Page 6 of Prairie Nights

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Whitney hung up her phone, relief washing over her, followed by the sudden realization of what she just agreed to. Staying with Hayden, in his home, just the two of them. He was temptation on a stick. Whitney gulped down the doubt that was creeping into her decision. Her attraction to Hayden was far beyond the men she had dated over the past five years here in the city. Every time she was around him, all she wanted to do was re-enact their saucy tryst. He was dangerously handsome and although she knew it was going to be hard seeing him every day; she didn’t exactly have any other good options right now. Plus, he was so earnest with his generous offer, which was so sweet. If she was going to do this, she would just have to keep things light, casual, and polite. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. That and look for a place of my own as soon as possible.

Grabbing her laptop off her desk, she took a seat at her kitchen table and searched up flights to Winnipeg. As she booted up her computer, she noticed a notification that she had an unread email. Clicking on the email, she stopped, her body turning ice cold at the sender.

The email read: You and I belong together, even if you don’t think we do. No one can stop true love. Wait for me, baby. We will have our time again. Don’t hide from me, bitch. I will always find you.

“Paul.” she whispered. Rising from the table, she paced, her heart racing and the muscles in her body tightened with tension, her telltale sign of an impending panic attack. Knowing what was coming, she sprinted to the door to check her locks, making sure the chain and deadbolt were engaged. She leaned against the door, her throat constricting painfully as she tried to breathe and slid to the floor. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to take deep cleansing breaths, trying to concentrate on controlling the building attack, fighting to take control of her body.

Shortly after she married Paul, she started having panic attacks. At times, they were so debilitating that she couldn’t function, and Paul didn’t have sympathy for her. He would angrily taunt or make fun of her temporary impairment. Always telling her she was just being stupid or overly dramatic. His unkind words still hurt. Even after so much therapy and healing over the past five years, how did Paul have the ability, with a single email, to make her fold in on herself?

Painful tears wet her cheeks as she held her head in her hands. What am I going to do? What if Paul is going to show up at my door or at work again? What if the harassment picks up where it left off? What if worse? Whitney didn’t trust Paul. He was a volatile and unpredictable man, and she simply couldn’t and wouldn’t go through it all again. Hopeless and scared, she cried, letting all the hurt and fear come out in her sobs.

Wiping her cheeks with her palms, a momentary thought passed through her mind, giving her the strength to rise to her feet and locate her phone. Finding her phone next to her laptop, she quickly typed out a text. “Can you come get me from the airport tomorrow?”

CHAPTER 3

Hayden arrived at the Winnipeg airport, parking in the car park and finding his way inside. Locating the domestic arrivals, he waited for Whitney, leaning against the wall and watching the empty escalator descend. Being a late-night flight, the terminal was quieter than usual with only a dozen or so loved ones lingering, waiting for the next flight to arrive. Hayden’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, glancing at his texts.

Whitney: Just arrived.

Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, his brows knit together with worry. Receiving a text last night from Whitney, asking if she could come stay with him earlier than planned, he was surprised at her urgency to get there. He wanted to ask what the rush was, but since Whitney was so private, he was hesitant to question it. Would she trust me enough to even tell me? Something was obviously very wrong, and he needed to figure out the best way to ask.

The arrival door opened, breaking him out of his thoughts, as passengers started flooding the escalator, descending to the ground floor. Spotting her blonde hair, he smiled, his heart fluttering as warmth filled his chest. Whitney was dressed comfortable and casual in a turquoise fitted athletic jacket, and black leggings, her shoulder-length blonde hair pinned at the sides and her face natural. Beautiful. Walking her way, their eyes met, and she offered him a tired and wary smile, causing his stomach to drop. Something is definitely wrong.

Whitney stopped a foot from Hayden, staring up at him, trepidation in her eyes. Concern washing over him, he stretched his arms out to her, and she bridged the gap, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight grip. Melting into his body; a long-pained sigh escaping her lips as she clung to him. He held her to his chest, stroking her hair gently, her tension easing under his tender touch.

Releasing him, she stepped back and met his worried gaze as a grateful smile emerged. “Thank you, Hayden.” she said, emotion edging her tone.

“It’s no problem, Whitney.” he replied, waving off her thanks. “Let’s get your luggage and head home.” He suggested, walking towards the baggage claim.

Finding one suitcase, she pulled it off the baggage carousel and rolled it over to Hayden. Pulling up the handle, he turned to roll away, and she stopped him with a laugh. “Hold on, I got two more.”

Hayden’s eyes widened and his lips turned up in a mischievous grin. “Moving in with me already?” he teased with a wink.

Whitney rolled her eyes and shook her head as she went back to the carousel. Retrieving the last two suitcases, she pulled them along awkwardly towards Hayden, who had already commandeered a trolley. Loading up her three suitcases, they made their way out of the building and towards the parkade. It was getting colder now, November just around the corner, and the wind bit at them as they walked.

“My goodness it’s cold!” she exclaimed, pulling up the collar of her jacket. “I hope I packed warm enough for Manitoba.”

“Winter is coming. You’ll need something a lot warmer than that,” he informed gesturing to her athletic jacket.

She gave him a sideways glance and shivered, sliding her hands in her pockets. When they reached his truck, Whitney’s eyes widened, and she turned, giving Hayden an approving nod. “I love your truck,” she marvelled, running her hands over the hardware store logo on the door of his classic Green 1950 Chevy Pickup.

“Thanks, it was my dad’s.” Hayden answered with a proud smile as he opened the passenger door for her. Flashing him a grateful look, she climbed in.

Loading the suitcases into the bed of the truck, he covered them with a tarp and secured them with bungee cords before returning the trolley. Sliding into the cab, he started the truck and turned to Whitney. She met his gaze, making him melt inside, her cheeks and nose tinted red from the cold. He reached down to turn on the heater, letting the warm air circulate a few minutes before they set on their way. An awkward silence fell between them, neither knowing exactly what to say as they let the cab of the truck warm.

“Better?” he asked, glancing over at her.

“Yes, but my hands are so cold,” she replied, rubbing her hands together to generate warmth.

Reaching over to the glove compartment, his hand brushed her thigh, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Chuckling at her reaction, he opened the compartment and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. “These should help.” He said, offering them to her.

Her brown eyes softened as she met his gaze and accepted the gloves, slipping them onto her small hands. “These are huge.” She commented with a giggle as she held them up, her little hands swimming in his large gloves.

“You know what they say about guys with big hands? They have…” She flashed him a chiding look. “... big gloves.” he finished giving her a flirtatious wink and sexy smirk.

Whitney took off a glove and swatted his arm with it, causing them both to laugh. “Enough jokes, country boy! Take me back to Primrose.”

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