The gorgeous brunette recovers quickly, her open mouth snapping shut as she eyes me. Honestly? When I was rushing back to my gate after retrieving my goddamn cell phone that I left at security, I couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman I saw on the escalator.
Not beautiful. Stunning.
Steal-my-breath-away stunning.
Call it fate or destiny or just good old karma that put me in the seat next to her. Whatever transpired to put me here, I’ll take it. It’s my first vacation ever without my daughter. Ever since my ex announced — while still pregnant — that she had no interest in becoming a parent, thereby leaving me a single dad, vacations have revolved around my little girl. Finding a woman to have fun with wasn’t high on the to-do list since I figured I’d be too busy with my friend Eddie’s wedding stuff, since that’s the entire reason I’m going to Hawaii alone. But it’s bumping up in priority as we study each other.
“I’m Ronan,” I say, putting out my hand. She takes it, giving me a strong handshake.
“I know who you are.” She drops my hand. “And my name is Willow.”
Hmm, she knows me. This could go one of two ways. In my experience, when a woman recognizes me, it either means she’s simply a baseball fan, meaning no drama, or she’s seeing dollar bills. Schooling my tone to be a little more reserved until I figure out which camp she falls into, I reply, “Nice to meet you.” Then, I settle back in my seat. But I can feel the heat of her gaze on me.
“You had a good season. Three-twenty batting average, best fielding percentage for a first baseman in your division. Impressive.”
A fan, then.Maybe more? Hell, a beautiful woman who can list my stats like that? It’s hot. “Let’s not forget my RBIs and zone defense rating. You know your baseball.”
She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “You could say that.”
Enigmatic. I like it. She knows who I am, knows my game, but she isn’t fangirling. There’s no ring and no mistaking the interest I saw on the escalator.
“What’s taking you to Hawaii?” I ask, lifting my hat off to run my fingers through my hair before setting it back down, tugging the brim down a bit. I may not be as famous as some of my colleagues, but I’d still rather not be recognized right now. People are filing past us, heading to their seats, but I feel as if I’m in a little bubble. It’s just me and this woman I really want to get to know.
“Vacation. I just needed to get away for a while.” She puts down her tablet and settles against the window to face me. “What about you?”
“Friend from university is getting married.” I flash her a grin. “And some time in the sun sounded pretty good before I head into an Ontario winter.”
Her chuckle is throaty and fucking sexy. “Yeah, I don’t think I could handle the cold out east.”
I shrug. “Eh, it’s not so bad. It’s home, hopefully for a few more years.”
Her shoulders relax slightly. Or am I imagining that? Just then, a flight attendant leans down into our space. “May I offer either of you a beverage?”
I glance at Willow, gesturing for her to go first. Her nose crinkles adorably as she thinks before responding, “It’s a toss-up. Mimosa or Americano.” She taps her chin twice, then nods. “Americano now, mimosa later. Thank you.”
The attendant turns to me, but I’m just smiling at the woman next to me. She clears her throat and I realize she’s waiting for my answer.
“Just coffee, thanks.”
As soon as she leaves to fill our order, I turn back to Willow. “At the risk of sounding like a creep, are you traveling alone?”
She lifts an eyebrow, just one, and goddamn, that’s weirdly attractive. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why do you ask?”
Good question. Why am I asking? It’s not like me to be this forward with women. I’ve got Peyton, my daughter, to think about. Not to mention the built-in complication and drama that can come from trying to pick up women as a somewhat high-profile athlete.
But something’s different with Willow. She’s beautiful, sure, but there’s more to it than just her looks. She’s got some sort of magnetic pull that I can’t seem to ignore. I pause a second, feeling the simmering attraction between us solidify even further as I figure out how to answer. But what I come out with sounds corny, even to my ears.
“I’m just trying to clarify the situation so I know how best to proceed. It would seem fate keeps putting us together, and who are we to deny that?”
Smothering her burst of laughter with her hand, Willow’s eyes dance with amusement. “Fate? Really? That’s not what I expected you to say. You don’t seem like a believer-in-fate kind of guy.”
She’s not wrong, but I’m just glad my cheeseball answer didn’t turn her off. Which means it’s my turn to shrug. “I don’t. Not normally. But when I saw you at security, I wanted to run after you, only you disappeared so quickly. Then on the escalator, when I saw you a second time, I cursed my idiot self for leaving my cell phone at security. Even though you were to blame for me forgetting it in the first place.” I take a chance and lean in a little closer. “See, I was distracted by the gorgeous woman with a vibrating bag.” She laughs again. “If I hadn’t needed to go back and collect it, you should know I would have instantly tried to find you. Which brings us to now. Seeing you sitting in the seat next to mine? Definitely a sign that we were meant to meet.”
“Ah, so thatwasyou at security.” Those baby blues scan me from head to toe. “Damn, I knew my instincts were good.”
“Instincts?” I ask, raising my own eyebrows.
Willow nods. “I noticed you. I was just otherwise occupied by my vibrator situation…” She trails off, leaving me to fill in the rest. She’s bold, and fuck if I don’t love that. I noticed it when everything happened at security. Other women might have been embarrassed, but Willow just owned it.