Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“Oh. That’s awful.”
I nodded. “The storm hit so fast—I guess no one expected it to move in this quickly.” He chuckled. “So I’ve been stuck here most of the day.”
“Wait, if you had no wallet, what did you eat?”
“I had five bucks in my pocket. I got a coffee and a bagel.”
“When was that?”
I shrugged. “About noon, I guess.”
She was out of her seat like a shot and hurried away, leaving me gaping after her retreating form.
What had I said?
She disappeared around the corner, and I shook my head. I didn’t even know if she was coming back. Maybe my protective little angel was slightly crazy. I relaxed in my seat, grinning at the thought and running a hand through my messy hair. I needed a haircut. No doubt it would be the first criticism my father would have when he saw me.
I noticed a backpack and purse sitting on the floor across from me, as well as one of those airplane pillows. They must belong to her, which meant she had to be returning.
I grabbed the pillow and leaned my head back. I still had no idea where she’d taken off to.
I looked out the window at the empty runway. A storm was raging outside.
Where could she go?
Twenty minutes later, she was back, carrying a paper tray and a bag. I could hear her coming, her steps hurried, and she was panting as she rounded the corner. I opened my weary eyes as she approached, feeling myself smiling as I took her in. She wore leggings with a long shirt over them, topped with a jean jacket and a pretty scarf draped around her neck. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she gave off a bohemian vibe.
She was a slip of a girl—I doubted she would even come up to my chest if I stood in front of her. She would fit well under my arm when walking, her head resting below my shoulder. It would be the perfect height to nuzzle. I blinked at the strange thoughts.
She stopped in front of me, dropping to the floor. “I got you food.”
“What?”
“You’ve been here all day. You’re tired and hungry. I went and got you food.”
“But you left your purse? I don’t want you spending money on me.” I frowned at her. “You don’t even know me.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “They gave me a food voucher, and the Tim’s reopened a little while ago, so I got you some food.” She stared at me with her expressive eyes. “They make great sandwiches. You have to eat.”
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Pretty much. My dad…” Her voice trailed off, and a sad look crossed her face. “Yeah, I guess so.”
The distressed look on her face made my chest hurt. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like seeing her look that way. I lowered myself to the floor beside her and stuck out my hand. “I guess since we’ve already held hands, we’re not strangers anymore…but I want to know the name of the little angel who’s feeding me.”
Her cheeks darkened, but she placed her hand in mine. “Maggie. Maggie Andrews.”
I closed my fingers around her hand, enclosing it fully. It felt right, nestled into my palm, the warmth of her skin pleasant against mine. I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed the soft skin. “I’m Sebastian Ruggers. It’s a joy to meet you, Maggie Andrews.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You kissed my hand.”
“You held mine first.”
She giggled. “Good point.” Then she pulled her hand away and started unpacking the bag. She shoved two sandwiches and a container of soup toward me and set a coffee and milk beside it. “There’re a couple doughnuts in the bag, too.”
“What about you?”
“I got something.” She pushed the pile again. “Eat.”
I was about to protest but changed my mind since I was starving. If Chris was able to get me my wallet, I could return the favor if we were still stuck here. If not, I would mail her the money. Unwrapping a sandwich, I took a big bite, humming as I enjoyed the thick filling. Maggie ate her sandwich and sipped her coffee far slower than I did. We didn’t talk much, but our eyes met often, holding briefly before one of us would look away—usually Maggie. I liked looking at her, seeing the color creep up on her cheeks, and how gentle her gaze was on me. Her eyes were bright pools of blue that gleamed even in the dim light.
I sat back, feeling full, then I stretched out my legs, sipping the coffee she had brought me.
“Thank you,” I murmured with a satisfied sigh. “That was very kind of you.”
“I try to be kind to people.”
I had a feeling she didn’t have to try too hard. Being kind was something I was sure came naturally to Maggie.