Page 5 of Cloud Nine Love

But the man I’d just met caused me to break my rule. One look into his eyes, and I moved my purse. I didn’t even think about doing it. It wasn’t a logical, deliberate response. It was involuntary, automatic, Pavlovian even.

That was unnerving enough in and of itself, but that was nothing compared to what I felt when our hands touched. No discomfort, mentally or physically. It was quite the opposite. I’d felt tingles of pleasure, not only at the point of contact but all through my body. The sensations had completely taken me by surprise. I’d been attracted to men plenty of times, but that attraction never overpowered my aversion. Until I knew someone, I could touch or be touched by them. I wasn’t sure what power this man had, but he’d somehow broken through my mental health barriers like the Kool-Aid man.

The entire encounter made zero sense. The only possible explanation was that he looked exactly like an actor I’d had a crush on for pretty much my entire life. Kyle Chandler. He got on most people’s sexy radars when he rose to fame for his portrayal of Coach Taylor in Friday Night Lights, but I’d had a massive crush on him since a show he did fifteen years before that, when he’d played Jeff Metcalf on Homefront.

Maybe that explained my body and mind’s response to him.

Or maybe it was lack of sleep. Over the past three days, I’d gotten maybe two hours of sleep. I’d just returned to the States from my final deployment and was trying to get back home, which was proving to be difficult due to the weather. I was doing everything I could to get back to my daughter, Harper, who I hadn’t seen in nearly nine months. There had been multiple canceled flights, delays, and even emergency landings. Maybe I was just delirious.

After rinsing off my face and neck, I waved my hand beneath the automatic paper towel dispenser, steeling myself to go back out to the bar, if only to collect my luggage, when my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I quickly dried myself and pulled it out. On the screen was a message from my little cousin, Kenna.

Kenna: Do you have your dress for the wedding yet?

In one week, I was going to be the Best Woman in the father of my daughter’s wedding. That might sound strange to some people, but Kane and I had been best friends for over a decade before we spent one drunken night together. In the morning, we put ourselves firmly back in the friend zone, the best friend zone, where we’d stayed even after I peed on a stick eight weeks later and found out I was expecting.

Me: No, Ruby picked it out. I’m going to a fitting next week.

Ruby Rhodes was the lucky lady who was marrying my BFF/baby daddy, and I couldn’t be happier. Even though we’d never met face-to-face, we’d gotten to know each other through texts and phone calls over the past few months. She was sunshine in human form. I was so happy that Harper would have her as a bonus mom.

Kenna: When are you getting home?

Even though I hated surprises for myself, I’d tried to get home a day early and surprise Harper, but thanks to the storm, it looked like my efforts were futile and I would be arriving at my previously scheduled time.

Me: I was trying to get home tonight, but it’s not looking good.

Kenna: I can’t wait to see you! Fair warning: I’m going to hug you and NOT let go.

I smiled as I sent my reply.

Me: Thanks for the warning.

I’d never been overly affectionate. Even with people I was close to. When I knew someone, contact didn’t cause me discomfort or anxiety, but I didn’t love being touched. My daughter was the only exception to this rule. I’d always been very affectionate with Harper.

My heart ached in my chest. I missed my peanut so much. I planned on hugging her so tight that they were going to have to surgically remove her from me. She was turning five in two weeks, and for her entire life, I’d been on active duty. I’d had three deployments that totaled up to me being overseas for sixteen months of her short life. But that was behind me. I was officially a civilian for the first time since my eighteenth birthday, when I enlisted.

I’d sacrificed so much for so long, and I couldn’t wait to step into the future I’d worked so hard for. As an E.R. attending physician, I knew my career would take up a lot of my time. Doctors typically work long hours. But at least my life would be mine again. I wouldn’t have to endure months of separation from my baby girl.

I didn’t regret my decision to apply for and earn my degree from the Navy after serving my first four years. The path had not been easy, but I am a doctor and have no debt. I didn’t know many physicians who could claim that.

Perhaps the reaction I’d had to the sexy stranger had to do with the sense of freedom I felt for the first time. I couldn’t be happier about it, but it was a big life change. Maybe that had caused my brain to rewire.

Taking a deep breath, I decided it was time to stop hiding in the bathroom. I needed to go out and face whatever was happening, and stop trying to analyze why it was happening. If I let myself, my overthinking would spiral uncontrollably. I had a hard time shutting my brain off. Ever.

When returned to the bar, I saw that my sexy stranger was nowhere to be seen. On the stool he’d occupied, there was now an elderly woman with gorgeous silvery-white hair wearing a baby blue cardigan. The seat next to her, which I’d been sitting on, was empty. And thankfully, the mermaid suitcase my daughter had picked out for me was still on the floor beside it.

As I crossed the room, two thoughts battled for the top spot. One, the closer I got, the more the woman looked like Betty White, which was impossible considering that the film and TV legend passed away in 2021, but if this woman hadn’t worked as a Betty White impersonator, she’d seriously missed her calling. First Kyle Chandler and then Betty White—was there a look-a-like convention in town?

And two, I wondered where in the world my sexy stranger had gone. His duffle bag was still resting next to my suitcase, so I doubted he was far.

When I approached the empty stool, Betty smiled sweetly at me as her palm landed on the seat. “Oh, sorry, dear. This seat is taken.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I was sitting here, and I asked…um…” Crap. I didn’t know his name.

“Tall, dark, and dreamy?” Betty, er, whatever the woman’s name was offered.

I pointed at her. “Yep, that’s him, to watch my bag.”

She nodded and removed her hand from the seat. I lowered down beside her and stared at the glass of water that had facilitated our hand touch, which had sent me into a mental spiral.

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