Page 88 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

His lips curved upward into a small smile, which was not a little distracting. “Flying home, just as I imagine you’re doing.”

“Of course, yeah.” I licked my lips, a bad habit when I was nervous.

“Isn’t it early? I thought you said you’d be staying another day or two,” he said, curiosity in his tone.

I didn’t remember telling him when I’d be back, but I nodded. “Yeah, there’s a big snowstorm heading to middle Tennessee today, so I wanted to get ahead of the weather.”

He nodded. “I heard about that storm. Unusual.”

“And you? Flying home early too?”

“No, I’d only booked a short trip because work has been so busy.” He looked over at me. “Do you want to share a ride home?”

I looked into his rich hazel eyes. “Uh, OK?”

He chuckled. “That sounds like a question, not an answer.”

“I mean, yes, we can ride home together. I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow but looked back to the carousel. “Finally,” he said as the suitcases began rolling onto the carousel. His was one of the first, so he grabbed it on the first pass.

“I’m surprised you bothered to check luggage for such a short trip.”

He shrugged. “I brought a lot of gifts for my sister and my mom. And they have gifts for me to give to Lila, of course. They wouldn’t have fit in a carry-on.”

“Ah, I don’t have that excuse. I’m just a heavy packer. Just call me Madam Heavy Packer,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh.

His eyes traveled over my face, searching for … I don’t know what. “I’ll call you Roxy,” he said quietly.

I sucked in my cheeks. “I noticed you’d started calling me that a while ago. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his eyes still roaming over my face.

Trying to ignore the butterflies making a ruckus in my stomach, I put on a smile. “So, how was your family thing?”

His expression darkened. “It was fine.”

“Really? Your face says otherwise.”

I clamped my mouth tightly, thinking I’d gone too far, but he just sighed. “Some parts were fine. Others, not so much.”

“Care to vent a little?”

“No,” he said sharply.

I turned away then, looking for my own luggage on the other carousel next to us. Of course he wouldn’t want to share personal things with me. Why would he? I felt my cheeks heat up as I considered how he must see me.

He sighed behind me, and I could feel his breath on the side of my face. “It’s not you.”

I nodded and tried to smile. I’d heard that more times than I could count.

The ride home was quiet and awkward for the first twenty minutes as he drove our rented car.

“If it helps at all, I had a rough time with my family too,” I finally said quietly.

He frowned. “It doesn’t help.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, averting my eyes to look out the passenger window.

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