her, Jax stirred. He was spooned around her body, his right arm draped over her waist. Her mind might be racing like a hamster on a treadmill, but physically she felt incredibly safe.
Or maybe she didn’t….
Against her back she could feel Jax’s hard body shifting. He flung his free arm over his head. His knuckles struck the wall, and he mumbled a curse word.
Hetty didn’t utter a sound. Did he realize she could feel what was happening to him? Was it…intentional, or was it just that thing that happened to men early in the morning?
Gus had found it embarrassing, but then, Jax was nothing at all like her late husband. She couldn’t imagine Jax ever apologizing for being…well…aroused.
Hetty knew the instant he became aware of the situation, because he began to draw away from her. She wished she could sink through the floor, but as that was hardly likely, she tried to pretend she was just waking up.
Yawning and stretching, she wondered if her eyes were either puffy or shadowed or both. Both, probably. It was the way she reacted to lack of sleep. She’d never particularly worried about her lack of looks, but at this moment she’d have given everything she possessed to be beautiful. To have hair that wasn’t flat on one side from being slept on and fuzzy everywhere else, thanks to some distant ancestor who was obviously related to a sheep.
She probably had finger marks on her cheek, too. Great.
“You awake?” Jax whispered. He’d shifted enough so that his arousal was no longer probing her backside. Either that or one look at her had cooled his early-morning ardor.
“About half-awake.”
“Looks like nothing’s changed.”
“I don’t see people rushing toward our gate. Maybe if we went around to the south side of the terminal, things would be different.”
“This is the south side,” Jax said wryly.
“Oh.”
“You want to take a bathroom break first?”
“If you don’t mind.” She’d give her last five dollars for a toothbrush. Why hadn’t her friendly travel agent warned her about things like this? She’d have stuck one in her purse.
“Toothpaste and shaving soap in my briefcase. You’re welcome to anything you want.”
Hetty sat up, raked her fingers through her hair and said, “Bless you! I’d have brought my own supplies in my purse if I’d thought about it.”
He handed her a small tube of shaving soap, the old-fashioned kind that required a brush, and one of toothpaste. Hetty thought it was sweet. The only two men she’d known well enough to know their shaving habits used the stuff in an aerosol can.
“When you get back, I’ll go and then reconnoiter for supplies. Coffee and anything else I can find, right?”
They disentangled assorted limbs, straps, coats and shawls, and in the process Hetty was reminded all over again of just what an attractive man Jackson Powers was. Even rumpled, unshaven, his thick hair looking as if it had just been combed with a thresher.
And to think she’d slept with him.
Mercy!
Ten o’clock came and went. Hetty popped a cold, limp French fry into her mouth and wondered whether to call it breakfast, lunch or an early dinner. At this point she was no longer even sure what day it was. “I’ve been thinking—what if this thing we call an airport is really a small planet circling in outer space? What if we’re all alone in the universe?”
“Read a lot of science fiction, do you?”
“If the library has it, I’ve read it. Some of it’s boring, but it’s still another point of view. That’s always—well, almost always—enlightening.”
“Interesting perspective.”
“I think so, too. That’s why I’ve plowed through so many boring books.” She checked the snap on her purse, then laid it aside. “I tried the travel agency’s 800 number again on the way from the rest room. It was still busy.”
“I’m not surprised,” Jax said. He snagged the last French fry, wondering how long it was going to have to last. He’d had to search two different concourses before he’d found food this morning. Instead of coffee and pancakes, or anything else faintly resembling a breakfast, he’d had to settle for saltines, French fries and Bloody Mary mix. For ten bucks he’d managed to get a pint of whole milk for Sunny. He only hoped it didn’t make her sick. Evidently formula had more ingredients than plain milk.
Hetty’s shoulders were drooping. He told her to brace up, that things could be worse. Judging from the way her chin trembled, she wasn’t far from tears.
God, he hoped she didn’t start crying. When it came to dealing with feminine tears, he was at a dead loss, regardless of the age of the female.
She blew a wisp of hair off her forehead. “You reck’n?”
“I reck’n,” he said, amused by the colloquialism.
“You’re right. We could’ve been diverted to Alaska and had to make connections by dog sled.”
“Or we could be in the air in all this mess. Or one of those poor devils trapped out on the runway. Given a choice, where would you rather be?”
He was trying to cheer her up, and Hetty appreciated it, she really did, only there was nothing cheerful in knowing that the one time in your life you did something truly frivolous, it turned out to be a monumental flop.
“You’re a nice man, Jackson Powers.” She managed a smile, despite the fact that she was probably going to miss her cruise. In spite of the fact that she was practically broke, with no job and no home to return to until she patched things up with Jeannie.
Which meant dealing with Nicky. Jeannie’s new husband recognized a good thing when it fell into his lap and wasn’t about to let his stepmother-in-law horn in on it.
“How many cans of formula do we have left?” Jax asked briskly, as if knowing she could use a distraction.
“We’re out. It’ll have to be the milk next time. It might give her diarrhea, which could be a problem unless we can locate a source of diapers.”
Hetty welcomed the chance to take on someone else’s problems. Jax and Sunny weren’t family, only passing strangers, but anything was better than being all alone in the wilderness of an overcrowded, shutdown airport with roughly a zillion frustrated holiday travelers.
You’d think she’d know more about airports, having been married to a pilot, but after years of selling hardware, Gus had barely gotten started on his crop-dusting career before he’d been killed.
“Want to go check out the weather report again?” Jax asked. He had the most remarkable eyes. Hetty couldn’t decide whether they were charcoal-gray or navy-blue. Mostly he kept his feelings hidden, but she’d caught glimpses of humor and concern. Once or twice she’d seen something that looked almost like admiration.
Which had to be wishful thinking on her part.
“Can we afford to leave our space unguarded?” Miracle of miracles, no one had tried to push past their fragile barrier. Jax had moved a sign advertising a Bermuda Cruise so that it hid the area where they’d slept.
“There’s a lot of coughing and sneezing going on. I don’t mind taking my chances, but I hate to expose Sunny any more than I have to.”
It was decided that they would take turns scouting out food and information, and baby-sitting. He said, “I’ll make a run and see if I can round up some diapers and baby food.”
“I think I saw a drugstore down that way about half a mile,” Hetty offered.
There had to be something in an airport this size. It was