Hometown Firefighters- 2

GRAYSON

Two Years Ago

The bubbles pop against his tongue as he sips his club soda because like hell was he going to drink more alcohol this weekend. He consumed more over the last seventy-two hours than he probably has in the last seven years combined. At thirty-three, he can confidently say he cannot hold his liquor like he used to. He woke up every morning feeling like his head was being run over by a bulldozer, so club soda it is.

He groans, resting his head on his hand. Not only was he unable to find a direct flight from Boston to Denver, but now his connecting flight is delayed. And one glance out the window onto the tarmac shows him it's probably going to be cancelled. The ice clinging to everything is getting thicker by the minute. So, an airport bar in Nashville with peanuts as their only dinner offering is where he finds himself. On the television over the bar, the newscasters are talking about the storm and how much worse it's panning out to be. Sensing someone moving onto the seat beside him, he resists the urge to growl at them in hopes they will scurry away. He's frozen in place by a flurry of long red hair when he turns to see who's taken the barstool beside his. It's the woman from the plane. She walked by him on her way to her seat on the flight from Boston and he thought his jaw was going to hit the floor. She's fucking gorgeous.

She grumbles under her breath about the 'goddamn plane' and this 'goddamn weather' as she situates herself in on the stool with her carry-on slung over the back of the seat. She leans forward, her forehead smacking against the wooden bar top. "Fuck." She groans. Pulling her head back up, she rubs at the sore spot with her hand. Her eyes tentatively glance his way, but he doesn't think she's really seeing him. "I didn't mean to do it that hard." She mumbles quietly.

"Are you okay?" He asks, trying not to smile because even in her apparent distressed state, she's adorable and sexy as hell.

Her head swivels toward him and he's met with two pools of deep green that seem to have no end in sight. Her breath hitches in her throat. She blinks several times. "Yeah. Just a crappy day."

He nods, giving her a small smile. "Are you connecting to Denver too?"

"Supposed to." She grumbles, reaching into her purse.

"Can I get you a drink?" She glances at him, clearly trying to figure out his motives for offering. "It's the least I can do, since we're both stuck here right now."

She stares at him for another moment before shrugging. "Okay."

When the bartender comes over, she orders a glass of white whine that he tells the guy to put on his tab. "So, why were you in Boston?" He asks.

She drags in a slow, deep breath, like she's preparing herself for what she's going to say. "It was supposed to be a romantic weekend with my boyfriend. I ended up dumping him instead because he couldn't keep his eyes off every woman within a ten-mile-radius."

"Did he cheat on you?"

"I don't think so, but honestly, who knows?" She takes a sip of the whine when the bartender slides it in front of her.

He holds up his half-empty glass toward her. "Fuck him."

She smiles, holding up her own glass. "Fuck him." She echoes, clinking it against his. They both take a sip, their eyes locked the whole time. How they both manage to drink while smiling, he doesn't know, but it's sure as shit happening. "What about you? Why were you in Boston?"

"Bachelor party." He holds up his glass. "Hence why this has none of the good stuff in it."

"Too old to be drinking all weekend?" She jokes with barely-contained glee in her eyes.

"I might be too old to drink like I did in college, but not too old for other things."

She blushes, diverting her gaze down to her still mostly full glass of wine. As he sets his glass back down, a gust of wind howls outside, pelting more snow against the window. He grabs his phone and starts searching for a hotel nearby. Just as he suspects, most of the rooms are already booked. Everyone is doing the same thing right now.

"Are you booking a hotel?" She asks, leaning over to look at his phone screen.

"I am." He presses the final button to reserve a room for the night in case he needs it.

She rolls her eyes. He internally groans. He does not need to be thinking of how he can make her eyes roll back in a different way right now.

"That's going to be a waste of your money." She shakes her head.

"I'd rather be prepared."

"Are you, like, a control freak or something?"

"A little bit, I guess."

She nods. "I still bet you're wrong."

"What are you willing to bet?" He asks, his gaze heating as he takes her in and notes the way she's staring back at him.

"If this flight isn't cancelled, you have to give me your first-class seat."

He can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. "So, you noticed what seat I was in on the plane earlier."

A blush creeps over her cheeks, but she gestures her hand up and down him. "Duh.... I noticed."

"Good to know." He takes a sip of his drink for courage, like there might suddenly be alcohol in it. "If I win, you come share my unnecessary hotel room with me tonight." He presses forward even more until his lips are right at her ear. "Because I sure as fuck noticed you when you walked by my seat earlier, love."

~W~

Not ten minutes later, they announced that the flight was officially cancelled. They're all put on a flight for tomorrow afternoon. He's going to need to see if he can find anything earlier because he needs to get home to check on his mom. She has MS and though she resists, she needs his help from time to time. She's reassured him over texts that she's fine, but he just needs to see with his own two eyes. There's nothing he can do about it tonight, so that's a problem for tomorrow's Grayson.

He turns to look at the stunning redhead beside him, whose name he realizes he doesn't even know. He tries to contain his smirk as she glowers at him. "So, I guess I win."

Two green lasers drill into him for several heartbeats until a smile cracks across her face. "I guess you did." She shrugs.

Suddenly feeling wary about their bet, he adds. "You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to. I'm sure I could find you a different room." He grabs his phone. "Or...."

Her delicate hand grabs his. Glancing up, he sees her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "I don't want to go to a different room. I want to go with you." He searches her eyes for any hint of hesitation. None. Then glances at her still mostly full glass of wine on the bar. She giggles quietly. "I didn't even have half a glass and no, I didn't have any on the plane."

He gives her a curt nod. He holds his hand out for her. "Ready then, love?"

She drags in a deep breath, sliding her hand into his.