Her mouth parts in surprise, forcing my eyes to drop to her lips. Her full, red lips that she slowly runs the tip of her tongue across like she knows I’m sex starved and two seconds away from coming in my pants.
Just then, the tinny, annoying opening notes of the worst song in the history of the world breaks into our silent moment, making Noel laugh when I growl and shake my head in annoyance. Moving a safe distance away from her, I curse Dominic the mother fucking donkey.
“What about your family?” Noel suddenly asks, her body still facing mine. She rests her elbow on the edge of the bar and sets her cheek in her palm while she waits for me to answer. “I’m sure they have a little crazy in them. Don’t make me be the only one giving it up.”
Smiling wickedly at her choice of words, I watch her cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“I mean, giving up the goods,” she quickly adds, making it impossible for me not to laugh. “Stop laughing, I heard it as soon as I said it. You know what I meant. Spill.”
I’d much rather talk about her giving up the goods, but whatever.
“Sorry to kill your dreams, but you win this round for crazy family because I don’t have one.”
“Everyone has a family,” she responds.
“Not me,” I shrug. “I grew up in the system. Bounced around between foster homes until I was eighteen and joined the marines.”
I hate the look of pity on her face. This is why I keep to myself, and why I’m still wondering why the fuck I sat down next to her thirty minutes ago and haven’t been able to walk away.
“Okay, but you have friends, right?” she asks softly.
“The men in my squadron in the Marines. They’re my friends.”
Noel scoffs and shakes her head at me. “They’re your co-workers. I’m talking about people you call in the middle of the night when you need bail money, or someone to hold back your hair after a night of heavy drinking when a guy ignores the words you’ve been saying for a year and shits all over your heart.”
One eyebrow goes up and I look at her questioningly.
“Figuratively speaking, of course,” she adds.
“I have a goldfish named Thor. But I don’t think he’d be very good at holding back my hair. And if he took a shit on my heart I’d just flush him down the toilet,” I inform her.
“A goldfish is a good start, I guess,” she shrugs. “You should probably work on something of the human persuasion that can actually talk back to you.”
“I’m never home, so what’s the point? I’ve done just fine by myself for thirty-five years,” I inform her. “Also, can a goldfish survive eighteen months without food?”
Noel mutters under her breath and I realize that sitting here riling her up is the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.
“Probably not,” she tells me. “You didn’t ask a neighbor or something to feed him? Wait, let me guess. You don’t have any neighbors either?”
A smile is my only answer and I laugh when she rolls her eyes at me.
“No neighbors. I live in the middle of nowhere on ten acres. My closest neighbors are the Amish, and they’d probably frown on my porn collection if I gave them a key to the house.”
Her mouth drops open once more and just like a few minutes ago, my eyes fly right to her lips, wondering if she’d be opposed to kissing a strange man she just met at the airport. And if not, I wonder if she’d be opposed to fucking a strange man in the bathroom.
“Wait, Amish?” she asks, breaking into my thoughts of bending her over the bathroom sink. “My parents live close to there too. Are you from Ohio?”
“Yep. All my life,” I confirm.
“Jesus. Talk about a coincidence.” She smiles. “We must be on the same flight.”
“Three o’clock to Cleveland?” I ask in shock.
She nods. “Well, what was supposed to be three o’clock. What time is it now?”
Pulling my cell out of my pants pocket, I check the time and see it’s almost seven at night. I open my mouth to tell her when my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
“Well, would you look at that?” I muse as I tap the screen. “We can now begin boarding at gate C7.”
Noel and I quickly gather our things and spend a few seconds arguing about who is going to pay the tab. I snatch the check out of the bartender’s hand faster than she can and pull my wallet out of my back pocket while she glares at me in the most adorable fucking way.
Fucking hell. I’m a Marine, dammit. We don’t use the word adorable and yet, I keep doing it with Noel. I need an intervention.
Tossing some cash on the bar top, I give the bartender an awkward nod when she wishes me a Merry Christmas and ignore the questioning look from Noel when I don’t give the woman the customary reply. I don’t really feel like ruining the good time I’ve had with Noel by explaining to her how asinine it is for everyone to throw those words around when they mean nothing. Holding my elbow out like the gentleman I am, Noel slides her small hand through the crook of my arm and we make our way to our gate, enjoying our last few minutes together since I’m sure we won’t be sitting by each other.