Page 6 of The Rebel

“I’m supposed to be heading to the airport now. The flight has only been delayed by three hours.”

“I think your airline is being a little too hopeful.” She pulled out her phone, showing me the radar on the Weather app. “They’re expecting over forty inches. We’re going to be snowed in.” She gave me a hesitant smile. “For days.”

“They’ll clear the runway.”

“Maybe, out of protocol, but they’ve already canceled all the flights for today.”

I assumed she was talking about the commercial flights, but private was a whole different animal.

She didn’t need to know how I was flying, so I replied, “Aren’t you just the bearer of bad news?”

Still, I thought it was a good idea to check in with the pilot, given what she’d just told me, so I pulled out my phone, and there was a text from him on the screen. “Fuck.”

“I take it you just heard from the airline. And now, you finally believe me.” She gave me a smile, then laughter.

I liked them both.

Equally.

And far too much.

Which was something that shocked the hell out of me.

“Yes.” I shoved my phone in my pocket. “You were right.”

“I know, but look at it this way.” She paused to take the bourbon the bartender was handing to her. “Maybe you needed an unexpected vacation, and why not do it somewhere as beautiful as Lake Louise?”

I lifted my drink from the bar top, where it had been placed. “Aside from the fact that tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I have somewhere I need to be, I suppose you’re right.” I clinked my glass against hers. “Cheers.”

“To new holiday traditions.” She grinned. “Cheers.”

I watched her take a sip, the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, picturing the way it would move if my dick was between her lips. A warmth immediately filled her cheeks once the booze hit her, a color that looked exceptional on her.

So much so that I forced myself to look away and waited for the bartender to get close enough again before I said to him, “Do you mind sending over someone from the front desk?”

There was no chance I was getting up from this stool, risking Rowan leaving or someone trying to steal my spot.

He voiced, “No problem.”

Rowan held the glass near her mouth, the liquid sloshing against the sides as she circled the tumbler. “Something fun planned for the holiday?” She grimaced. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to miss a trip to Curaçao or Tahiti or somewhere tropical. Because that sounds positively magical right now.” She glanced toward the windows, where the small amount of glass was already snow-covered, and she turned back toward me. “Winter and I aren’t friends.”

“We’re not friends either unless I’m on a snowboard at the top of a mountain.”

She grinned. “Agreed.”

“No, I don’t have anything tropical planned for this holiday. Just a big family party that I’ve really been looking forward to.” I rubbed my fingers around the rim of the glass, the motion catching her attention.

First my lips.

Now my hand.

And it appeared she really enjoyed both.

“How about you?” I inquired.

“Same.” She sighed. “Siblings. Extended family. Andalllof their kids.”

I glanced at her left hand. “I’m assuming there’s no spouse … or boyfriend?”

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