercedes sedan. The hazard lights were on, but there was no one behind the wheel. Airport security had just pulled up and was examining the car.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ben said he’d pick me up in a black Mercedes sedan,” his mother said. She glanced down the long walkway. “I wonder where he went?”
Jack rolled his suitcase over to his mother. “Watch the luggage. Don’t talk to strangers. I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”
In truth, Jack was more interested in finding the blonde, but he knew she was probably long gone. He hurried back through the doors, searching the crowd for a guy who looked like the man he’d seen on Ben McMahon’s Facebook page. But as he wove through the waiting passengers, he caught sight of a familiar face.
There she was. The goddess, standing in a spot near some uniformed chauffeurs, holding a sign made out of crumpled paper. As he approached, he searched his brain for something to say. Maybe he should just be honest.
“I’d really like to get to know you? Would you be interested in meeting me for a drink?” he murmured to himself. That seemed a little forward. “Hey, it’s you again. Sorry for getting in your way. Maybe I can buy you lunch.”
He glanced down at her sign. Maybe he should just pretend he was the person she was looking for. Jack stopped short when he saw “QUINN” scrawled across the paper in ballpoint pen.
“I’m Quinn,” he murmured. He hurried up to her, then cleared his throat. “Hey, there. I’m Quinn.”
She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure you are.”
“No, I am,” he said.
“I’m here for an older woman named Elyse.”
“That’s me,” Jack said. “I mean, that’s my mom. I’m her son. She’s waiting outside. Elyse Quinn.”
She gave him a suspicious look, as if weighing the truth of his words against their previous encounter. “If this is just some come on, I really don’t have the—”
He held out his hand. “Hey, I’m not messing with you. I’m Jack Quinn, Elyse’s son.”
She took his hand, folding her fingers against his. The moment caused a tiny shock to rock his body. She had the most beautiful fingers and his mind automatically thought of what those hands might do to his body. He’d never realized that chauffeurs could be so sexy.
“I’m Mia McMahon. I’m Ben’s daughter.”
All his fantasies screeched to a halt and Jack tried to cover his stunned expression. “His daughter?” His mom had told him that Ben had three daughters, but he’d just assumed they’d be married, and living elsewhere. He searched her hand for a ring and found her fingers bare. For some reason, that made him happy.
She smiled warmly. “I’m sorry. My dad sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning. He’s hobbling around on crutches. He would have been here, but he can’t drive. So he asked me to look for your mother.”
“Well, she’s waiting outside. Let’s go,” Jack said, nodding at her.
She gave him a coy smile. “All right.” They wove their way back through the crowd and strolled out the door. But as they made their way back to the Mercedes, Mia took off at a run. The security officer was bent over the hood of the Mercedes, slipping a ticket beneath the wiper.
“No!” she cried, grabbing it and holding it out to him. “I’m here. I’m right here. We’re leaving.”
He held up his hands and shook his head. “Sorry. You can’t leave your car unattended. There’s no parking allowed here at all. You can circle and load, but no stopping to wait.”
“But I had to—”
“Nothing you say is going to make me rip up that ticket. You can mail the fine in to the address on the back.”
Mia shook her head as he walked away. “Great,” she shouted. She glanced down at the ticket. “A hundred and ninety-seven dollars? For five minutes?”
Jack walked up and took the ticket from her fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. It was our fault.”
“No!” she cried, grabbing the ticket back. “Don’t be silly. It was my fault.”
“It was my mother you were picking up,” he countered.