Evelyn Felix Waits at Baggage Claim

Evelyn stumbles onto the tarmac, but a strong arm reaches out to steady her before she can face plant. The roughness of his hand sends a little bolt of electricity through her. She tries to keep her head down and away from the glaring sun, but gets an eyeful of tattoos on the man’s arm at her side.

A snake head sits just above his wrist, its tail crawling up and disappearing beneath his t-shirt. Her eyes continue up past his shoulder and settle on his strong jawline.

Fuck.

She takes a deep breath to calm her ovaries.

“What a gentleman,” she says as he guides her into the airport. He doesn’t let go. She looks around for signs directing them to baggage claim, but stops when he clears his throat.

“I don’t think you need to look far,” he says.

She follows his line of sight, and yes, he’s right. There is only one baggage claim area, and it’s right in front of them. The entire airport is basically visible from where they are standing.

“Traveling alone?” he says.

Evelyn’s head snaps up to look at the man. She pulls away slowly, and his hand finally drops from her elbow. He chuckles as he walks toward the carousel that has now come to life. Evelyn stays put and pulls out her phone to take it out of airplane mode.

After a while, she notices the man is standing in the same spot he settled in ten minutes ago. He is completely still, arms crossed, and staring at the carousel spinning aimlessly.

She stops her fake texting in the calculator app and stares. His muscles are huge. Evelyn bites her lower lip, taking in the snake as a whole, or at least the whole that she can see. Flowers and vines swirl up his arm alongside it. Other than the tattoos, he’s actually a pretty boring-looking man.

Blue jeans, black t-shirt, black baseball cap, and a grey backpack. She can see that jaw line from this angle, though. He’s a little unkempt with stubble and wisps of hair poking out of his cap, but they did just get off a plane.

Evelyn looks down at her scuffed sneakers, pilling sweatpants, and taps a hand on her loose top knot. She tugs at the scrunchie and, licking her hands, tries to smooth her hair into a neater updo.

He is unfazed as the bags start dropping noisily.

Evelyn sees her long, narrow bag coming around. She extends the handle of her carry-on suitcase and makes her way over. But once her bag reaches the man's line of sight, he grabs it and hoists it over his shoulder.

Son of a bitch!

He resumes his waiting.

“Hey!” Evelyn says. Everyone looks at her except the man currently stealing her bag.

She stomps toward him, but loses some ferocity the closer she gets.

Jesus, this man is built.

Deciding not to touch him, Evelyn positions herself between him and the carousel. She maneuvers the wheels of her suitcase to get it in front of her, and that seems to finally get his attention.

“Oh, hello again,” he says.

She squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eye.

“That’s my bag.”

He cocks his head and stares down at her.

“Okay,” he finally says, still not moving.

Is he trying to be cute?

“Check the tag!” she says, gesturing at his shoulder.

“Oh, this— What’s in the bag?”

“Is that really any of your business?” she says.

“I think if it’s my bag, yeah.”

“Just check the damn tag.”

He eases the bag to the floor. As he bends to flip the tag over, Evelyn watches the fabric of his shirt strain across his shoulders. Her breath hitches as it rises to reveal his back dimples.

“Ah, Evelyn Felix,” he says, “well, that’s certainly not my name.”

He stands up and holds the bag out to her.

“No shit.”

“Sorry, Miss Evelyn.”

Ew. Miss Evelyn sounds so… Well, good. It sounds pretty good.

His gaze returns once more to the carousel. Evelyn could leave. She has all her stuff now. But she just waits, staring at him as he stares at the carousel. After a few minutes, he steps around her and hoists a long, narrow bag over his shoulder.

He gets back in front of her.

“I guess you really weren’t stealing my bag,” she says.

He doesn’t move. Evelyn shifts uneasily and waves her hand in his line of sight.

His eyes slowly focus on her.

“Did you say something?”

“It’s a similar bag. Kind of.”

He stares at her.

“What’s in your bag?” she says.

He shifts his bag from one shoulder to the other.

“None of your business.”

“It was just a ques— Oh…Right. Whatever.”

He stares at her, dissecting her reaction to his statement. His joke?

“Are you from Yellowknife, Miss Evelyn?” he says.

“Um, no. Just visiting.”

“Me, too,” he pauses. “I live in Fort Mac.”

“No shit,” she says, nodding over her shoulder to the tarmac they just landed on.

He chuckles. She smiles up at him.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he says out of nowhere.

Evelyn’s eyes go wide, and she lets out a little cough.

“Ew, um… What?”

“Oh… Your bag.” He points at her shoulder quickly, before crossing his arms. Evelyn expects him to be embarrassed, but he maintains eye contact. She blinks a few times.

“Mine is a tripod,” Evelyn says.

He waits for her to whip it out, but she doesn’t move.

A speaker above them crackles to life. The announcement is barely legible and says something about a person needing to report somewhere. The person is not Evelyn. And the man in front of her stays put, so it’s obviously not him being summoned either.

“Not the best time of year for seeing the aurora,” he says.

“Yeah, well, this is when I was free,” she says.

“You’ll probably have to venture out late at night.”

“Um, yeah,” she says, then furrows her brows. “How do you know I’m here to see the northern lights?”

“You brought a big tripod.”

Observant? This guy?

“I could be photographing… wildlife… During the day.”

“Are you?”

“Or planes!”

“The float planes are nice,” he says, “but you’re probably here for the aurora.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m an officer back in Fort Mac.”

“Okay?”

“It’s not safe for women to walk alone at night.”

Ew.

“And what?” she says, crossing her own arms now. “It would be my fault if someone attacks me?”

“Well, no… No! Of course not,” he says.

She’s about to shame him for his hesitation, enjoying stressing him out, but he jumps back in with, “I could join you.”

What the fuck.

Her mouth hangs open, unable to form words, but he just calmly waits for her response.

“What are you… You want to join— What?”

“I can protect you.”

“Oh, good, so I can be blamed for willingly venturing into the dark with my murderer.”

He takes a moment to process Evelyn’s words.

“What? No. Not that.”

“Really? So you want to join me on your vacation out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Yes.”

“To protect the frail woman.”

“Ye— No! You’re not frail.”

“Why are you here?”

“Camping.”

“Do you have a gun in your bag?”

“Wha—” He struggles to find the right words as the people around him give him the side eye. Finally, he addresses the room with, “I don’t have a gun.”

Instead of calming the people invested in this conversation, he scares anyone who was half-listening.

He quickly drops to the floor, sliding the bag off his shoulder. He unzips it to reveal… paddles. He waves one around to the people watching.

“Seriously?”

“I’m camping, I told you!”

“Where is your boat?”

He looks to the carousel and, after a moment, points to a beast of a bag coming around. Once it’s right by Evelyn, he reaches past her close enough for her to smell his woodsy cologne. He lifts the bag easily.

“Here! My inflatable canoe!”

She watches him closely as he drops the big bag in front of her and kneels to place the paddles back in their bag.

“Fine, I believe—” Evelyn catches sight of his luggage tag. “Seriously?”

He looks up at her.

“What?”

“Skinner?” she says. He continues to stare, waiting for her to elaborate. “Your name is seriously Skinner?”

“Theo Skinner, actually.”

“What, do you skin women out in the woods?”

“Not women,” he says, choosing that moment to get back up to his full height.

Evelyn’s stomach drops. “What the fuck…”

He fixes his shirt before looking back at Evelyn. He puzzles over the alarm on her face and seems to rewind the conversation in his head.

“Not women… Fish.”

Evelyn’s freeze response takes a while to subside. Then, she can’t stop herself from bursting out laughing. “Why the fuck would you answer my question like that!”

She hates that this serial killer is making her laugh.

“I thought it was a joke,” Theo says.

“You thought I was joking about you skinning me alive!”

“Oh my.”

“With a name like Skinner, what am I supposed to think?”

“That it’s my name?”

She considers this for a while, looking him up and down. “Fair point.”

“Okay.”

“So what is your actual job, then?”

“Is Skinner a job title to you?”

“Answer the question.”

“I’m an officer. I think I mentioned it earlier…”

“Right,” she says, tapping at her chin. She feels a little claustrophobic in her position now, so she rolls her suitcase and circles him. Maintaining eye contact, he rotates with her. “But what kind of officer?”

“A patrol officer.”

“Ahah!” Theo and everyone around them are unfazed by Evelyn raising her voice. “You work directly with criminals! You are playing mind games with me!”

“Wha—”

Evelyn waves a finger in his face. “You learnt from the best!”

He falters, trying to catch up with the conversation. “No! I think you’re mixing up words in your head—”

“Likely story,” she says.

“I mainly deal with traffic violations.”

Evelyn's hand freezes. She slowly drops it, trying to maintain eye contact but instead drifting upward to eye a giant polar bear statue above his head. She taps on the outstretched handle of her suitcase in front of her. She looks at the carousel over his shoulder.

“Do you have all your luggage?” he says.

“Hm?”

“It’s the same bags going round the carousel now… Is one yours?”

“Oh,” she looks back at him. “No, yeah, I have everything I need.”

She could definitely leave now, but that snake. It’s looking directly at her. She catches a bit of drool trying to escape the corner of her mouth.

“Do you have everything you need?” she says.

He looks Evelyn up and down. Assessing.