Come Fly With Me

by Addison Fox

  “Patty was laughing with the film’s director, and they were drinking some champagne they’d managed to dig up on a trip to Fairbanks and that they’d saved for the occasion. The director was pretty far into the bottle when Wendy arrived, and Patty just kept waving this full glass that never went down. Wendy said it was funny at first, their laughing and celebrating that the movie had come out and all.”

  Brett stopped and once again, Grier could see how discomfort stamped itself across his kind face. “It really is all right. You can’t hurt my feelings.”

  He wiped his brow and nodded. “I never have liked speaking ill of others. Gossip’s an unfair business as it doesn’t give a person a chance to defend himself.”

  “I’ll tell you the truth. My mother hasn’t been all that supportive of my trips up here and she hasn’t gone out of her way to help me with learning about my father. Because of that, as far as I’m concerned, she’s abdicated her right to have a say in it.”

  “That’s fair.” Brett laid down his sandwich and wiped his hands on a napkin. “So Wendy said she had a few minutes with your mom and before she knew it, Patty was crying. Big huge tears, the sort you get when you can’t even catch your breath. And she tells my Wendy she’s pregnant and that she doesn’t know what to do. That she can’t live up here and what would people think. This was supposed to be a fling—a fun thing after college—and here she was pregnant with a pipeline worker’s baby.”

  Even if Brett felt it was gossip, Grier knew otherwise. She’d just learned the truth her mother had refused to share.

  Not only had she been unwanted from the first, but Patrice Thompson had thought Jonas Winston beneath her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mick had glanced intermittently at Grier since they’d left Barrow, but the sight never changed. She hadn’t looked away from the window once since they’d taken off.

  “We don’t have to stay in Fairbanks tonight. I can pick up our stuff and take you back to Indigo.”

  “There’s no need to cut the trip short.”

  “Grier—” He broke off, at a loss for words. She’d kept up a bright smile for Brett and a steady stream of questions for the duration of their stay, but he knew better.

  She was devastated.

  And he had no idea how to help her.

  “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. It’s been a long day and there’s no reason to head home tonight.”

  “Do you want to call Sloan or Avery? I can patch them in from here if you want to talk.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Do you want to talk to me?”

  That finally got her turning from the window. “What is there to say? I went on a fact-finding mission and I got the facts. Brett corroborated what was in the letter.”

  “He also told you how much your father loved you.”

  “They were just words, Mick. Nothing he did in life supported that.”

  And that was something he couldn’t argue with, no matter how he looked at her situation. He believed Jonas cared for her, but the man hadn’t backed up those feelings when it counted.

  The tower in Fairbanks alerted him he was cleared to land and he began their descent, leaving her once again to her thoughts.

  His relationship with his own father wasn’t the model example of a strong family bond, but at least he knew him. He had been given the opportunity to look the man in the eye and know he was his son. It was something he’d taken for granted, but faced with Grier’s circumstances, he saw the basic comfort that knowledge imparted.

  To know where you came from and that you mattered meant something.

  Mick landed and taxied them to the hangar, working his way through the postflight paperwork as quickly as he could.

  “You hungry?” Mick signed off on the last of the paperwork and reached for the small flight bag he carried with him. “We can go back to the Rooster.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Room service?”

  “Sure.”

  The drive back to the hotel was quick and Mick settled his hand on her lower back as they walked into the lobby. They were nearly to the elevators when a familiar voice called to him from across the small space.

  “Mick!”

  He turned to see Petey Stone, the grocer from Talkeetna he’d seen recently. “What are you doing here?”

  “My wife wanted to come up and get some shopping done and we also wanted to visit with our daughter who’s at the university.”

  Mick made quick introductions and Grier smiled broadly, taking an interest in the man’s daughter. He inwardly shook his head at the transformation as her words from the day before came back to him.

  She could be with him.

  The evidence of that—and the knowledge that she didn’t put on airs or act for him—was strangely heady.

  Mick keyed back into Petey’s comments as the man turned his focus on him. “So it’s funny I’m seeing you. I was going to call you after I got home. I meant it last week about that gun for your father. Do you think he’d like it?”

  The memories of that conversation hit him square in the chest and whatever joy had filled him at the thought of Grier’s trust of him evaporated under the reminder of his father’s great love and passion.

  “I don’t think he’s going to want it.”

  “Oh, so you talked to him?”

  “Nah, but I know he’s full up right now. I don’t think he needs another rifle.”

  Confusion briefly flitted across Petey’s face before an embarrassed flush crept up his neck. “Sure, sure. Sorry to pester you about it.”

  “Nah, not at all, Petey. Look. We’ve had a long day running up to Barrow. We’re going to call it a night.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll see you in a few weeks for the February delivery.”

  “You bet.”

  Mick returned his hand to the small of Grier’s back and continued their walk to the elevators. He didn’t miss the sharp interest that lit up her gaze, but she said nothing until they were in the elevator.

  “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “Sure is. He’s a client of mine and Jack’s.”

  “A good one, from the sounds of it.”

  “The best.”

  A sense of relief flooded him as they stepped off the elevator and Grier didn’t say anything further. She followed him down the hall to their rooms and waited while he unlocked the door.

  He allowed Grier to pass in front of him, watching as she walked and dropped the bag she’d filled with memorabilia from Brett onto the bed.

  As the door clicked closed behind him, she turned tired eyes on him. “It seems I’m not the only one keeping my thoughts to myself. You want to tell me what that was all about?”

  He saw the confusion stamped across her face, from the questions in her gray gaze to the firm set of her lips. Whatever he thought he’d managed to avoid in the lobby had been all in his head.

  Grier had missed nothing.

  And he simply couldn’t bear to let the ugliness of his past touch what was between them.

  Mick shrugged as a fifteen-year-old memory rose up to swamp him. “Not particularly.”

  The heavy tones of the doorbell echoed through Julia’s kitchen. Avery glanced up from where she and Julia had their heads bent over a sleek laptop, trying to identify the best flights to Ireland and back.

  “I’ll get it.”

  The smile she couldn’t stop spread across her face as she thought about the flights she’d take and the clothes she’d pack and the adventure she was going to have.

  And it fell sharply as she opened the door and stared at Roman, standing on the porch.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She shook her head, suddenly realizing how cold it was standing there with the door open.

  “Avery!” Julia’s voice echoed from the kitchen in the back of the house. “Who is it?”

  Roman bellowed into the house again. “It’s me, Grandma!”

 
He closed the door behind him and she risked a glance at him as his attention stayed focused on Julia as she came down the hallway. God, but it was so unfair a person should look that good. Even after traveling what was probably the last twelve hours, he looked as if he had walked off a photo shoot.

  His six-foot-four frame ate up all the space in the foyer and he looked like a giant as he enveloped his grandmother in his arms.

  Julia’s voice was a study in delighted surprise. “I thought you weren’t getting in until tomorrow.”

  “I wanted to keep it a secret. I made the gals out at the airstrip swear to keep it to themselves.”

  “Not an easy feat,” Avery interjected. She heard the dry, dusty notes of her voice and willed herself to calm down. Her evening with Julia had been fun and she’d be the worst sort of guest if she treated Roman like a piece of old gum she’d just peeled off her shoe.

  Add to it Sloan had given her a dressing-down for her behavior the last time Roman was in town and she knew she needed to pull it together.

  She had a new life and a new adventure coming up and she needed to let go of this stupid, petty attitude toward Roman. If she ever wanted more out of her life, she needed to start by letting go of the things that no longer mattered.

  “What are you two up to?” Roman pulled out of the hug and positioned himself to look at them both.

  “Avery got some wonderful news yesterday and we’re celebrating.” Julia beamed. “Come on into the kitchen and we’ll tell you all about it.”

  Avery followed that large imposing frame down the hallway and did her level best not to look at his ass. She lost the battle about three steps into it, but at least she tried.

  It was all part of her brand-new “put the past behind her” attitude adjustment.

  “Come on, Ave. What’s going on?”

  Her heart constricted at the nickname, but she planted a broad smile and refused to lose ground to her memories. “I’m going to Ireland.”

  “What?” Those vibrant green orbs widened and his mouth slackened. “I mean, how did this come about?”

  “She’s doing an exchange.” Julia beamed proudly as she puttered across the kitchen to grab a crystal tumbler out of a cabinet.

  “Three months working in a B and B over there and then I’m going to travel for another month.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “Isn’t it?” Julia set the glass in front of Roman. “I’m so proud of her. And to think we’re going to get an Irish woman here in Indigo for three months. It’ll be so much fun.”

  “Sophie must be rubbing her hands at the tourism opportunities,” Roman said with a false lightness Avery didn’t miss.

  “I need to go get the scotch out of the front room.”

  “I’ll get it, Grandma.”

  Julia waved a hand. “Nonsense. Let Avery tell you more.”

  Avery smiled at Julia as she left the room and began counting in her head.

  Three…

  Two…

  “What the hell are you thinking, Avery?” Roman’s harsh whisper echoed around the kitchen but was low enough not to carry down the hall.

  “I was thinking about expanding my horizons.”

  “To go to another country and work as a slave for someone you don’t even know?”

  “And how is that different from what I do for your mother?”

  “You’re not a slave.”

  “No, Roman, I’m not. I’m an employee. And I’m taking advantage of a career opportunity by spending three months in Ireland.”

  He frowned at how she’d twisted his words, but it didn’t keep him silent for long. “What does my mother think of it? You’re leaving her at her busiest season.”

  “She’s been quite encouraging.”

  Anger practically pulsed off him like blinking neon and Avery fought hard to hold back her smile. She hadn’t looked into this opportunity to spite Roman—in fact, she’d done it in spite of him.

  But his reaction was a pleasant surprise.

  “What has you so worked up?”

  “You’re going to be a stranger in another country.”

  “I’m not going into a war zone. It’s a bed-and-breakfast in Ireland. You know, big fluffy quilts on beds and tea towels and scones and clotted cream.”

  “It’s too far.”

  “It’s not the fucking moon, Roman. It’s Europe.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You can’t do this.”

  Whatever humor had filled her fled on swift wings. “You don’t have a say in it.”

  “I’m only thinking of you.”

  “Now that’s a funny thing. You haven’t thought of me in a very long time. And you have no right to think of me now.”

  “That’s not true. I think of you often.”

  The words pricked holes in her carefully constructed armor and she fought the rising pleasure at his words. Focus, Marks. Focus.

  Summoning up the biggest smile she could, she thought of her future. “Well, now you can think of me in Ireland. I’ll be sure to e-mail you plenty of pictures.”

  Grier fought to hold on to her composure as she stared at Mick where he still stood in the small foyer of his hotel room.

  “So you won’t talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Right. Because the subtext of that conversation downstairs was about as subtle as a moose walking in that door over there. What are you hiding?”

  His shoulders jerked as if she’d slapped him and she wondered all the more at the reaction. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Mick. What is it?”

  “Nothing.” He slammed across the room and dragged off his coat, throwing it over the room’s lone chair. He pulled his cell from his back pocket and started fiddling with the screen.

  “If you’re trying to convince me nothing’s wrong, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it, Mr. Honesty Is the Best Policy.”

  “So now you’re going to play the hypocrite, Grier?”

  She shrank back from the anger in his gaze. “I’m the hypocrite? You’ve been the one telling me for the last two weeks I need to address things head-on.”

  “You just spent the last three hours sulking in my plane, refusing to talk to me. I’d hardly call that head-on.”

  The urge to move closer and touch him gripped her, but she stood still and held her ground. “So this is some sort of quid pro quo? I had a few bad moments trying to digest what happened at Brett’s and you’re going to shut me out?”

  “Damn it! I’m not going to sit here and talk about my feelings like this is some session with a shrink. Save that for your New York friends.”

  Another layer of shock came flooding in over the initial surprise of his reaction to her probing. Something was very, very wrong. The man standing across the room from her was as feral as a cornered bear.

  Where was the Mick she knew? And what had possibly happened to him to make him act like this?

  “Please don’t make me ask you again. What is going on? It all happened when Petey mentioned that gun for your father.”

  “My father doesn’t need a fucking gun.”

  “Okay.”

  When Mick didn’t say anything else, she tried a different angle. “What did he say that was so upsetting? It was clear he was only trying to be nice.”

  His mouth twisted before settling into a harsh line. “You don’t give guns to someone who doesn’t know how to use them.”

  “I got the sense from the conversation that your father was a collector of some sort.”

  “My father’s a hunter and he had an accident.”

  No matter how many ways she tried to work through his words, Grier couldn’t see what had him so upset. “Mick. Please. Enough with the riddles.” She moved slowly toward him until she stood before him and laid her hands on his chest. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Fifteen years ago my father shot and killed my mother.”

  The words echoed around the room li
ke a gunshot. Mick mentally berated himself for the shitty comparison, but nothing else quite fit.

  “Oh God, Mick, I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

  He planted his gaze on the top of her head and avoided meeting hers as she stared up at him. “It was a long time ago and it rarely comes up. And it was an accident. He was going after something that had wandered into their backyard. I don’t even remember what it was, he’s mumbled so many different animals in his grief. He was a six-pack into the evening and she’d followed him outside to holler at him to put on a coat. The bullet ricocheted off an old snowmobile he kept back there.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s better left in the past.”

  “It’s a part of your life.”

  “A part of my life that I’ve gotten past.”

  Which was a nice story to tell, but it was a sizable load of bullshit. The vision of his mother, lying in the snow, blood streaming from her temple, was one he’d learned to compartmentalize in the back of his mind, but it had come back with a vengeance since that night with the researchers.

  And had continued coming back ever since.

  Grier lifted her hands to cup his jaw. “It’s a horrible thing to have to live with.”

  “It’s an even more horrible thing to have happen to you. I wasn’t the one who was shot, Grier.” He slipped from the comfort of her arms, surprised by just how cold he felt moving away from her.

  “Is this the real reason you were in the sauna that night after you pulled the men off the mountain?”

  He thought about that first night they were together. The researchers he’d pulled off Denali had left him in a bad state and Avery had sent him into the sauna to warm up with a bottle of Jack.

  “So Avery sent you in there?”

  Grier hadn’t moved from her spot and instead stood there, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “She told me where you were. I went of my own accord. Important distinction.”

  “So it is.”

  “Do you have nightmares about it?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “Have you talked to a professional about it?”

  The urge to lash out at her once more was strong, but he held it back. “I’ve spoken to Father Tom about it several times as well as Doc Cloud. I’m fine, Grier.”