Finding Home by Aine Kelley Page A

regularly? Or better yet, ‘Hey, how’ve you been dealing with the death of your fiancé?’ Yeah, that will be a great conversation starter.
    The stomach acid continues to rise up my throat from the panic. The pain in my chest is nothing new. Placing my hand over my heart, I focus in on my breathing. Please, no panic attack right now. Oh God! I have a tendency to ramble and blurt out stuff when I’m anxious or uncomfortable with silence. This situation has both rolled into one. As I breathe, Jenny’s face comes into view. I definitely have murder on the brain. I’m going to kill Jenny.
    I head to baggage claim and wait in the mass of people. They all look the same, as if in some weird hypnotic trance watching the carousel spin around.
    My bags finally arrive, and I try to balance them on the small cart. Heading out to the main pick up area, I look around for Ben. Jenny said that he’d be near the short-term parking area. I scan the large crowd hoping to see him. What I find surprises me. Ben’s holding a large white sign with bold black writing stating: Jenny Bean’s friend, Sam. He holds it high above his head, towering over everyone else. Damn, he has to be at least six-three. I could die right now from embarrassment. It’s during my moment of self- mortification that I allow my eyes to peruse and wander down his body.
    Starting at his hands that grip the sign, I note his fingers. They look long and strong, like they could move fast and furiously on my… snap out of it! My eyes continue down and lock on his arms. Holy biceps! Years of playing rugby did his body good. Those arms could easily pick me up like a rag doll and pin me against the wall. I am looking at sex on a stick.
    I haven’t dared to look at his face yet because all I see is his chest. Hot damn it’s solid. It’s covered by a Henley t-shirt, but I can see a small strip of his toned stomach peeking out. My body’s grateful for the effort he’s putting into displaying this sign.
    Sighing, I close my eyes before I look at his face. Slowly, I open them to find…oh shit, he’s totally staring at me. He completely watched me checking him out. I’ve been so absorbed in my eye-fucking that I never noticed him looking at me. Horrified, I try to put on my best Sam smile and make my way over to him. I try not to stare directly into his eyes. I can only imagine what he must be thinking.
    As I approach, I realize I have to say something to him. What will I say? I haven’t a clue. I just have to say something, anything, but it couldn’t be any worse than him being my personal eye candy. Bravely, I look up at him and try to open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s amazingly beautiful. I’m speechless. And I’m never speechless.
    The picture Jenny has of him doesn’t do him justice. Dark brown hair that’s all kinds of messy, gray eyes that have specks of blue thrown in for good measure, framed by thick eyelashes. I see a small scar above his left eyebrow that adds to his sexiness. Oh, and his mouth. His lips appear soft, plump and kissable. I’m thinking that with the lips, mouth, and his strong jaw line, he’s a triple threat. There’s no doubt in my mind that they have the ability to wreak havoc all over my body. Now, if his tongue pops out, I could probably have a mini-orgasm right now at baggage claim. Definitely sex on a stick. Can I get a lick please?
    Ben clears his throat, and it startles me awake from my dirty thoughts. “I’m thinking you must be Sam. I really hope so because if I bring home the wrong person Jenny will kill me.”
    I laugh and try not to sound like an idiot. “That’s me. I’m Sam. Love the sign by the way. Very Say Anything .” He looks at me strangely, like I just spoke in a foreign language. I quickly fumble for something to say. “You know the movie, right? The boom box scene? It’s one of my favorites. You holding the sign up reminded me of it.” Okay Sam, stop rambling. “Anyway, never mind. I’ve got