Come Fly With Me

by Addison Fox

  As she opened the sports page, her boredom fled as she caught up on the expectations for the weekend’s NFL play-offs. After a quick scan of the injury report, she made up her mind on how she was betting Chris for each of the games.

  She’d beat his ass soundly for the last two weeks and had no intention of losing her mojo. Besides, he had no idea how to bet against the point spread, which she knew she should feel guilty about, but well…she didn’t.

  Satisfied with her picks, she flipped the page.

  And lost her breath as Roman Forsyth stared back at her from a photo that dominated the top half of the page. Dark hair plastered itself to his head and a nasty red cut lined the corner of his eye.

  He looked like an avenging warrior, home from battle and celebrating his victory.

  She stared at the photo for a long time, as heat and need warred with the voice of common sense that was never quite able to break through the memories.

  Why couldn’t she get past this? Past him?

  And why did looking at his picture only ignite the need that curled through her body like a flash fire at the knowledge he’d be in Indigo soon?

  They’d been broken up a long time and still, these feelings for him had lingered far longer than was considered normal or healthy or even remotely sane. But try as she might, no one she dated ever quite measured up to her high school boyfriend.

  And oh, how she’d tried.

  She’d gone after smart guys, dumb guys, guys who wouldn’t know a sports term if a dictionary was handed to them. She’d gone out of town and she’d tried online. Hell, a year ago she’d even agreed to a blind date on a weekend trip to Anchorage.

  Nothing worked.

  Nothing and no one had ever allowed her to give up the ghost.

  She’d even considered a psychiatrist—would have gone if the cost simply hadn’t been too exorbitant on top of the bills from her mother—so she’d bought Father Tom coffee a few times and chewed his ear off.

  The priest had been helpful—and the one person in town she could trust not to repeat anything that came out of her mouth—but even after a year of cappuccinos she hadn’t gotten any closer to healed.

  Slamming the paper closed and tossing it in the trash can, she reached for the Sudoku book, resigned to another evening of eye strain, when the phone rang.

  “Indigo Blue, how can I help you?”

  The line crackled briefly before a lilting voice flowed through the end of the phone. “Is Avery Marks there?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  A nervous laugh echoed briefly in her ear before the voice spoke again. “This is Lena O’Mara. From Ireland. I wonder if you might have a moment to talk.”

  Mick smiled as Dana and Will’s two-year-old lifted his arms for a hug.

  “You look like the Michelin Man, buddy.” Mick lifted the well-insulated boy onto his lap and gave him a big hug. “Don’t forget what I told you.”

  “Don’t hit girls, especially not my sister,” Bryce grumbled.

  “Exactly. And remember. You’re going to like those girls someday.”

  He gave the small body one more hug before passing him across the table to Will.

  Grier gave Betsy one more squeeze—the baby was also bundled up like a burrito—and then Dana, Will and their brood were off.

  Mick dropped into his seat with a sigh. “Wow. I know my mom took on a lot, but I had no idea three kids were that much work. How’d you do that thing with the baby?”

  “What thing with the baby?” Grier piled up some of their discarded plates into the center of the table.

  “She was bound and determined to get your dessert and you held her back every time. The kid was like an octopus.”

  She gave him a small triumphant smile. “I was voted the best babysitter in our building, three years running.”

  “Wow.” He leaned over and wrapped an arm around her neck. “You’re a world champion.”

  “My personal record is four children at one time. A set of twins, their younger brother and an infant.”

  “How’d you do?” He leaned back to get a better look at her face and didn’t miss the pride that shone in her eyes.

  “All in bed by seven. And the baby slept through the night.”

  “Nice going.”

  “Of course, those same children ruined it the following weekend by letting the dog out of the back bedroom. A dog, I might add, who was in heat and who ripped off her doggie diaper within about two minutes of the parents’ being gone. The twins subsequently painted each other with cake frosting, the toddler ate a crayon and the infant projectile vomited three times.”

  “And you lived to tell the tale.”

  She reached for her glass of wine. “And never got invited back to babysit, either.”

  The smile that suffused her face and lit up her gaze grew brighter, if that was possible. “You were good with him. Kevin.”

  “Our future pilot.”

  “He worships you.”

  “He just needs a role model. He’s had a few tough breaks—his dad passed away about a year ago—but I think he’s back on track. I helped his mother get a deal on his flying lessons to cut the cost a bit. He also works out at the airstrip, which adds to his ability to defray the costs of his lessons.”

  “No wonder he worships you.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss against his lips. “I think you’re pretty groovy, Mr. O’Shaughnessy.”

  He smiled against her mouth. “I have a way you can prove it to me.”

  Grier sat back, her mouth dropped in a mock O of surprise. “Are you suggesting I relive my young, horny and misguided days?”

  “You read my mind.”

  “And here I thought I was going to go to bed lonely tonight, seeing as how you ordered the potpie and all.”

  Mick shot a glance toward the kitchen where Big John kept up a steady stream of conversation with the customers while he worked the grill. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m afraid of Big John.”

  Her answering smile shot heat straight to his groin and Mick reached for his wallet, intent on settling the bill so they could get out of there.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  The voice registered before he made the connection and Mick looked over to see a man he recognized but couldn’t quite place.

  “David Barnes. I’m a friend of Ken Cloud’s.”

  Mick stood and extended his hand. “Of course, Dr. Barnes. Good to see you again.” He made a quick introduction to Grier before sitting back down.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. I can see you’ve finished your dinner, but I wanted to share my condolences. Ken told me about your actions last month. When you picked up those researchers off Denali. It was quite heroic.”

  Ice coalesced in his veins as Mick kept a broad smile on his face. If it were up to him, he’d never discuss that night again. And he certainly didn’t want to discuss it with Grier around.

  Before he could stop them, images of that night played through his mind. The crackle of static in his headphones as he searched for the researchers who’d radioed in for help. The pools of blood that had congealed on the ice and snow, leading him straight to the two men who fought to save their friend’s life.

  The experience had been so eerily reminiscent of his mother’s death that he still saw the blood when he closed his eyes. And he’d had a few long, sleepless nights as he worked through the memories again.

  “Those are kind words, Dr. Barnes. But I did what had to be done.”

  “At great personal expense to yourself.”

  “Well, unfortunately, one of those researchers paid a far higher price.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The short ride to the hotel was eerily quiet. Grier kept glancing at Mick, but his gaze never veered from the road.

  Nor did his grip relax on the steering wheel.

  The thoughts she’d had earlier on the plane ride up, when Mick had flown her over Denali, came back in full force. How silly of her to assume be
cause he still loved the mountain, he didn’t bear its scars.

  Bright lights welcomed them to their hotel as Mick turned into the parking lot. He pulled up under the porte cochere and popped the trunk as a porter ran up to secure their bags. As was his custom, Mick came around to open her door and help her down.

  She tried to catch his gaze—and get some sense of how he was doing—but he kept his eyes averted as he helped her from the car, pointing out various spots to avoid. He kept her hand in his as they walked into the hotel, but she felt the distance and knew his thoughts were somewhere else.

  Check-in was quick—the hotel staff knew Mick well and had already prepared for their arrival. But it was the sight of two keys sitting on the counter that blasted a shot of cold through her, numbing her right down to her toes.

  The quiet ride up the elevator with the porter grew heavy with unspoken words as they took the short trip to their rooms. Although Mick needed her compassion, she could barely hold back the rising fury that mixed with disappointment like thick, wet cement.

  Nor did she make much effort to hide her disappointment.

  The moment the porter crossed the threshold of her doorway, a large tip in his hands, she closed the door and crossed to the bed.

  How had the evening gone so wrong, so fast?

  She’d barely kicked off her boots when the light knock on the adjoining doorway between her room and his echoed moments later.

  Grier crossed to the door. “What do you want?”

  “Grier, please open the door.”

  Unwilling to stand on the other side and argue with him, she unlocked the heavy bolt and threw open the door.

  And was cut down at the knees by the raw, abject misery that covered his face in harsh, craggy lines.

  “Two rooms?”

  “I was trying to be respectful. I didn’t agree to take you on this trip just to sleep with you and I’d already booked the rooms before last night.”

  “I know you didn’t take me on this trip to get into my pants. I also know you should have talked to me about it. All you said was you’d taken care of accommodations.”

  “I was trying to give you space.”

  “Fuck space. I want you, Mick.” She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt in her hands. The heavy cotton was soft to the touch, but it was the heat that pulsed underneath that set her senses on fire.

  Mick wrapped his arms around her and Grier found her hands flattened against his chest, her upper body cocooned by his. His mouth devoured hers as he walked her slowly backward into the room and in the direction of the bed. Her body boiled over to flashpoint at the expert strokes of his tongue, the excitement that frayed her nerve endings leaping to life.

  Her breasts ached for his touch and every movement—every step—had her jeans brushing against the swollen flesh at the apex of her thighs. She wanted to be mindless underneath this man, a slave to the passion that lived and breathed between them.

  Even if he had pissed her off with their accommodations and the silent treatment in the car.

  Need pulsed off him in hot waves, but it was the pain layered underneath that had her pulling back and had the memories of their car ride from the restaurant rising back up to the forefront of her mind.

  “We’re not doing this again until you talk to me.”

  “You’re the one grabbing my shirt.” He ran a trail of hot kisses along the column of her neck and she fought to remember her point as wickedly pleasurable sensations tripped gleefully along her spine in a searing rush.

  “Mick,” she said with a sigh. “Come on. Talk to me.”

  He pulled back and dropped his arms. “What do you want me to tell you, Grier?”

  “I want you to tell me what happened that night.”

  “A guy died because he wasn’t careful. I had to help his buddies get him back to town. A sad story, but that’s it. That’s all there is to it.”

  She knew the experience was anything but “it,” but decided to shift her tact. “We had sex once so you could assuage the pain. We’re not doing it again.”

  “For the record”—he leaned in, his breath ragged—“you came to me that night.”

  “And I came willingly. But it’s clearly still there, causing you pain. I want you to tell me about it.”

  He flung out a hand. “Like you tell me things? Like you give me a chance?”

  The barb hit its mark, but he didn’t allow her a reply.

  “You’ve made it more than clear that we’re separate people with separate lives. Why the hell do you want me to take something so dirty and ugly and bring it in here? I don’t have that much fucking time with you and I’m not spoiling it.”

  “I’m asking you to tell me about it only so it’s not between us. It’s clear Dr. Barnes upset you at dinner. I want you to get it out.”

  “I was going to. With hot, mindless sex.”

  Grier shook her head as confusion mingled with unbridled need. She wanted him so badly, she could barely stand. Her skin felt stretched too tight, her body sensitive to every movement.

  The angry tension that corded his neck relaxed and she saw the change immediately. She saw how the blue of his eyes morphed from glittering anger to a desperate need for understanding. “Grier. Please don’t ask me to go back there. Ask me to leave, but please don’t bring that between us.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was the look on his face or the husky tones of his voice that pleaded with her to understand, but she went willingly back into his arms.

  Grier lay in the lazy circle of Mick’s arms. He had one leg thrown over hers and his head was buried in the crook of her neck. She could tell he wasn’t asleep, but his breath had grown even as they both returned from the edge of oblivion.

  She couldn’t stop touching him—couldn’t stop herself from running her hands over the long length of his biceps or trailing a finger down the hard planes of his chest.

  Why had she been running from this?

  And even as she asked herself the question, the answer quickly poked its way into the soft, warm union of their bodies.

  She was exposed to him. Emotionally naked in a way even bare skin couldn’t convey.

  Although she resisted allowing Jason inside her private moment with Mick, thoughts of her ex-fiancé found their way into her mind. He’d hurt her—doing damage she hadn’t even realized he’d been capable of.

  It wasn’t the cheating, although that was the outward sign and hurtful in its own right.

  It was the sense that she wasn’t enough.

  That she didn’t deserve a true commitment from another person. She’d lived a life with parental abandonment and she’d never thought she’d find it in the man she was going to marry, too. She wasn’t naive. She knew life was hard and marriage had its ups and downs. But she’d gone into her engagement willing to work through the ups and downs.

  Willing to give it her all.

  To be found less than worthy of that had cut deep. And it had opened a wound that dated back to childhood.

  Mick shifted, pulling her closer. As his heart beat against hers, she felt that wound closing. And she knew it didn’t have the power to hurt her any longer.

  Because no matter what came next for the two of them, Mick made her feel that she was more than enough.

  The real question was, could she give him the same?

  Mick heard the steady hum of his alarm and buried more deeply into Grier’s warm and deliciously naked body. He didn’t want to move, let alone get into a cold car and drive to the cold airstrip, only to fly to one of the coldest places on Earth.

  Serves you right for living in Alaska, his conscience taunted as the shrill ping of his cell phone alarm kept ringing.

  “Mick,” her sleepy voice whispered against him. “It’s your alarm.”

  “I know,” he groaned into her neck.

  “Turn it off.”

  He released her and reached for the offending item, slapping down on the OFF button. With quick moves, he pinned her
right back into the same place on the bed as his sleepy thoughts woke up and took a new direction.

  He had an armful of warm, naked woman underneath him and the day was a-wasting.

  With a grin against her neck, he shifted and ran a hand over the sweet curve of her breast and down her stomach before settling at the soft curls that framed the apex of her thighs.

  “Mick!” Her sleepy voice hit a high-pitched squeak as his fingers probed through the curls and into the tight sheath of her body. Hot warmth flooded his palm as her thighs fell open to allow him better access.

  “You were saying?”

  Her gray eyes were fast losing the haze of sleep as passion moved in to electrify their depths, but she could only utter a heavy moan. Invigorated, he kept up a relentless pace, determined to drag a response from her.

  He didn’t have to wait long. The telltale signs of her arousal let him know she was close and as her hands gripped his arms, he felt her body react in kind, gripping his fingers as pleasure erupted from the deepest part of her.

  Satisfaction that bordered on primeval rose up in his chest. Unwilling to waste such a warm wake-up call, he shifted and buried himself to the hilt as her thighs wrapped around him. Her already-sensitized body sheathed his in welcome and he nearly went cross-eyed as Grier turned the tables on him, pushing him to his back so she could rise up above him.

  She set the pace now, forcing him at the same breakneck speed that he’d initiated. He felt her rise up, again and again, his avenging angel of pleasure.

  Hot, wet heat surrounded him, drugged him and made him mindless to the insatiable needs of his body. It captured him so that the seducer became the seduced.

  And it was the triumphant smile of the seducer that filled his vision when he gave up the fight and allowed her to take him over.

  “You can just get that smug expression off your face, Mick O’Shaughnessy.” Grier wagged a finger at him as she buckled herself in. “We’re an hour late because of your little wake-up call.”

  “I didn’t see you protesting.”