In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “And as I got older, I realized whatever burned inside dad, also burned in me. I hate staying still for too long.” She cracked a half-smile. “I joke with Brenda about how my soul needs to reseed.” She narrowed an eye at Remington. “Have I told you about how I see people as plants?” He shook his head once. “Merrick is the California wild lilac, and Brenda is sweet alyssum. But I’ve never been a flower. I see myself as grass, pollinated by the wind blowing through. Just like him.” She nodded to the photo.

  Remington reached for her, his fingers touching the bare skin of her arm and running down to her hand where he hooked the palm.

  “Dance with me,” he said.

  “Are you asking or telling?” Her lips tugged up and to the left.

  “Neither,” he replied, guiding her hand to his shoulder. His left hand went to her waist and then to the small of her back as he brought her against his body. His right hand cradled her neck and jaw, the thumb brushing against her cheek.

  She sucked in a soft breath that puffed lightly against his ear as he brought his face next to hers. Both of her hands rested on his biceps.

  “There’s no music, Rem,” she said softly, her lips brushing his cheek as she spoke.

  “Sing me a song. One you sang here before.”

  He heard her swallow, felt her body begin to sway with the rhythm in her head, and sank into her calm energy.

  Her voice soft on his neck, clear and sweet as she sang “You Can Close Your Eyes” by James Taylor.

  And he did close his eyes. Every word sinking into his skin, blood, and guts.

  They swayed together, her voice leaving him with hope and goodbyes and all the things he was both afraid of and wanted more of.

  He could picture both in that moment. The child singing this song on a stage with her dad, and the woman he held in his arms.

  And all he wanted was to be closer to it.

  To the light and the love and the words.

  “What am I?” he asked. “Of all the flowers in your world, which one am I?”

  One of her hands slid from his bicep to his neck and then the back of his head, where her fingers threaded through his hair and tightened.

  “Remington…” she sighed against his cheek, soft and sweet. “You’re not.”

  His hands flexed against her and she held on tighter.

  “You’re a star, baby,” she whispered. “Bright, burning, and beautiful.”

  She hummed against his throat and repeated the chorus one more time.

  Remington closed his eyes. And let her love him.

  Because he couldn’t stop her anymore.

  Chapter 17

  Soul to Soul

  Lydia

  All good memories here, she repeated in her mind as her hair whipped out behind her into the night.

  Her laughter slowed down her flight and strong arms caught around her middle. Remington lifted her into the air and spun her around. Austin’s bright lights reflected off the nearby water of Lady Bird Lake, adding to the rainbow that was their friendship.

  He nuzzled her hair out of the way as he rested his chin in the space between her neck and shoulder.

  “Do think we’ll live forever?” he asked.

  “I know I plan to,” she answered with arrogant confidence.

  His chuckle rumbled through him and into her. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  “Nope,” she shook her head. “I’m not falling for that trick.”

  “What trick?” he asked, his voice vibrating with humor.

  “The growing up trick. I won’t fall for it. I don’t make plans, otherwise plans make me.” She frowned. That sentence made way more sense in her head.

  Remington must’ve agreed because he was laughing again. His laugh shook and rumbled through them both and she pressed herself backwards against him, trying to soak all of it up.

  He spun her around in his arms and she draped her wrists over his shoulders, loving the calm, happy expression on his face. So deep, it eased the lines around his eyes and dove down into his soul like a solid thing, splashing into the amber.

  He cupped either side of her face, tilting her head back. One thumb brushed the apple of her cheek, the other tugged gently on her lower lip. Instinctively, Lydia closed her eyes and held her breath.

  The moment, the man, the magic—all met in one soft, world altering collision.

  His full lips were warmer than she expected, asking, giving, exploring. No hesitation, no stumble, no tremble. Solid, firm, fixed. His tongue swept inside for a taste like he’d done it a hundred times.

  It was a first kiss.

  It was a last kiss.

  It was all the kisses she’d ever had…and all the kisses she’d never had.

  ***

  Remington

  Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment before she opened those gorgeous eyes and stared up at him. With such trust and so little expectation it made something in his chest burn.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her.

  And now that he had, he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to not do it again.

  He stared down at the beautiful face he held in his hands, realizing he held way more than that, and that voice he couldn’t identify resonated throughout his entire body.

  Mine.

  Her lips stretched into a smile so wide it pushed against his palms and he smiled back.

  “We should do that again,” she said in an excited whisper. The second she did, her eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe she’d said it out loud.

  He found himself laughing again, even as he leaned in to give her what she wanted.

  She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and this kiss was so much more than the first. It still had everything the first one did, but somehow, the sensations and feelings involved were fuller.

  And important.

  Whatever was happening between the two of them…

  “You know what I could go for right about now?” she said against his lips, her voice sultry and deep. Those hazel eyes flicked up to his. At this proximity, they looked like a forest at sunset. Wild, free, and warm.

  “What can I get for you, Lydia?” he asked, knowing he was going to say yes, no matter what it was. She was dangerous like that.

  “I could really use a cup of coffee.” She pulled down on the back of his neck and planted an extra kiss on his smiling mouth.

  ***

  Remington

  She snorted and covered her smile with the back of her hand.

  Later, when he looked back at this moment, he wouldn’t be able to remember what he’d said to make her laugh. But never would he be able to forget how her hair tumbled in soft waves over her shoulder as she sat cross-legged in the center of the bed serenaded by Jimi Hendrix from an oldies station on the radio. And her half-drunk smile was forever burned in his memory.

  Remington paused at the edge of bed, just taking her in. Every detail, every curve, every flicker of light in her eyes.

  He was lost.

  He’d never been lost before.

  Not with Cressida, not with anyone.

  Though he’d never, ever in his life met anyone like Lydia Larkin.

  “You drive me wild,” he confessed roughly.

  Her lazy smile curved a little more on the ends but otherwise, she didn’t respond.

  “Are you tired?” he asked.

  She shook her head just once.

  They’d been playing Truth or Dare since their kiss in the city lights near Lady Bird Lake. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when the game started, but it really couldn’t have turned out any other way.

  The truths she’d procured from him included his worst porn story, his best porn story, how many times he’d been arrested, and that one time he was sort of married but not really.

  So far, she had dared him to hustle a pool game, do a handstand in the hotel lobby and walk that way all the way to the elevator, and order her pizza and tequila.

  It hadn’t been his f
avorite game before this night, but it was now.

  The truths he’d gotten from her were just as amazing as he’d hoped. He found out she was an only child, why she left Paris, she hadn’t ever been to New Zealand but it was on her list, and that she didn’t have any tattoos… yet.

  He’d also successfully dared her to sing impassioned and terrible karaoke, go an entire hour speaking only French, and let him pick a tattoo for her and get it done.

  The last one surprised him a little. She hadn’t even hesitated.

  So now Lydia Larkin had a tattoo of a hummingbird on her shoulder.

  “It’s your turn,” she said, patting the bed beside her.

  “Truth or dare?” he asked, sitting down on the bed with his back to the headboard.

  “Truth,” she declared, flopping onto her back, her head landing beside his thigh. She grinned up at him.

  “Okay.” Remington thought of all the things he still didn’t know about her and decided to go for the heavy one. “Why did you and Merrick break up?”

  She scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Ugh. That’s not a fun one.”

  His fingers found her hair and teased the strands he could reach. “Have to answer it. I told you about the hairy ass.”

  She giggled and nodded. “All right, that’s fair.” Her eyes tracked to the ceiling and a somber expression clouded her face. “You already know that my mom—and the rest of the family—worry that I’m too much like dad. And that without proper supervision, I’ll end my life.” She sighed, a deep sigh. Weighty and full of disappointment. “And she got to Merrick. Planted ideas and doubt in his mind. He began… reporting my whereabouts to her, keeping track of me, lying about what he was doing, and I caught him.” She swallowed and folded her hands over her stomach. “How do you stay with someone who doesn’t have your back, you know?”

  Echoes of Merrick’s warning weeks back rang in his head.

  No matter what happens, always trust her.

  “I’m kind of surprised Merrick would do that,” he said with a frown. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I do. Completely. He just seems smarter than that.”

  Lydia closed her eyes and a smile ghosted on her lips. “You underestimate how convincing Mom can be.”

  Remington couldn’t handle the pain that sliced through him with her comment. In his line of work, he’d coached and counseled more people than he could count who were broken and severed on the inside. People with hang-ups and insecurities who needed qualified therapy. It happened so often he’d put together a team to help these people find the right professionals to assist them in living their best lives possible.

  “I meet a lot of people who have issues, Lydia,” he said quietly, controlling the anger in his voice. “You’re by far, one of the most well-adjusted and stable people I’ve ever met.” He took a breath in through is nose in an effort to keep his heartrate low. “Merrick is a fucking idiot.”

  “I think the words I used at the time were moronic fuckwit.” She shrugged and tossed him a look with a half-smile. “You know, I wanted to speak his language so he’d understand me.”

  He knew what she was trying to do by adding levity to the situation. But it didn’t permeate his cloud of angry disbelief.

  “Then why do you work for him?” Remington asked, pointing out all the flaws in her logic.

  She rolled over onto her stomach and rested on her elbows. “Are you mad?”

  “Yeah, I’m mad,” he said with an ugly lip twist. “You work for—and are vital to his entire operation, I’ll point out—a guy you not only used to date but who also treated you like an incompetent child.”

  Lydia tilted her head slightly. “But Rem, it was only a few months ago that you treated me the same.”

  “I didn’t know you,” he bit back quickly.

  “Okay, true.” She gave him that. “But Merrick said he was sorry. He already knows there’s no chance for a future between us. How else would you have me punish him?”

  “Are you still in love with him?” Remington asked suddenly.

  “I will always care for him,” she answered quietly. “But we ended before I came to work at the Institute. We’ve been friends longer than…” She searched for the words. “Longer than we mutually loved one another.”

  Mutually loved.

  He noticed how she carefully avoided saying they were “in love.”

  “Was he your unicorn?”

  “No. He was wonderful, but it would always have ended anyway.” She lifted a sheepish eyebrow. “You know that.”

  He did know that.

  Of all the people he’d encountered in his life, and it had been a lot, he’d finally met one that he got. And got him. Forever was hard to promise.

  And now here they were, on a collision course. Hurtling objects in space, aimed right at one another. Who would flinch first?

  “Truth or dare?” she asked, crawling up the bed toward him.

  “Truth.”

  “Was Cressida your unicorn?” She laid down again with a pillow tucked under her head and an arm thrown over one of his thighs.

  “Maybe,” he answered honestly. “It’s hard to say now. I left because I was positive she wasn’t. I knew I wasn’t good for her back then. Maybe I would be now.” He sniffed a laugh as he absently stroked Lydia’s hair away from her face. “Or maybe, she wouldn’t be good enough for me now.”

  “There’s that charming arrogance. I wondered where you’d been hiding it.”

  He grinned even as he decided to just tell her all of it. “Cressida was the closest I’ve ever come to having a conventional relationship. And the only reason for that was because she wanted it and I loved so much I wanted to give her everything.”

  “What happened?” Lydia blinked up at him.

  “Well,” Remington clucked his tongue. “I wanted to give her everything. But—and I don’t know if you have realized this yet—I’m also incredibly selfish. And I also wanted to have sex with other people.”

  “But, you said—”

  “No, I never cheated.” He rested a hand on Lydia’s head. “But I saw it as an inevitability. That eventually I would want to stray and I didn’t want to do that to her. We talked about it, argued about it, went to counseling for it.”

  He cleared his throat and looked to the ceiling. Sometimes it felt like it was someone else’s life. He’d learned so much about himself and about people and relationships since then. And sometimes, the pain was so raw, it felt like it was a few hours ago.

  “Addiction sucks,” he muttered.

  Lydia squeezed his thigh, reminding him of her presence. He inhaled a deep breath.

  “I think it was what made going into porn such an easy choice. I was a sex addict and I ruined the only relationship that really had a shot because of it. So why not just embrace all of it, you know?”

  “I wondered if the porn came after Cressida,” Lydia said softly.

  “It’s not who I am,” he declared suddenly, looking down at her. “My choices brought me here, but they’re not me.”

  “I know.” She squeezed his thigh again. “Remington, I know that better than anyone. I see you.”

  He smiled and adjusted in the bed so they were face to face, folding an arm under his head. Yeah, he’d asked and paid for two separate rooms. But truthfully, he had never intended to use the other one. If she wanted it, it was there.

  But he wanted to be near her.

  “I’ve never talked to someone like this before,” he confessed quietly. “Not how I talk to you.”

  “How do you talk to me?” she whispered back.

  He licked his lips as he tried to find the answer to her question.

  “Soul to soul.”

  She closed her eyes as a meaningful smile curved her lips. For a moment, he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then her voice joined Stevie Nicks as she sang out the last few lines of “Landside.”

  And Remington knew then what it was he kept seeing in her eyes.

  A reflec
tion of his own heart.

  ***

  Remington

  He opened one eye and blinked against the sun streaming through the curtains. Flat on his stomach with his arms hugging the pillow under his head, he couldn’t roll over. Frowning, he tensed against the weight on his back.

  “Stop trying to move,” Lydia directed behind and above him.

  “Are you—are you sitting on me?” he asked, trying to crane his head around to look behind him.

  He caught a glimpse of bare legs straddling his waist and Lydia flashed him a mischievous smile.

  “I wanted to see your Valkyrie tattoo.” Her hands ran over the large piece covering most if his back, traveling down his spine and back again.

  “And?” he asked, resting his head back in the pillow, the unmistakable odor of Sharpie hitting his nostrils.

  “And add some things.”

  He couldn’t help it, he laughed. Although, if anyone else would have tried the same thing, he probably would have reacted badly.

  But damn it, normality didn’t apply to Lydia.

  “Stop moving. You’re messing me up.” She pressed down on his shoulder with one hand while the other draw lines he couldn’t see on his skin.

  He adjusted the pillow under his head so he could be more comfortable. “I was thinking…”

  “Mmhm?”

  “What if I trade the car in for a bike today?”

  “What kind of bike?” she asked, concentrating on her drawing.

  “Maybe a Harley. I’ve never had a Harley before.”

  They were both traveling light. Their stuff could easily be stored in saddlebags.

  “I’ve never been on a motorcycle,” she said.

  “I guess that settles it,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t let you spend your whole life wishing. I have to fix that.”

  She “hmmd” a happy hum and he felt it in what he suspected was his heart.

  “And then what?” she asked, her hair tickled the skin of his back as she leaned over him.

  “And we’ll go for a ride… what are you drawing on me?”