Kismet by Cassie Decker Page B

swell of pride. His own family hadn’t really seen how much he had invested in his web design business. They didn’t understand how strongly he needed something of his own, something he alone was responsible for.
    He gave Cal a grateful smile and then the two were quiet for a moment, pulling off sips of their coffees while Cal raked his eyes over Tucker from head to toe. Tucker felt a flush of arousal at Cal’s slow perusal, and he looked away. A low chuckle quickly brought his gaze back up to see Cal’s blue eyes dancing with mirth when they connected with Tucker’s.
    “Now, let me guess,” he said. “You were so excited to get going to that big ole convention that you got to the airport nice and early so you’d have plenty of time for a hot beverage and a stimulating conversation with a handsome stranger before catchin’ that plane?”
    Tucker laughed outright then, loud and ringing throughout the café. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and blushed when he saw other patrons in the shop turning to look at him with unmasked curiosity. Cal’s expression softened and he chuckled too, leaning forward in his chair a bit, patting Tucker’s knee in a comforting manner and awaiting his reply. Tucker glanced down to Cal’s mouth, seeing him parting his plush lips on an exhale, and he almost forgot what he was about to say.
    “I—I didn’t find out that there was a delay on my flight until I had already gotten through security,” Tucker stammered, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. “I’ve still got like almost two hours and… oh shit .” Tucker’s stomach twisted nervously when he saw what time it actually was. He had less than ten minutes to make it to his gate. How the hell had time gone by so fast?
    Scrambling to stand and gather up and untangle the straps from his laptop bag and carry-on beside his chair, Tucker muttered out an apology, his face positively burning with embarrassment.
    Cal stood too, a concerned frown tugging at his mouth. “Where’s the fire?”
    Tucker looked up at him, swallowing hard. He really, really could not miss this flight, but seeing Cal there before him almost made him want to. How could he walk away when they’d only just met?
    “My plane,” he said, his voice unsteady as he tried to offer up some sort of explanation as to why he was suddenly so desperate to make an exit.
    Understanding broke across Cal’s face and he held out his hand, palm up, like he was expecting Tucker to put something in it. Tucker looked down at his hand then back up to Cal’s face, utterly dumbfounded.
    “Your phone, kid,” Cal said with a grin. “Lemme put my number in it while you get yourself together, and when you get back here to good ole Colorado, you hit me up, okay?”
    Tucker nodded emphatically, not even bothering to hide his enthusiasm, and shoved his phone into Cal’s hand. He knew he’d be texting him as soon as his plane hit the tarmac in Boston; the last thing he wanted was to lose the connection that had already started forming between them.
    Bending down, Tucker went about the task of untangling the straps from his two bags with fingers that suddenly seemed aggravatingly uncoordinated while Cal typed away on his cell. When he finally stood and settled first his carry-on and then laptop bag over his shoulder with a satisfied sigh, Cal slipped his phone into the back pocket of his jeans with a lingering caress. That damn charming lopsided smile curved up one corner of the cowboy’s mouth, and heat immediately pooled low in Tucker’s belly, making his jeans seem a little tighter. He felt himself listing forward like a ship cut loose of its moorings, helplessly drawing closer to the man before him until he was pressing gently against Cal’s solid chest.
    Cal looked down at him, his eyes darkening considerably as he lowered his head. His lips came to hover just inches from Tucker’s, and the warmth of his coffee-scented breath washing against his skin