Brady opened his door and shoved a bag toward her. "I brought you something, just in case. And here's a cup of hot chocolate."
She peered into the bag--a cheeseburger, fries and, in another bag, a giant chocolate chip cookie. "Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"My treat." He set his own large drink into the holder in the console. "It's a madhouse in there. I think we're gonna be here a while."
M.J. bit into the burger and moaned. "Oh, God, this is good. I haven't eaten since breakfast. I couldn't bear the thoughts of going in there to stand in line, though. Thank you, again."
"No problem. I caught some news in there. The storm just buried Cleveland, and it's heading southeast. I'm not sure you're going to make it through to Pittsburgh tonight."
"I have to. I still need to shop tomorrow." She took a sip of her drink. "I don't usually accept rides from strangers. Just so you know."
"And I don't generally pick up stranded women at the airport. I could be a serial killer, though." He grinned.
"Not unless you count dead relationships," he mumbled before taking a bite of his sandwich.
"I've never killed anything bigger than a spider."
"Are you meeting family or friends at the resort?" she asked.
She waited, but nothing more was offered.
"You're spending Christmas alone?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"I think it's sad."
"What about you? Not taking a boyfriend along to visit your family?"
"No, he's... We... I want to spend this Christmas just with my family."
He grinned. "Uh-huh. He refused to join you?"