The Hopeful Bride

Troy

Standing in baggage claim was torture. Fuck the no pictures rule. He should have forced Lisa to send him a photo of this girl.

But Lisa was legit. Her website showed happily married couples, and none of those women looked sketchy. The guys? Well, some of them were rough around the edges. Not that he was worried about that. He never really had a problem finding a woman. He just didn't have time for one. Didn't have time to play games or act coy. After his parents died, he was just over the bullshit of regular life.

He ran his hand through his wavy, brown hair, realizing it was a little longer than what he was used to. And his beard was fuller these days. Shit. He should have at least shaved. At the thought, he shook his head. It didn't matter. Not with this woman anyway.

If she was approved by Lisa, at least he knew she didn't do drugs, have any diseases, take medication, had a clean police record and went to college. He knew she would be what he needed. A homemaker who is his partner and if they were lucky, she would be someone warm to hold after a long day of hunting and fishing.

People passed him by, a handful of women pausing an extra second, looking him over, taking him in, smiling or biting their lips. Sticking their tits out and seeking his acknowledgment.

He hated women like that. He hoped his woman wasn't like that.

The crowd cleared. People grabbed their bags, and no one with a yellow scarf was anywhere to be seen. Disappointment rolled inside his gut. He hadn't realized how much he really wanted this girl to show up, come back home with him, and what? Fall in love? He snorted. Friendship. That's all he wanted.

He turned and stopped. There she was.

He couldn't see her face right away; she was looking at her phone. Clutching it like her life depended on it. She sat on top of her suitcase, legs crossed in tight blue jeans, a plain green top, leather jacket and yellow scarf. Her chestnut brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He knew instantly she was small enough to tuck under his arm.

That was her. His bride.

He made his way towards her, stopping just a bit away from her to get a better look. Watching as her eyes darted furtively around the baggage claim and he knew she was looking for her husband– she just didn't know who he was. He was the one with the clue, not her. In this scenario, Lisa told him that he was in the power seat. Knowing she'd be in a yellow scarf allowed him time to take her in before taking her home.

And damn did he want to take her home.

Her coffee brown eyes found him and he inhaled sharply as the whole damn airport seemed to go quiet. She was gorgeous, in a girl next door kind of way. Her eyes widened in understanding and she inhaled too. It seemed like she was surprised at first, then relieved, then hesitant. Shy almost.

He closed the gap between them coming to stand just a space away. "Hi."

"Hi." Her voice was soft. Velvety and rich with innocents. He immediately wondered if she was a virgin. Not that he would mind it, just, not what he had expected.

"I believe you're waiting for me." Troy said motioning to her suitcase. "Is that it?"

She startled and lurched upright, getting to her feet. He was right about her being small. She was delicate and petite, thin, but soft and full in the places that matter most. He could lift her right up into his arms. She would be the perfect size to handle and his hands itched to handle his woman. His bride.

"My name is Gabriella," she said, holding out a hand.

"Troy." He answered her unspoken question and looked down at her soft feminine hand outstretched towards him. He didn't want to shake her hand. He wanted to take her hand and pull her into him. To bend down and get a taste of his bride in the proper sense. A beat passed and he finally took her hand.

Her touch was warm and comforting, instantly he felt a special string tug at his heart. Now that he could fully see her face he took in her soft, full lips. Kissable lips.

"Are you him?"

The question made his brow rise as she pulled her hand away, his own hand now cold where hers had been.

"Excuse me."

Gabriella glanced around and then shifted closer, filling his nostrils with the floral scent of her perfume. "Are you the guy?" she asked as if she were sharing a secret.

Troy lips pulled into a smile, "Are you a friend of Lisa's?" he said just as quietly.

She nodded.

"Then yeah, I'm the guy." He said reaching for her suitcase and motioning for the exit. "Ready?"