When they got to the bus, the door was open, so they knocked and went on up, heaving their suitcases behind them. Shelby called out hello as they went, imbued with confidence after Kyle’s texts.
The bus lounge was full of people. Kyle took one look at Shelby and swept her up for a repeat of the farewell kiss he’d planted on her not that many days before. She surfaced pink and delighted, her carefully arranged hair in disarray, a smile illuminating her face.
“And they’re back!” he announced, straightening his signature furry vest. Cady had to settle for a kiss on the cheek, which suited her just fine. She was on edge, waiting to see if Reid would emerge from the kitchen, or come up the stairs behind them as he’d done on their first bus day.
Alison looked across from her seat at the computer. “Hello,” she conceded.
Well, it wasn’t exactly warm, but it was better than the oh-my-God, matchy-matchy references from their first encounter.
“Hi,” they both replied.
Cady glanced over to the corner of the lounge, where three unfamiliar men were sitting silently. Two of them had skinheads, and the other had dark dreadlocks. All three of them wore an expression befitting a villain in a Bourne film.
Before she could ask who they were, or introduce herself and Shelby, Jennifer and Gavin came out from the kitchen, and there were warmer hellos.
“Heard you ladies were coming,” Gavin said. “Been living the high life on the estate, what ho.”
Cady had to laugh. “What ho?”
“Santa Almendra. Pretty big deal.” He waggled his eyebrows behind his square, black-rimmed glasses.
Kyle kept his arm around Shelby. “You come from good stock,” he told her, with a wink.
“Mm.” For a moment Shelby’s face reflected her distaste for Holt’s not-so-good actions. But she let it go—she was obviously enjoying her spot too much to ruin it with any negative comments.
“Fell on your feet there,” Alison commented.
“I suppose so,” Cady said. The three scary stooges listening in the corner were making her uncomfortable. She glanced their way again. They were skinny, narrow-eyed characters, like a team of dangerously surly weasels.
“Oh right,” Kyle said. “Cady and Shelby, this is Isaac, Dean and Brew.”
Brew? Okay. “Hi,” Cady said, echoed by Shelby.
In return, three staunch eyebrow flashes and lifted chins came back their way. “Hey,” said the hairy one.
Cady had no idea which of them was which, but she gave a feeble wave and turned back to Kyle. “Thanks for having us back.”
“That’s okay,” he replied. “Not sure about the bed situation, is the only thing…”
“Oh.” Cady looked at the three guys in the corner. She didn’t suppose they’d be giving up their beds any time soon.
Shelby was determinedly unfazed though, just happy to be back in Kyle’s company. “We’ll sort something out,” she declared.
Kyle gave her a smile. “We will. Come on, London,” he said. “Let’s get reacquainted.”
Shelby followed him upstairs, looking like all her Christmases had come at once. On the other hand, Alison’s expression looked more suited to Halloween than Christmas. Cady could see why. Wow, he moved fast. Something to do with their unexpected lift in fortunes? She knew Shelby wouldn’t be questioning his sudden turn-around though—she’d be throwing herself into it. Cady wondered what she’d make of the chaos that awaited her up there. Or maybe he’d tidied up. She doubted Shelby would be focusing on the décor, anyway.
She stood in the center of the lounge with two suitcases and her own shoulder bag. What now?
“Reid’ll be back soon,” Gavin said. “He’s been at his mom and dad’s. He was going to come in time for the flash mob tomorrow, but when I told him you two were on your way, he said he’d come back earlier.”
Her stomach lurched. Steady, she told it. “Cool, it’d be cool to see him. I mean okay, great.”
Gavin laughed. “Yeah, cool.”
Jennifer smirked, and Alison rolled her eyes and turned back to the computer.
Oh, that was not cool. Way to not keep your cool. She wanted to kick her own arse. Or ass, as he’d say. She’d better keep it together more convincingly when he got here.
“I have to get on,” Jennifer said. “There are still a few things to do before tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Alison said sharply. “Things that won’t get done in bed.”
Ouch. If that look shot actual daggers, Cady would be dead right now. For a second she felt like she should apologize, but the moment passed. She wasn’t her sister’s keeper. Heaven help any person who found themselves with that job. There were times when she felt responsible, sure—but Shelby would never let herself be ‘kept’ anyway.
“Come on,” Gavin said to her now. “You probably need a drink after that drive. Cold or hot?”
“Cold, thanks.” She definitely didn’t need any extra hotness at this point. She shoved the suitcases into a corner and followed him into the kitchen, glad to get away from the intimidating gaze of the new trio.
They sat at the kitchen table and chatted. It was a relief to just shoot the breeze with Gavin, whose straightforward humor made him easy company. She wanted to ask about the new guys, but she didn’t want them to hear. Later, maybe.
She was halfway through the Bud Gavin had given her when she heard someone else arrive. There was no way to prevent the hot flush that rushed to her cheeks as she turned in her chair and peeked through to the lounge, knowing who she’d see.
Reid was greeting Baldy, Baldy and Hairy with gusto, shaking their hands and giving each one a slap on the shoulder. The three of them had actually gotten up, even, and there was a round of vigorous man-slapping. They didn’t seem like Reid’s type, Cady thought, surprised at his enthusiasm. But then, let’s face it, she didn’t know him well enough to say what was his type.
She pressed her cold beer bottle hand on her cheek, hoping to cool it before he turned and saw her. There was nothing cool about the last time they talked. She had no idea what he’d say, if things would be different between them in person, or if the sudden hanging up was a sign of how it would be now.
But when he came into the kitchen and saw her, he grinned.
“Lady Cady,” he said, with grandeur, then came over and pressed his lips to her cheek. He let the kiss last a little longer than necessary, and she felt herself breathing out, her eyes closing as she soaked in his closeness.
Then he stepped back and she pulled herself together, aware of Gavin watching them.
Reid looked around. “Where’s your sister?”
She scrunched up her face. “Upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” He looked at her, and she could see realization dawning as she nodded. “Oh. Upstaaairs.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yup. Kyle was like a heat-seeking missile.”
Gavin laughed. “That’s exactly what he was like. Okay, I’d better get moving. I have a client who couldn’t wait for the end of summer to see me.” He looked at them. “If you stand still long enough you’ll find yourselves with jobs.”
“I’m happy to help,” Cady said. “I don’t want to be a freeloader.” It felt wrong to not be involved. After Rownville, she felt a real—if unjustified—ownership in Flashpoint. Now, although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she was jealous of the others, working away.
“Nah, actually, we’ve got this,” Gavin replied. “We’ve hardly had to do anything, really. Kyle says it’s basically done.”
“Oh. Well, okay then. If you’re sure…”
He gave her a thumbs-up as he left the kitchen.
Then it was just the two of them. Reid leaned against the cabinets in the same place as that morning after the Rownville celebrations, when he’d been wearing only his boxers and t-shirt, and a bed-sexy morning vibe. She blinked firmly to try and erase the image. There was no way she’d be able to concentrate with that in her head, as well as the real, fully clothed, deal righ
t in front of her.
“Come on,” he said to her. “If they don’t need us, let’s take a walk.”
“Okay.” Suddenly she didn’t mind so much that they didn’t need her, if the compensation was time alone with him. What would he say—if anything—about the phone call? And what would she say, come to that?
They went out through the lounge, past the three new guys.
“Later,” Reid told them, and they acknowledged him with various grunts. They didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular, other than maintaining a hoodlum-ish aspect.
It was a relief to leave the strange atmosphere on the bus. As they walked down the street, she was acutely aware of him next to her—the occasional hints of his cologne, the way he walked, with easy, long strides. The space between them felt like it was humming with suppressed energy. Or maybe the way she felt inside was spilling into her aura, making it vibrate with Reid-ness.
“So, how are you?” His voice was relaxed. He was obviously not feeling as tightly wound as she was.
“I’m good, thanks. Yeah, good.” She didn’t add, I’m also ready to step right over, hustle you against a shop-front and disgrace myself in public. Oh, and what was that phone call all about? She cleared her throat. “Your mum and dad’s place sounds nice. Did you have a good visit home?”
“I did, thanks.”
She’d given him a sliver of an opening, but nothing more was forthcoming. Should she bring up the phone-sex-that-almost-was, or should she wait and see what he said? If he said anything at all. As she was tossing it up, they turned the corner, and she realized that they seemed to be going in a particular direction. “Where are we going?”
He stopped suddenly. “Here.”
She looked up at the green canopy. “Dynamo Donut and Coffee,” she read.
“Can’t ever go wrong with donuts and coffee,” he said. “I recommend the maple-glazed, apple bacon variety.”
She looked at him. “The…really? That’s an actual thing?”
“Sure.”
She shook her head. “Seriously. Only in America.” She paused. “I’ll take one.”
“You won’t regret it,” he promised.
“Hm, I’m not sure about that.”
“I’ll get a selection, just in case.” They went up to the window and ordered donuts and coffee, and came away with a box full of sugary bliss.
“We’ll never eat all those,” she said.
“That’s not the point.”
She laughed. “Where shall we sit?”
“Ah,” he said. “Come with me. Not far.”
He set off down the street and she followed, intrigued. They crossed York Street, and a few doors further on he stopped by a green iron fence. “Here,” he said.
She peered through the bars at the park, captivated. “Oh! How did you know about this?”
It was a magical place, a little gem in the middle of the city. Colorful murals enlivened the walls and the sides of neighboring buildings, and at the back of the park a spectacular mosaic-tiled snake slunk around, dipping in and out of the very ground. Its mirror-glass eyes reflected the light, and the rich colors of the cut tiles glowed in the sun. It sported fearsome white teeth and an air of exotic slithery danger.
“I have a friend who likes it here. But actually, I know all kinds of things.” He winked.
“I bet.”
“For example,” he said, holding the gate open and following her in, “that…is Quetzalcoatl.” He swept an arm out in front of him, following the line of the vividly colored snake.
“I’m sorry, quetz-a-wha?”
“Quetzalcoatl,” he said, letting it trip off his tongue.
“Bless you,” she said.
He laughed. “I give up.”
They sat and watched the children race around, squealing and shouting as they clambered on the big snake’s jeweled length. Where its tail curled around, jets of water shot out of the ground every now and then, and the kids danced under the sparkly droplets, loving the imaginary danger. Looking at them, she felt the familiar achy heart. She understood how Cady Greenwood might become bitter, having had and then lost her chance at motherhood. It was tough enough for this Cady, quietly getting to grips with maybe never being a mother herself.
“So, how was it? What was your father like?”
She turned her attention back to him, putting those thoughts out of her mind. He was holding out the donut box and waiting for her answer.
She took one of the maple-glazed, apple bacon extravaganzas. “He was…more complicated than we imagined.” She chose her words carefully. There was no need to share the less-than-savory details, when she was still processing them herself. “But he was glad to see us. He doesn’t have a family himself.”
“Did he know about you?”
“He did.” She took a bite of the donut. “Huh. Surprisingly good.”
Somewhere along the way, she’d gotten comfortable in Reid’s presence. It wasn’t that she stopped noticing every aspect of him, or that her body had gone off high alert. But she’d relaxed into it. It felt good.
“Told you,” he said. He reached out and gently brushed her chin with his thumb. “Powdered sugar.”
Her heart practically stopped in her chest, but she took the chance for a comeback. “Thanks, Honey,” she replied, making him grin.
“Handed you that one,” he said.
She just nodded, her mouth full of donut again. Not graceful, but it was just too good to care. With the sun warming her hair, sweetness in her mouth and a hot guy beside her, it was easy to let everything troubling slip away. This counted as one of life’s peak moments.
“Is that how they let you eat in the castle?” he asked. “Medieval style. Just need to give you a giant drumstick next.”
She swallowed, and gave him a faux stern look. “You don’t want to know what we do to traitorous subjects with drumsticks.”
He laughed. “No, I probably don’t. Consider me back in line.” He paused, then abruptly switched tack. “So, last night.”
Instantly she was back on alert, the easy comfort replaced with a hum of tension. “Last night,” she echoed, wiping her sugary mouth.
“Yeah.” He looked at her. Beneath the dark, straight brows, his tiger eyes were full of familiar mischief, his expression loaded. “Remember it?”
She took a sip of her coffee, looking away sideways. The heat from the sun was nothing on the burn that had sparked up in her body, and she shifted on the hard bench under his insistent, amused gaze. “Is this a suitable place to have this conversation?”
“No. Not at all.” He was unabashed. “And if you need to ask that, I think you must remember.”
“Oh, I remember. I remember you leaving me in the lurch.” She tried to repeat her earlier teasing glare, but couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes now that they were on this topic. Being hung up on so abruptly, just as she’d let her inhibitions drop, leaving her exposed figuratively and nearly literally…that was pretty brutal.
“I’m sorry about that.” He did sound sorry. “Something came up.”
Strung tight with nerves and fraught attraction, she burst out laughing at his double entendre, almost snorting coffee out of her nose. Coughing and spluttering, she managed to look at him, and was satisfied to see his embarrassed expression.
“I bet it did,” she said. Oh, that was too, too good.
He gave a rueful smile. “Go ahead, enjoy. I earned it.”
“You did,” she said, still giggling. “And I will.”
After that, the tension was broken.
“I felt bad, but I just wasn’t able to ring you back,” he said. “I really am sorry.”
She wanted to ask why, but he didn’t offer a reason. Like so many other times, he gave only so much, and kept the rest back.
“That’s why I came today,” he added. “When Gav said you were both coming back. I figured I owed you more than a phone call or a text.”
“Well. Thanks. I appreciate that
.” It would be even nicer if he added, and I wanted to see you again. Or if he told her why he hadn’t been able to ring her back. But he didn’t. It drove her mad, but that was him. She could fight it, or she could forgive him and slide a tiny bit closer, until her shoulder was just a millimeter, a nanometer, from his. She chose the second, and they sat in the sun, near and yet far, eating donuts and drinking coffee. It could be worse.
Twenty-Seven
Back at the bus, the smell of pizza hit them as they went up the stairs.
“Pizza again?” Reid said, surveying the boxes balanced on knees and tables. Even though she’d had two and a half donuts, the cheesy-tomato aroma made Cady feel hungry.
“Help yourselves,” Gavin said. “We got plenty.”
Shelby was there, and she flashed Cady a grin. The rest of the regular crew was chowing down, but there was no sign of Kyle and the gruesome threesome.
As everyone ate, they talked about the next day’s flash mob. Kyle had been in charge of the planning, they told the girls. It was designed to be a celebration of nature. It would start at noon, when the sun was highest and would flood the street with sunshine. This, Kyle had told them, was symbolic of the way that nature shines in every part of life. The music would be from the summer movement of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and green helium balloons would be released at the end. Kyle had organized sponsorship, but it would be very in the background. The main thing, he’d said, was the celebration of nature’s bounty and diversity.
“Well, that all sounds good,” Cady said. She thought about the orchards at Santa Almendra, with their bountiful trees (the ones that were still standing, anyway). They were beautiful, and bountiful, although diversity didn’t come into it.
“Why is it happening in the middle of a street, though?” Shelby asked. “If it’s all about nature, shouldn’t it be somewhere natural in the sun?”
“It’s the contrast,” Jennifer said. “Like, it’s supposed to encourage people to think about nature, even though we have these urban lives.”
The Near & Far Series Page 44