The whirring sound of the
baggage carousel caught his attention. He moved closer so he could watch for
his bag. Soon a plethora of bags came around and he noticed his. He reached out
to grab his bag just as someone on his right bumped into him. He looked over
his shoulder out of reflex, then felt a jolt fly through his body as he felt a
soft hand brush against his. Then he felt a sharp tug.
He turned his eyes locked
with the most beautiful almond shaped hazel eyes he'd ever seen. He didn't have
a chance to admire the woman, who looked strangely familiar, before she tugged
on his bag again.
“You have my bag.”
He shook his head and
blinked.
She jerked the bag again.
“You have my bag,”
she now said through clenched teeth.
He looked down at the bag
and then back at her. “I'm sorry, but you're mistaken. This is my bag.”
“No, you're mistaken.”
He let out a slow breath,
searching for patience. “Look, lady. I'm tired and I've got to get to a rental
car place so I can get out of here. I don't have time for this.”
“And neither do I, so if
you'd kindly let go of my bag.”
She jerked the bag.
He jerked it back.
Her eyes widened, then
narrowed to thin slits.
He closed his eyes,
counted to three in his head and let out another slow deep breath. Then he
opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Look, I can save you a
lot of trouble and spare you some embarrassment, by proving to you this
is my bag.”
She glared at him. “How on
earth are you going to do that?”
“Well, besides just
looking at the name tag,” he pointed out sarcastically, “there is a tear on the
front left side at the bottom.”
The blush that rose from
her neck was priceless.
Clearly, looking too
embarrassed to look at the nametag, she leaned down and looked at the front of
the suitcase. He couldn't help but noticed how her pencil skirt lovingly hugged
her hips and her bloused showed just a hint of cleavage. He felt his body stir
in appreciation of the well-shaped woman. He found himself annoyed to have
responded so quickly to a rather irrational woman.
She stood and finally
released the handle of the bag. Then she turned away without so much as an
apology. He went to call her out on it, but heard his mother's voice in his
head and something about always being polite. He glanced over at the carousel
and noticed a bag that looked exactly like his.
He looked over to the
woman and saw she was not watching the bag, so he swiftly picked it up and sat
it down in front of her. She jumped in surprise then looked at him.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
“Don't mention it,” he
replied, annoyance still in his voice. He turned to head for a rental car
kiosk. Then he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “You may want to check the
tag before you leave off with someone's bag.”
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After the Storm-Now available on Amazon |
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