Judy Christenberry - Snowbound Sweetheart

It seemed to take a minute for her to realize he was waiting on her. Snapping her chin into the air, she turned and headed through the door that led to the parking garage.

Again he reconsidered his decision when he saw her car. A Miata. He was going to be trapped in a small car for fifteen hours with a feminist—a touchy feminist—which was like a cowboy being cornered by a bull with a hatred for humans. Unmanageable.

“The trunk is full,” she muttered. “But I think all your things can go in the back seat.”

What back seat? There was a narrow ledge behind the front two seats. But he wasn’t about to argue. He stuffed everything where she said. Then he pulled off his denim, fleece-lined coat and laid it on top. It occurred to him again to ask where her coat was, and whether she shouldn’t put it inside the car, too. But there was no way he was risking another pithy lecture.

Then he squeezed himself into the passenger seat. Damn, he was going to feel like a pretzel by the time they reached Oklahoma.

“Please fasten your seat belt,” she reminded him.

Oh, yeah, he didn’t want to forget that little thing. A woman driver who had taken an instant dislike to him? No, he didn’t want to take any more chances.

The minute they pulled out of the parking garage into city traffic, Gil knew the trip was going to take longer than expected. The roads were jammed, filled with impatient drivers using their horns to indicate their frustration.

“Crowded today,” he said, casually watching Lindsay out of the corner of his eye.

She was frowning, but as far as he could tell, she was in control. “I’ve never seen it this crowded.”

“Well, with the snowstorm and the holiday, I suppose we should’ve expected it.”

“If it’s too much for you, Mr. Daniels, you can get out now. It’s only a short walk back to the apartment.” She made her statement without heat, as if it didn’t matter to her either way.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to complain. I was only making a comment. An inoffensive comment.”

He watched her fingers tighten on the steering wheel before she released them. “My apology. I guess I’m a little stressed today.”

“Understandable. A change of plans at the last minute can be hard to handle.”

She gave a hint of a smile that vanished quickly, and she concentrated on her driving.

Gil studied her. She was beautiful enough to satisfy any man. Her blond hair was swept up into some kind of twist, leaving him to wonder how long it was. Her makeup was discreet, enhancing her smooth features. Her hazel eyes were complemented by the color of her suit.

And she had killer legs.

He’d noticed them beneath the short skirt when he was following her to her car.

The rest of her seemed well-proportioned, too, though he couldn’t tell much with the long, boxy jacket she wore.

Just the kind of woman he avoided.

Grimly, he pictured his ex-wife. She’d always been on the best-dressed list. Every hair had been in place. Nothing would do but the most expensive for her. Fashion was the most important thing in her life and came before everything else.

Including him. It was demoralizing to come in second to a cashmere sweater set. Ultimately, he just hadn’t lived up to Amanda’s expectations for a husband.

“Damn!” his companion muttered, catching him by surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

They’d been edging their way along Lakeshore Drive. Now even edging had been eliminated. Long lines of traffic had come to a complete halt.

“I’d hoped we could reach Interstate 55 before it got this bad. Surely once we get on that highway, things will move faster.”

“Interstate 55. That goes to St. Louis, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. From there, we’ll take Interstate 44. It goes to Oklahoma City.”

“You got a map?” he asked.

Her head snapped around. “I know where I’m going!”

He heaved a sigh. Yep, an angry bull. “I thought I might see if there was another way to get to 55. Lakeshore Drive is pretty famous.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I’m a little tense about—There’s a map of Chicago in the glove compartment.”

Was she nervous about being alone with him? She wasn’t fainthearted, like his sister, that was for sure. Without comment, he pulled out the map. He noted she had a map of the Midwest in there, also. She was well prepared.

After studying the map, he checked their location. “Have we passed Madison Avenue yet?”

“Not yet. It’s coming up.”

“We could exit on it. Then just about any road that crosses it will take us to 55.”

“You’re sure? I’ve never—”

“We’re not moving. Look for yourself.” He didn’t point out that her doubting his word was as insulting as his telling her what to do.

She took the map from him and studied it. Then, with an apologetic smile, she said, “You’re right. Now, if the traffic will only move a little bit, we can get out of this maze.”

“Just don’t be surprised if half of these drivers have the same idea,” he warned her.

“If half of them had the same idea, we’d at least be moving. I’m afraid the snowstorm will catch us before we can get out of town. Look at those clouds.”

She gestured over her shoulder and he realized she’d been watching the weather in the rearview mirror.

“Pretty ominous,” he agreed, “but maybe it’s lake effect clouds. I’ve heard it can increase the amount of snow. By the time it hits though, we should be out of Chicago.”

“I hope so. I think I’ll try to catch the latest weather report.”

She fiddled with the radio for several minutes, finally settling on one playing music. “I think this station gives a weather report on the hour.”

He checked his watch. They’d left at one-thirty and it was already almost two. They’d only gone a few blocks.

The weather report wasn’t good. It seemed the storm predicted for that evening had strengthened even more and was picking up speed. Now its estimated time of arrival was three o’clock.

Lindsay moaned.

Gil’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time, but his wife had made little moans in bed when they’d first married, when making love had been important to her.

He didn’t want to be reminded.

“What’s making you tense?” he said.

She turned startled eyes on him. “I—what are you asking?”

“When I asked for a map, you said you were tense about something, but you stopped before you finished your sentence.”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said stiffly.

“I guess not. But it made me curious.”

“I didn’t offer to satisfy your curiosity. Just to drive you to Oklahoma.” She stared straight ahead.

“Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t need to listen to her problems anyway. He had some of his own.

“Where in Oklahoma do you live? Is it close to Interstate 44?”

“Yeah, pretty close, but if you get me to any major city, I can catch a flight out.”

“With the holiday traffic, that might not be true. What town do you live in?”

“You won’t have heard of it. It’s a little town south of Oklahoma City. Apache.”

“That explains it,” she said, a disgusted look on her face.

“Explains what?”

“You wanted to know what was making me tense? It’s going home to my brothers.”

“You don’t like your brothers?” he asked, even as he wondered why they were back on this subject.

“I love my brothers. But they’re always bossing me around. Just like you. That’s why I’m tense. And we live near Duncan, a few miles from Apache. I guess that’s why you remind me of them.”

“Then we’re even,” he replied, his voice tight. “Because you remind me of my ex-wife, Amanda.”