“It’s okay.” Zeta smoothed a hand down over the back of Elisa’s head. “It’s okay. No one’s angry with you. You did good.”
Her stomach clenched. Damn it, what was wrong with her? It had been four months since her last anxiety attack, and she’d honestly thought she’d gotten her act together. Damn it.
Did good.You did good.
She forced her mind to cling onto Zeta’s words. Played them over and over.
You did good.
Had she though? She’d made a custom official angry and probably embarrassed herself in front of the cute Australian and what happened if they pulled her aside and interrogated her about the Hershey Kisses in her bag? What if she’d forgotten to declare something on her entry card? Owen had told them before they left the US Australia was very strict about what it allowed to be brought into the country. What if the little watercolor painting she’d done for Bria of their childhood dog on home-made paper was illegal here and she—
“Lis,” Zeta whispered, smoothing her hand over her hair again. “You’re going to be okay. You’re amazing. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t—”
“She okay?”
Elisa’s frenzied heart smashed up into her constricted throat and she stiffened in Zeta’s arms. That voice… So male and Australian…
“Hi,” Zeta said, a wary happiness in her voice. “She’s okay. Maybe. It’s been a long flight.”
“You just get in from the flight from LA?” the distinct Australian voice asked. “Yeah, me too. I never enjoy it. You sure she’s okay? Anything I can do? It’s Elisa, right?” Fingertips gently touched her shoulder—a barely there contact, but enough to let Elisa know the cute Australian in the gray suit was standing right next to her.
Oh boy.
Inching her way out of Zeta’s arms, she gave him a wavery smile. “I’m okay.”
Worry swam in those incredible eyes of his. His Adam’s apple slid up and down the smooth brown column of his throat. “Sure?”
She nodded. Gave another smile. And a sniff. Worry moved to his frown. Great. No doubt he now thought she was broken or something.
Well, you kinda are. Sometimes.
He studied her, flicked a glance at Zeta, and then studied her again. If he was taken back by their identical likeness, he didn’t show it. It was almost impossible to tell them apart on appearance alone—even their parents had difficulty sometimes. They were both five foot six, with strawberry-blond hair that hung around their shoulders in messy waves, freckles, and a subtly square jaw, thanks to their Sicilian father—but they were worlds apart in personality. For starters, Zeta would never be borderline breaking down with anxiety over a throw-away comment from a customs official. Anxiety and Zeta didn’t gel.
Zeta was all snark and sarcasm. And occasionally, bite.
With another sniff, she gave herself a little mental shake and smiled at the hot Aussie in the suit. “I’m really okay. Thank you though, for checking. Nothing a shower, a bed, and some food won’t fix.”
“I can help with that,” he said, his smile warm. Dio, he was so cute. “The food I mean. I can’t help with the shower and the bed.”
A tight sensation fluttered in Elisa’s stomach, and she bit her bottom lip. Damn it, now she was thinking of what he would look like out of the gray suit and in a shower.
Oh baby…
“You could try,” Zeta suggested with a sharkish grin.
“Zeta,” Elisa groaned.
He chuckled, throwing Zeta another quick glance, and smiled at Elisa again. “If you’re interested, I know a place that does an incredible breakfast.”
Zeta slung her arm around Elisa’s shoulder. “Sounds perfect.”
“No it doesn’t,” Elisa said.
The gorgeous Australian stiffened. “Sorry.” He took a step back. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying to…” His Adam’s apple jerked up and down in his throat.
Elisa blinked. Why was he suddenly—
Ah, crap. Of course. She must have sounded horrible. “I mean,” she burst out, holding up her hand, “our sister is no doubt waiting on the other side of customs with her fiancé. They drove over two hours to pick us up.” She fixed Zeta a pointed look, a tightness twisting in her stomach. Damn it, now she was going to freak out all over again for offending someone she didn’t know. Why couldn’t she just get a grip on her stupid anxiety?