Claire leaned closer to Macie, her voice low. “Can you believe he looked at me like that… but didn’t even speak?”
Macie just gave her a knowing glance. “He’s playing a game. Question is—are you going to play back?”
Before Claire could answer, Jaxon finally turned—his profile sharp beneath the brim of his hat. “Beer,” he called.
The bartender didn’t hesitate. “On your tab, yeah?”
“Thanks, Mike.”
And just like that, he turned to Claire.
His eyes locked on hers. “Where are you headed?” he asked, low and smug and infuriatingly familiar.
Claire arched a brow, resisting the smirk threatening her lips. “Wasn’t sure you recognized me. And if you did… I didn’t know if you’d bother to speak.”
Jaxon’s mouth quirked, almost a smile. “Yeah… sorry about that. I know how I left things at the airport. I’m just not used to flights like that. When we landed, I figured I wouldn’t see you again. So I left it there.”
She studied him for a second—every line of his face, every bit of casual armor he wore so damn well. Then she shrugged.
“Well, you figured wrong,” she said. And smiled.
He opened his mouth to say something else—but Taylor’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.
“Claire! You girls coming? We’re ready to order!”
Claire blinked, caught between two worlds. She turned back to Jaxon, her mind still spinning. She wanted more. She wanted to stay. But—
She caught a glimpse of the waitress walking past with a tray of food, and her stomach made the decision for her.
“I’m starving,” she said, grabbing Macie by the wrist. “That food looks amazing. Come on.”
She turned to Jaxon once more, the faintest glint in her eye.
“Guess I’ll see you around?”
“I guess so,” he replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
But as she walked away, Jaxon stood frozen at the bar—beer untouched.
Brows lifted. Jaw tight.
She left?
She actually fucking walked away?
Women didn’t do that. Not to him. Not ever.
Surely, it’s because of the airport, he thought. She’s making me pay for that.
But deep down?
It wasn’t just about the airport. It was about her. About the fact that—for once—he didn’t have the upper hand.
And he fucking hated it.
5
Tourist Trap
