Read Online Oh Stupid Heart by Liza O'Connor - Free Book Online Page B

intensity of his
feelings for Carrie, he’d spend every waking hour trying to seduce her.
    For some perverse
reason, Sam obsessed over anything he had. His driver dated the same type of
women he liked, and evidently on occasion the same women.
    He intended to lodge
another complaint with Mars. Sam should get his own life.
    “Trent, did you hear
what I just said?” Carrie asked.
    “Sorry, Sam was
distracting me.”
    “I said, ‘I love you’.
I’m glad you reminded me of our agreement.”
    “Me, too.”
    Assured all was well
between them, he let Carrie to make her other call. His driver glared at him
through the rearview mirror, but he didn’t care. Carrie remained his. Nothing
else mattered.

Chapter 7
    Carrie called the airline
and tried to change her flight back to her original schedule but her seat had
already been snatched up. If only she’d given Trent a chance to explain first.
    When he arrived, she
confessed she’d moved her flight to early morning. She expected him to be hurt
and angry, but while expressing disappointment, he didn’t yell at all, which
made her feel even worse. If only she had kept to their agreement and talked
before getting hurt.
    Having just the night
to spend together, they stayed in, cuddled on her sofa, watching a movie based
in dreary San Francisco on her twenty-four inch TV.
    The next morning, he
carried her suitcase down and handed it to his snarly driver before joining her
in the backseat.
    The trip to the
airport had never seemed shorter. Once there, she stayed with Trent as long as
she dared before entering security and hurrying to her plane. Reaching the gate
as they were making last call for boarding, she settled in her first class seat.
She closed her eyes and replayed every moment of the most romantic non-sex
night she’d ever had.
    They’d fed each other
curry flavored popcorn, nibbling and tongue-teasing each other’s fingers. Never
had she realized how stimulating eating seasoned snacks could be. She wasn’t
sure why they persisted in not having sex, because she couldn’t love Trent more
than she did now. He was everything to her.
    ***
    The moment she
stepped off the plane, Carrie hated San Francisco for being so far away from
NYC and Trent. She squinted at the blinding light streaming in from the large
airport windows. Where was the mist and gloom? At least then her mood and
weather would get along. The sun made her wish Trent had come with her. Last
time she’d let a movie establish her weather expectations.
    A giant black guy
wearing a wrinkled ill-fitted suit stood among a small herd of limo drivers,
holding up a sign with Hanson scrawled in black marker. She approached and
smiled at him.
    He glanced down at
her, then returned to watching the people headed to the luggage carousels.
    Frustrated by his bad
manners and worried someone might snatch her bags, she spoke in a snippy tone,
“Any chance you might like to help get my suitcases, or shall I come back after
I’ve managed it on my own?”
    He returned his gaze
to her and frowned. “You’re Hanson?”
    She nodded, finally
understanding the guy’s behavior. He still searched for his client. “Carrie
Hanson from Lancaster Chairs.”
    Oddly, his frown
remained. “May I see some ID?”
    Never in all her
travels had any limo driver asked to see her ID. “Why?”
    “Because my ‘Hanson’
is an executive, not a kid.”
    Her face burned with
embarrassment and anger. She pulled out her passport and thrust it at him.
“Would you get my bags now?”
    “Shit, I’m sorry,
Miss Hanson. It’s just you look—” He stopped himself, evidently realizing stating
the obvious would only push his foot further down his throat. “I’ll get your
luggage.” He rushed to the carousel, leaving her and her tiny, childlike legs
to follow.
    “You’re not mad at
the driver,” she counseled herself. “You’re angry at San Francisco for being so
far from Trent.”
    By the time she
arrived at the carousel, the driver had