In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  The soft strains of old 70s rock filled the quiet night. He didn’t recognize the song, but he knew it could only be coming from one window.

  Whatever happened next, he hoped she’d be able to forgive him.

  ***

  Lydia

  Ah, her desk.

  Just as she’d left it. Mostly.

  “Good morning, Miss Larkin,” Merrick greeted as he entered the office. He paused at her desk, a relieved smile on his lips.

  “Good morning, Mister Jones,” she responded professionally.

  His lips twitched and his eyes scanned her surreptitiously, probably checking for any missing limbs or new scars.

  “Any messages?” he asked.

  “None yet, sir, but the day is young.”

  “Indeed,” he murmured.

  Lydia sat in her chair as Merrick closed the door to his office. She flicked a piece of lint off the leg of her gray pantsuit.

  Strange to think it had only been a few days ago when she’d been under a star painted desert sky, the most beautiful man in the world by her side.

  She could do this. Have the normal life, with the job and the bills and the schedule. As long as every once in a while, she was allowed to run wild.

  Especially if while she was running, he was running beside her.

  She began humming Tom Petty’s “Into the Great Wide Open,” a smile on her face.

  The next couple of hours flew by as she checked reports and messages. As if putting in her time here wasn’t such a requirement. It was a choice she made. And as much as she thought she’d been at peace with it before, she realized she hadn’t been.

  But this was pretty darn close.

  “Hey,” Brenda greeted.

  Lydia glanced up from her computer screen with a wide smile. “Hey.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Lydia’s eyes darted to the clock in the corner of her screen. Huh. It was lunch time already. She paused, realizing that Remington hadn’t been in yet.

  “Starving,” she responded, pushing back from her desk. “Let me tell Merrick I’m leaving.”

  She knocked once on the door and stuck her head inside.

  “B-Rock and I are going to eat. You want anything?”

  Merrick looked up from his computer screen, a worried frown on his brown. He tried to smooth it, but it didn’t take. “No. Thank you. I have a late lunch meeting in an hour.”

  With Remington? She wanted to ask. But didn’t. Instead, she closed the door and joined her friend in the outer office.

  “I can always tell when you’ve been on an adventure,” Brenda spoke after the elevator doors closed. “You have this special glow. Most people would describe it as an after-sex glow. But I know better.”

  Lydia grinned. “You know what’s weird?” she asked. “My mom didn’t call. Not even once.”

  “That is weird,” Brenda agreed. “Have you talked to her since you got back?”

  “Nope.”

  “Huh. Maybe that’s the reason for your glow. Less stress, more sunshine.”

  “Maybe.” Lydia smiled, thinking about all the reasons she might be happier than normal. “You know I’m not a genius, right?” she asked her friend as they stepped into the lobby.

  Brenda frowned and slowed down, coming to a stop near the atrium.

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “Nowhere,” Lydia replied with a shrug, avoiding eye contact, choosing to look over the fragrant decoration soaring upwards through the middle of the building she’d helped sketch out when she was twenty.

  Children’s fantasies.

  “Lydia,” Brenda called softly, beckoning for her attention and an actual answer.

  Lydia took a deep breath and finally met her friend’s gaze. How did you express your thanks to your best friend for never treating you like you were a circus freak? When was the proper time to express that kind of gratitude? For loving her despite all the reasons not to.

  Brenda’s eyes glossed over and she arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to make me cry in front of all my colleagues, aren’t you?”

  “I love you,” Lydia said.

  “Can we just leave it at that?” Brenda asked. “I love you and you love me and then we stop talking, yeah?”

  Lydia smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

  ***

  Lydia

  “Still catching up?” Merrick asked, a perplexed arch in his eyebrows as he locked his office door.

  It wasn’t like her to be there that late. The building around them had emptied, lights shut off, the janitorial service making their rounds on the top floors.

  “No, I’m finished,” she answered, leaning back in her chair and letting her eyes drift to the empty couch in her outer office.

  Remington hadn’t shown up today.

  Like he’d said he would.

  She’d even called him.

  She’d never done that before.

  When he hadn’t answered, she hadn’t thought anything of it.

  At first.

  “It’s almost ten,” Merrick told her what she had already been thinking.

  Lydia pressed her lips together, trying to remember what it had felt like just a few months ago not to care where he was. Not let it be something that entered her head over and over.

  This.

  This was exactly what all those other girls felt like.

  “When he’s with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world,” Merrick said. “And when he’s not with you, you know he’s making someone else feel that way.”

  She closed her eyes and forced a smile. “That’s the danger in loving a wild thing.”

  Merrick didn’t say anything. Nothing trite and nothing insensitive. He knew it all anyway.

  “I think Austin sounds like a good idea,” she said. Standing up, she took a long look at Merrick. “Will that be all, Mister Jones?”

  His eyes, normally impassive gray glass, gave way to the understanding that comes with deep respect and acceptance of a person’s choices. “That will be all, Miss Larkin.”

  Chapter 20

  Homesick

  Remington

  “Motorcycle, huh?” Yvette asked, eyeing the Harley with her arms crossed.

  Remington ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yep.”

  “You just…decided to trade in your car… For this?”

  “I’ve had bikes in the past.” He shrugged. “I missed it.”

  She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes slightly. “Right. Of course.”

  Not to mention, it helped with his ease of under the radar travel the past couple of days. Up to Portland and back again. No one even noticed he’d been gone.

  Though—and this was something he would never admit out loud to anyone—it was a completely different ride with Lydia’s arms missing around his middle and without her heat at his back.

  “Everything okay otherwise?” Yvette asked as they fell into step on the walkway up to Kyle’s house.

  “Right as rain.”

  “Uh-huh. Because you throw weird idioms around like that all the time,” she replied sarcastically.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  Right as rain?

  What the hell did that even mean? Rain wasn’t right.

  Unless it was outside of a cave opening on a sunny day and a wild child within arm’s reach.

  He took a breath and shook free of the memory.

  Thinking about Lydia now wasn’t going to help either one of them. They needed some space.

  She needed some space.

  Which was why he’d dropped his phone in a glass of orange juice the morning he’d left Portland. He’d been staring at her missed call and he couldn’t risk calling her back.

  He wanted it too much.

  They reached the door just as Kyle opened it.

  “Come in! Come in!” Kyle called excitedly. “I’m so glad everyone is here. I made so much guacamole.”

  Remington chuckled and entered the
house.

  “Look who’s here, everyone! You can cancel the candlelight vigil and flyers! He’s finally returned home!”

  Remington was greeted with back slaps and hugs from some of his longest serving team members. Movie night at Kyle’s had been a weekly thing for years but Remington hadn’t been around for it for… a while. His schedule kept him out of town a lot, or busy with training and other ventures. He tried to make it a point to show up at least once a month. But he’d been so distracted by Lydia, he’d taken his friends for granted.

  He didn’t feel great about that.

  Another thing he still wasn’t settled with? How he’d left things with Yvette and Mimi. He’d come back and they’d behaved in a “business as usual” manner.

  He almost preferred a fight to the silent tension under all of their interactions.

  The rest of the evening progressed easily. Laughing, talking, eating, catching up.

  At one point, Remington sat against the wall in the back of the room and quietly observed his friends—his people. A beautiful family had developed among these free-range hearts.

  A family that didn’t need him as their patriarch, but still respected the position he held. Even if he no longer deserved it.

  “We fired Jackie.”

  Remington swiveled his head to look at Mimi who’d used her ninja skills to sneak up and sit down beside him.

  “Right after you left. She was saying…” Mimi rolled her eyes, her disgust obvious. “Well, she was lying about you. And it wasn’t okay.”

  He waited. Not because he wanted to, he didn’t. He wanted to ask a dozen questions, remind her of the things she and Yvette had said, the things they had implied and outright stated.

  But he took a moment.

  And gave it to her.

  Mimi turned round, sorrowful eyes his direction. Long black lashes shimmered with the hint of tears. “I’m sorry, Rem. We should have trusted you.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I—I got jealous, I think.”

  He smiled gently at her. “Jealous of what, Meems?”

  “It’s tough, you know.” She took a breath and blew it out in an embarrassed huff. “I came from an industry where women weren’t teammates. We were competitors, in the ugliest ways possible. And you were suddenly spending all this time with a new person—” She pressed a hand to her chest with wide eyes. “I’m not trying to say this was your fault. It wasn’t. It’s my issue. I just… I fell back into a bad mindset.” Her head fell back against the wall behind them and she swallowed. “I’m so embarrassed by my behavior,” she whispered.

  Remington folded his hands in his lap and nodded.

  “What if I just forgive you?”

  She glared at him sideways. “You weren’t the only one I was horrible to.”

  She meant Lydia.

  “That does make things difficult,” he blurted without thinking.

  Mimi sat up straight, her frown deepening. “Why?”

  Remington pressed his lips together and shook his head once.

  Mimi’s mouth grew small with agitation. “What did you do?”

  “Me? Why do you think I did something?”

  “What’s going on?” Yvette joined them, taking a seat on Remington’s other side.

  Mimi leaned forward and around him. “Lydia’s out of the picture.”

  “What? Already?”

  Remington sighed with exasperation. “Guys, really. This isn’t—”

  “Right.” Mimi nodded and sat back again. “Not our business.”

  See? This was nice. Having his friends back. His business partners. Just hanging out, being awesome, not being weird about things—

  “But you said she was your best friend,” Yvette pointed out.

  “And you never say that,” Mimi added.

  Remington pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “And we saw how you looked at her.” Yvette’s voice dropped to a lower volume.

  “None of that matters, guys.” He sighed loudly. “It’s all… just… it’s not anything you need to be worried about.”

  He kept his eyes closed as he waited for this awkward moment to pass. How was he supposed to explain to them what he was having difficulty understanding?

  Things with Lydia were… complicated.

  “Remington… You should know a residential facility for trauma and addiction in Oregon called for finance approval a couple days ago.”

  Remington opened his eyes.

  ***

  Harley Davidson made a beautiful product.

  But they couldn’t make a bike fast enough to outrun Remington’s thoughts.

  And really, it wasn’t the thinking he was struggling with.

  It was the feeling.

  Singular.

  One.

  It was right at his back. Heavy and urgent. Pressing and permanent.

  And for some reason, he thought speeding down the road into the pitch-black night would help him escape. Even though the further he got away from the city, the brighter the stars became, and the deep longing of homesickness filled his gut.

  When had that happened?

  When had a person—her face, her laugh, her touch—become home to him?

  Maybe it was that question that had him aiming the bike towards the cabin.

  The cabin.

  The one he was supposed to sell but just hadn’t been able to make the call that would get the ball rolling.

  His liberal use of the throttle brought him to the drive sooner than it should have another person.

  He flicked the lights on in the cabin, glancing around at the tidy, yet empty home.

  Did he really believe at one time this would be the answer? This small space would somehow bring him clarity and happiness and domesticity?

  He ran both hands through his hair as he paced across the small living room.

  The few days he’d spent in Oregon had been emotionally exhausting.

  It was so much easier to help people he didn’t love.

  There was a disconnect to his assistance. He cared, but not so much that his psyche was ever put at risk. He could walk away, knowing he’d done his best and rationally understand that a person doesn’t ultimately change unless they want to.

  His investment was calculated.

  Limited.

  Until now.

  Did he hold clients at arm’s length to protect them? Or to protect himself?

  Because this feeling sucked.

  He let loose with a humorless laugh and stuck his hands to his hips.

  “Remember when addiction was the biggest thing you had to worry about?” he asked himself out loud. And then he immediately felt like shit.

  He wasn’t doing enough.

  He wasn’t doing enough and he wasn’t doing it right.

  The cabin answered him with silence. Lonely, vacant, delayed silence.

  A life stuck in between. Left for later until Remington decided what to do with it.

  He sucked in a startled breath as it became very clear what he needed to do next.

  He needed to speak to Cressida.

  Chapter 21

  Women Like Her

  Remington

  He set down that last box in the living room and wiped his forehead using the sleeve of his arm. “That’s it, I think.”

  “Thank you. Again.”

  Cressida stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a hand on her swollen belly. She looked great pregnant. Not a surprise. She’d always been a beauty, nothing would be able to change that.

  “Not a problem, hun.” He stuck his hands to his hips and looked around at the changes she’d already made to the place.

  The cabin he had bought with her in mind, was finally fulfilling its destiny.

  He sniffed a laugh to himself. Destiny was not something he would have ever considered before.

  “I’ve always liked that one.” He nodded to a painting that she had done when they had been together.

  She smiled, remembering. “Oh, yeah.”


  “And I can’t believe this thing is still around,” he joked, toeing the rug she’d laid down in front of the fireplace. It was the ugliest rug he’d ever seen. But it was the first thing they’d bought “together” when he’d moved into her place.

  “I keep telling myself to throw it away…”

  “But you hate to waste a good rug,” he finished.

  “It really brings the room together,” she agreed.

  Their eyes connected and the weight he used to feel with the memory of her wasn’t there anymore. All that remained was the good stuff. The laughter, the jokes, the love.

  Like Lydia had said in Austin, “only good memories here.”

  Cressida blinked and a tear ran down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’d like to blame the hormones for my emotions, but…” she sniffed and nodded. “Here you are. I just never thought we’d have this. You know?”

  Remington crossed the room and gently grasped her shoulders. “I know. I know exactly what you mean.”

  He folded her into his arms and held her tight.

  They stood together for several minutes. Letting the warmth and time heal them both just a little bit more.

  “I have to go away for a few days this week,” he said into her hair at the top of her head. Cressida had always been tiny. He used to love how she tucked right below his chin. “Will you be okay here until I get back?”

  She pulled back but kept her arms around his waist. “Yeah. I’m good now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  Truth rang like a victory bell in her words. He could see it in her turquoise eyes. Settled, content, happy. He’d done what he’d set out to do all those years ago.

  Except he’d managed to do it right this time.

  Comfortable bravery filled his chest. He smiled down at the first big love of his life. “I’m gonna love you forever.”

  “I know,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes again. “Thank you.” When he frowned at her words, she looked to the ceiling to compose herself. “Thank you for loving me the way you do. Maybe it doesn’t look like other people’s love, but it’s yours. And I know how special it is.”