Dance With Destiny

  Text copyright © 2014 by Sloan Johnson

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Of all the things I could be doing the week before Christmas, sitting in a busy airport waiting to find out the status of a flight that already has been delayed several times is near the bottom of the list. All around me, mothers are ready to yank their hair out as their children grow more restless by the minute. Their husbands are trying to calm everyone down, without much success. And then there are the people like me: weary singles who want nothing more than to get to New York so they can be done with the mayhem.

  I told Andrew that it was a bad idea to get married so close to the holidays, but my best friend would do just about anything to put a smile on his fiancée’s face. I can’t fault him that, not really, because I was once the exact same way.

  “Attention passengers scheduled on flight 2192 to LaGuardia. It appears the weather in New York is quickly deteriorating and we’ve been notified that we’ll be unable to land due to limited visibility. If you’ll please form a single file line at the gate, we’ll do everything we can to get you on the next available flight.” I look up from my phone and feel bad for the flight attendant who looks about as pleased as the one hundred passengers who’ve just been told we’re screwed.

  Rather than join the stampede to the front of the line, I linger toward the back, watching the frustrated holiday travelers fight the urge to wrap their hands around the necks of the completely innocent airline staff. Logically, everyone knows the crew has no control over the nor’easter dumping over a foot of snow on the city at the most inopportune time, but that doesn’t change the fact that no one is going anywhere. It’s not that I’m not upset to hear that we won’t be flying out of Reagan Airport tonight, but I’d prefer to put my energy into finding a viable solution to the problem.

  It only takes a few minutes tapping away at the screen of my phone to find the answer to my dilemma; if I can’t get to the city by plane, I’ll rent a car and drive. The weather may be crap tonight, but I have a meeting in the morning and I’m not about to be delayed by a little snow.

  Truthfully, I’m looking forward to being back in a state where you don’t have to look at the calendar to know what season it is. I’ll never admit it to anyone, not even my best friend who looked at me as if I’d grown a third eye when I announced my plans to move to Phoenix and open my own business, but I miss this side of the country. At first, I thought the restlessness I felt was caused by the uncertainty of this new venture, but the company has grown into a huge success and I still feel lost and alone.

  After reserving an SUV that costs almost as much as my entire round-trip flight, I pick up my bags, grateful that I won’t have to sit through the chaos at the gate to figure out how to get to New York on time.

  “Are you kidding me?” the frustrated baritone voice stops me in my tracks. It isn’t the man’s frustration, although I can sympathize with the sentiment, there’s something more. I turn around, watching as the man grows more agitated with every click the agent makes on the computer, scrubbing a hand over the scruff covering his strong jaw. “There has to be something sooner than that.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. It appears everything through Saturday morning is already booked. You might want to try checking with the other airlines to see if they have anything available.” The young woman shuffles from foot to foot, eyeing the irritated traveler as if waiting for him to snap. I take a few steps closer, ready to jump to the agent’s defense if that should happen. This is the worst time of year to find available seats on any flight, even without Mother Nature throwing a wrench in the works.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” His perfectly styled, jet black hair flops back into place as he scrubs his hands over the top of his head, gripping the back of his neck firmly. With every swallow, I can see his Adam’s apple dip. Whoever he is trying to getting home to see is a lucky woman. Despite how aggravated he is, he’s doing his best to be kind to the agent and he looks like he just walked off the pages of a magazine which means that he’s a double-threat. “There’s really nothing you can do? My sister’s getting married Saturday and she’ll probably chop off my balls if she’s short a groomsman. And that’s only if she’s in a good mood. You don’t want to know what she’ll do to me if she’s as stressed as she has been lately…”

  I let out a ragged breath upon hearing that the guy is going home to his sister and not his wife and kids, which even I can admit is insane. It’s also a sign that it’s been far too long since I released the sexual pressure building up in my body. Before moving to Phoenix, it had been easy to call one of my fuck buddies for a night of mutual gratification, but now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve spent the past year with no more company than my hand.

  Against my better judgment, I quickly close the distance between us. “Uh, hi, I’m Dominic, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but if you want, I just rented a truck to drive up to New York tonight. There’s plenty of room and it’ll be good to have someone to keep me awake,” I offer. It’s either his eyes or the fact that my long-neglected cock twitches at the way the other man’s face lights up upon hearing that he may not be stuck here after all that tips my world slightly off kilter.

  “Are you serious?” the stranger asks. “Fuck man, that’s awesome. Name’s Tony, I can pay for part of the rental and gas.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I laugh, knowing from my recent talks with Andrew how volatile brides can be as the wedding day draws near. He fell in love with Cara because she’s low maintenance and easy-going, but their upcoming nuptials have reduced her to a ranting, stressed out shell of herself. “I have to be in the city for a meeting by ten o’clock tomorrow morning, so this will all get charged to the boss. He won’t know or care if it’s just me or both of us.”

  I’m not sure why I fell back on the meeting excuse rather than tell Tony the main purpose of my own trip is for a wedding as well. It would have given us something to talk about on the drive. Then again, it’s a better explanation for why I have no desire to take money from him.

  We walk through the terminal, carry-on suitcases in tow. I purposely fall back a few steps, giving me a chance to check out the way Tony’s faded jeans hung from his narrow hips. Tony stops to pull on his sweatshirt before we reach the doors and I nearly run into him because I’m so busy thinking about what it would feel like to dig my fingers into Tony’s broad shoulders. Tony is, without the slightest bit of doubt, one of the most gorgeous men I have seen in a long time. Not that I’ve spent enough time away from work to have a broad sampling of eligible men.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a small, breathless voice calls from behind us. “I’m sorry, but do you happen to have room for a couple more people? You see, my friend and I have been planning this trip for a long time and we can’t get refunds if—”

  “Erin, what do you think you’re doing?” the girl’s friend shrieks. I wince at the high pitch of her spastic voice. “We said we weren’t going to do anything stupid, and now you’re asking strange men for a ride before we even get to New York!”

  Erin jerks out of her friend’s tight grasp, turning her attention back to us. “Sorry about Tracy, she doesn’t understand that we’re about to spend the first half of our Christmas break in a freaking airport in Washington D.C. if we don’t find a ride. So, do you hav
e room or not?”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Tracy hisses. Tony and I lean against the wall, waiting for the girls to get done bickering about the sanity of Erin’s idea. “We can’t just get in a car with them. What if they’re murderers or rapists or something?”

  I reach into my back pocket, handing my driver’s license over to the girls. “Look, normally I’d agree with Tracy, that’s your name, right?” I’m speaking more to the mousy girl hiding behind her friend. Erin probably didn’t make the smartest decision, running after a couple of strange men to beg a ride, but these are desperate times. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing had I been in her shoes. “But right now, she’s right. All flights are already filled through Saturday, and every flight depends on the weather.

  “Take a picture of my license and text it to someone so they know who you’re with. The only thing I’d ask is that you cover the license number.” Tracy tries to argue that it won’t be enough if we try to hurt them and I start to lose my patience. “If something happens to you, I assure you, they’ll have no problem finding me without the number. It’s a bit of security for you girls, but I’d prefer to not have a piece of my identity floating around for anyone to try to swipe.”

  “Oh, I suppose that makes sense,” Tracy mumbles, snapping a quick picture with her phone. She seems to be relaxing, which is good because I’m not in the mood for her to continue lecturing her friend all the way up the east coast. “I’ll text it to my sister. She’ll be the least likely to kill me for doing something to stupid.”

  “What about me? What if you try to kill me?” Tony quips. I stare at him, noticing for the first time that the other man has a gleaming white smile and freaking dimples.

  This drive is going to fucking kill me.

  I hold my license between two fingers, ignoring the zing I feel when Tony’s skin brushes against mine. “If you really think I’m going to somehow manage to overpower you, then you need the security as well. Honestly, I figured you were big enough to hold your own,” I tease. What started out as a tense and stressful leg of the journey is starting to look like it may not be so bad.

  Tony scans the license. He hands it back to me without taking a picture. “Interesting,” he mumbles under his breath as his eyes scan every inch of my body. The way he takes in my appearance makes me feel naked and unsettled.

  “What was that?” I ask, fidgeting under his scrutiny. “Thought you wanted to send someone a heads-up that you were riding up the east coast with a strange man.”

  “Nah, I just wanted to see if you’d fork it over,” Tony laughs. God, that laugh was something I could listen to all night and not tire of hearing. “Besides, now I know where you live in case I want to stalk you later.”

  I pick up my bags as the shuttle to the rental lot pulls up in front of the door. The four of us file onto the bus and ride in silence through the night. If I didn’t know how drastically the weather changes in this part of the country, it’d be hard to believe that there is already so much snow on the ground in New York that it isn’t safe to land a plane.

  The rest of my travel companions stay back while I fill out the paperwork and collect the keys. It isn’t a long walk to get to the Ford Escape that will hopefully get us safely to our destinations.

  “Hey, why don’t I drive?” Tony suggests, holding out his hands for the keys as I load the girls’ bags into the trunk. “You’re footing the bill, the least I can do is take the wheel so you can relax or do whatever you need so you’re ready for your meeting.”

  It’s not a bad idea. When I told Andrew that I’d handle this meeting for him, I wasn’t expecting my friend to agree. We used to work together, hunting for and investing in struggling businesses that had potential to succeed before I left town, but now I feel out of the loop. I’d turned my back on convincing business owners to give up some of the control in exchange for a better chance of surviving the cut-throat world.

  Business investments never satisfied me, which is why I found a way to combine my three loves in life: business, psychology, and being outdoors. I founded an adventure camp geared toward helping corporations think outside the box when it came to team-building. It should have been a perfect fit for my personality, but recently, I’ve found myself missing my old life more and more.

  This meeting would be a way to take a step back, quite literally, and figure out if my discontent is caused by a restless personality or something more. Besides, even I can’t deny that there is a satisfaction to be had from seeing the look of relief on a small business owner’s face as they realize their dreams aren’t dead. The change in travel plans means I’m not going to be able to spend my time on the plane learning everything I can about Patti and her pastries, and I need to go into this meeting knowing almost as much about the business as Patti does. If I can’t make her believe that, she’ll balk at the proposal.

  “That’d be great, but you’re not listed on the rental agreement.” I cringe at the resignation in my own voice. Not only that, but I realize I probably sound like some stick-in-the-mud who wouldn’t think about breaking the rules. That’s not an inaccurate assessment, but I’ve never thought of it as a bad thing the way I am right now. I’m beginning to feel as if every minute that passes makes me grow more unsatisfied with my life. After thinking about it for a few seconds, I start to consider his offer. It’s comforting to know that someone else wants to help out for once, which isn’t my style at all. Even more, I want Tony to know how much I appreciate the thoughtfulness.

  Tony reaches for the keys, curling his fingers tightly around mine for a few seconds before pushing the button to unlock the doors. The callouses on his fingers scrape against my skin, sending another wake-up jolt to my groin.

  “Easy enough to remedy. We’ll swing back by the counter before heading out and you can add me as an authorized driver. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take care of any fees if they want to charge you extra.” I stare at him over the roof of the car, soaking in the icy blue of his eyes. In the low fluorescent light, they look almost steely, while somehow still being soft and kind. Not that it matters, but I find myself wondering what his heritage is because the contrast between the darkness of his dark hair and olive skin tone compared to the translucence of his eyes is so stark. “Are we going to hit the road or would you rather bicker like a couple of old ladies for an hour or two?”

  “Just get in,” I concede, sliding into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll add you to the agreement, but I already told you that you’re not paying.” After a quick stop back at the rental counter, we’re finally ready to start our impromptu road trip. I slam the door closed and immediately turn my attention to the spreadsheets on my iPad. I struggle to focus on the figures on the screen with Tony trying to get comfortable in the seat next to me.

  Tony’s jeans look almost, but not quite, uncomfortably tight. They pull over his strong thighs, doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his zipper. It’s definitely been too long since I’ve gotten laid if I’m starting to fantasize about all the things I’d like to do to the stranger sitting next to me.

  The girls in the back seat quickly fall asleep, leaving only the sound of Tony’s humming to fill the space between us. I give up on the profit and loss statements for the time being, choosing to catch up on some of the outdoor adventure blogs. This way, I don’t have to feel bad when my attention isn’t where it’s supposed to be.

  “You don’t have to stay awake if you don’t want. I’ve driven this stretch of road so many times I could probably do it in my sleep.” Tony taps along with the stereo as we creep north on the freeway. I pictured Tony as the type to listen to classic rock, or maybe even contemporary alternative, and I laugh when I realize he’s singing along to the newest Taylor Swift song.

  “I’m good, but thanks,” I reply because it’s better than telling Tony that I won’t be able to ogle him if I close my eyes. Simply being in his presence throws me off-balance because I’m not the type of guy who ogles anyone.


  More than once, I go to ask Tony a question to start a conversation with him, but everything I think of sounds like a cheesy pick-up line. Instead, I go back to the blogs, dismayed when each article makes me feel more disconnected from that world.

  By the time we pass Baltimore, I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t insisted on flying to New York for my sister’s wedding. That decision didn’t do me a damn bit of good seeing as I had one of my buddies drive an hour to the airport, only to have the flight get cancelled and still wind up driving directly into the storm. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse to have Dominic sitting in the seat next to me because I’m definitely attracted to the man. But, I learned long ago that, outside of controlled environments, I suck at reading whether or not the men I’m attracted to like dick as much as do. My best friend loves to taunt me, saying that my ‘type’ is straight and unavailable. I’ll never admit to her how many times I’ve proven that assumption to be true.

  The girls fell asleep almost as soon as we were on the highway, so I can’t even make idle chit-chat with them to help break up the awkward silence. Dominic stretches in the passenger’s seat, resting his left arm casually on my headrest. I suck in a sharp breath to calm my out-of-control libido, immediately regretting the decision. Now that I’m familiar with the spicy scent of Dominic’s cologne, it’s the only thing I can smell. My mind starts drifting, wishing we were someplace a bit more private so I could encourage Dominic to wrap that arm around me instead of the seat.

  “Sorry about that.” Dominic drops his hand back to his knee. I look down at his long, thick fingers and consider reaching out to him. The worst he could do is turn down my advances. No, actually, the worst he could do would be to throw my sorry ass out on the middle of the highway to freeze to death, breaking my nose in the process for being stupid enough to hit on a straight guy. I grip the wheel tighter, keeping my attraction for the man kind enough to save my ass to myself.