Hmm. He paused for a moment and wondered who Liam put in charge of making the arrangements. A quick sweeping glance up and down the length of the cabin and he was more than sure Rhiann wasn’t the source person for their flight. If she were, there would be welcome bags and if he knew her at all, cushy slippers for Kelly and the boy. There’d also be cashmere throws draped over the seats. And flowers. Lots of flowers. It hadn’t taken her long once she was firmly established in Liam’s life to turn a tiny delight into a full blown tour-de-force. It was a Wilde sister quirk. Probably instigated by Charlize, Rhiann’s baby sis. She was the resident hippie-girl of the three and forever going on and on about being present and smelling the coffee or in this case, the flowers.
With none of that in evidence, he concluded it was Gardner in charge. He loved Marjorie Gardner in a Bruce Wayne and Alfred kind of way. She was Liam’s undisputed right hand at BPG and, just like Roman, had far more personal connection to the man than what you’d expect of an employee.
He tried to imagine the conversation. Liam explaining Kelly and Matty’s imminent arrival and that the pair were traveling with Roman and under his wing. Nothing rattled Gardner. He admired the quality. The woman could lead the way through an onslaught of hungry zombies, swatting back each threat with her usual unflappable calm, while consulting a guide for surviving an undead apocalypse without her heart rate increasing one little bit.
They could have used a kickass babe like Marjorie Gardner in the war. She wouldn’t take anybody’s shit—no matter which team they played for.
As he slid into the leather seat across from Kelly she barely looked up. He wished she didn’t look so damn unhappy. It was going to be a long flight.
The sky seemed bluer at thirty thousand feet. And the clouds. They were different, too; floating around the plane in solo white puffs instead of as two-dimensional scenery viewed from the ground.
She liked blue. It was an excellent color with an infinite number of shades to play around with. There was dark blue, sky blue, and baby blue. There was also cerulean and azure. Color words to describe the endless shades were limited only by one’s imagination. Periwinkle, teal, indigo and midnight. Blue was perfect for so many things.
A stained glass design formed in her thoughts. Using only her imagination, she built a hinged box from scratch in opalescent glass done in flowing swirls to suggest movement. It would be mid-range in size. Nothing too small and definitely not bulky.
Roman touched her leg. Half-startled that she’d been so far away, Kelly blinked and quickly checked to be sure Matty was behaving.
“I’m not sure you heard a word I said. Where’d you go?”
She crossed her legs and arms. The defensive posture was stiff and ridiculous considering who she was with, where they were, and the innocence of the question.
Overreact much? Sheesh. Damn period hormones.
Lifting her shoulder in a defeated shrug, she gave up and rearranged in the seat one more time. She wasn’t used to being inactive. There was a universe of difference between still and sedentary. Living a busy life lacking down-time shaped her habits. When there was nothing to do, she well…she didn’t know what to do.
Was the explanation lacking in eloquence and making no sense at all? Yes, but there you have it. The world according to Kelly James. Not knowing what to do when there was nothing to do.
“I was in my workroom. The one in my head. Sorry. What were you saying?”
His mouth twitched. He was holding back a laugh or comment. Was she being that difficult?
“If I don’t make any sudden moves, will you please come sit with me?” Patting the leather chair next to his as encouragement, he lifted his tempting mouth into a lopsided smile with eyes hopeful and wide. “Pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top?”
She ducked her head for a brief second to hide the amusement and then came back with a response that made him bark with laughter.
“Make it two cherries with extra whipped cream, and I’ll take your request under consideration.”
“Sprinkles?” he quipped.
“Ew, no.” She stuck out her tongue and made a face. “Yuck.”
“Fudge sauce or caramel?”
She groaned. “Now you’re just mean.”
He shook his head. “What? How?”
“Things you need to know,” she announced snippily with an exaggerated hair flip for shits and grins. “Don’t poke the bear.”
“Uh,” he mock-growled in a warm, teasing voice. “There’s a bear?”
She rolled her eyes and lingered with her gaze heavenward as if praying for patience. “Yes, you boob. In this scenario, I am the bear. Would you poke a bear for any reason? No. Not if you’re sane. Bear poking when said bear has um, female issues, is suicidal. Waving imaginary ice cream, whipped cream, fudge and cherries in my face is akin to bear poking. Cut it out unless you want to be a eunuch.”
“Lady,” he snickered in his sexy drawl. “Using words like akin and eunuch in a conversation is practically guaranteed to end with you being bent over the end of the sofa with your panties in my back pocket so I can demonstrate why not castrating me benefits you. Or, if you want to get specific, benefits your pussy. Take your pick.”
She smacked his knee, swiftly flew across the space between them, and swung into the chair by his side. He’d raised the armrest making the spot more like a loveseat. “Will you watch your language please?”
He glanced at Matty who was gleefully ignoring them while coloring on a large art pad with a plastic pencil box crammed full of new crayons—a surprise gift from Roman to commemorate his first airplane flight.
The innocent butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth expression as he put a hand on his chest in faux outrage over her slapping him down was freakin’ hilarious.
“I thought you liked dirty talk.” He sounded like a kid who just learned the tooth fairy was bullshit.
Well, she sniffed. He had her there.
Once he’d pried open the floodgates to her dammed up sexuality and let the deluge of lust she felt for him run freely, the filthy words he taught her fell quite easily off her tongue.
Bringing every drop of prude she had to her reply was easy considering her current hormonal phase. “Do not be a dick.”
She yelped and tried to smack him when he pulled her into a loose headlock with one arm and drew her close to mutter thickly in her ear. “Mmm. Pussy and dick in the same conversation. Continue.”
“What is wrong with you?” Giggle-snorting, she pushed away from him and sat back in her seat.
“God, so much,” he drawled in response. “But not nearly so much since I met you.”
“Hey. Don’t blame me for your guy problems. The way I recall this thing going down, you were already second hand, dinged, dented, and generally full of shit when you teleported into my life.”
The look he gave off came damn close to setting her jeans on fire. She more than liked how he did that. Did it bother her at all that she quite literally met, got bitchy with, touched, and then bedded the hunky stranger who came fully loaded with an agenda?
Eh. Maybe a little bit. Not enough, though. Whatever this thing between them was, to her, it felt right. If he fucked her over in the end, she would have to deal with it.
Still, he didn’t give off a threatening vibe and had asked, well, actually…both of them asked the other for a bit of trust. In her estimation, these things were clues to his true character.
There was no denying Roman was in a tough spot. But she was grateful for the effort he put into being on her side. And for not scaring or rushing her. If she couldn’t trust that and him, then she wasn’t capable of the emotion.
“Why don’t you get up and move around? All this sitting has to suck.”
Does it show, she wondered? The restless tension. Was it apparent to others?
“No,” he murmured quietly. His head shook back and forth. It was freaky and comforting to know he read her so easily.
He took
her hand and twined their fingers together. This was another thing she liked. The handholding.
“I know what it’s like.” He sounded serious.
Kelly felt a pull on her senses. The draw. She shifted closer and turned into him when he started to speak.
“Being in a war is a twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five deal. When it’s happening all around you, there’s no such thing as intermission or let up. Me and my crew would take an out-of-country R ‘n’ R break and end up supersonic with our balls on fire the whole time instead of chillaxing. It took a couple of months for me to downshift and find a new gear.”
“But you knew what your other life contained. What it smelled like. How it felt. I just blew up every shred of familiar. None of this is real to me.”
“Carina.” The slow, lazy drawl claimed her full attention. “We are alike. I see the warrior in you.”
All the air caught in her chest. To him, she wasn’t invisible or forgotten.
“My time on the battlefield had a beginning and a middle and an end. Fuck, babe. I even knew the date when my service would wrap up. You never knew anything else, and there was no end in sight.”
“Until Matty,” she hastily reminded him. “Matty changed everything.”
“Ah, exactly. The boy. He gave you the confidence to imagine a different life.”
Thinking about his words, she stared at their joined hand and welcomed the surge of heat shooting up her arm. He was so right. She did a better job as a single mother than other girls her age that had given birth. The experience wasn’t without benefits either. The confidence and determination she nurtured along with Matty had done well by them so far.
And she’d done it all with nothing. Less than nothing.
“Honey. You’re showing some serious cojones by taking a shot in the dark. I’m humbled by your strength. Every leap of faith is a judgment call.” He raised their joined hands and kissed hers. “I’ve got your back, Kelly.”
It all poured out of her. Every doubt, insecurity, worry, fear, and folly. He listened without censure and never let go of her hand. When she got to the part about how the fish out of water analogy fit and that she felt vulnerable, exposed and naked, he put two fingers on her lips to silence the outburst.
“I’ll just say again that nothing will happen without your consent. There’s no time frame, no need to rush. We’re on your schedule. However long it takes and whatever you need. I’m there for you.”
“What if I hate the city?”
She didn’t expect the scoffing snicker. “You won’t be the first. The city is a love-hate thing to begin with, so don’t beat yourself up about it. Besides, nothing’s set in stone.”
Relief spread throughout her body. Oh, thank god. She needed to hear that.
“Um, Roman?” Worried Matty might hear she carefully whispered. “What happens when we land? I know you explained all that earlier, but I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Our body clocks will think it’s early evening. Right after dinner. But on east coast time, it’ll be around ten. We’ll load our stuff into an SUV and go straight to my place. Rhiann sent a text. The refrigerator is packed, and she put a plastic container full of homemade chili in the front, so we don’t have to dig for it. That’s it. Promise. Plane to apartment and then we shut the door. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”
She said one last thing, waited for him to laugh at her, and ended up doing a double, triple take when his reaction was the complete opposite.
Wiggling her hand away from his grip, she got manic in a heartbeat. “I look like a slob. My hair’s a mess. Ginny trimmed it for me but still. My wardrobe is nothing but jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. Hell, Roman, I don’t have a purse or a wallet. You heard what Matty said. He wasn’t kidding either. I’m almost twenty-four years old and haven’t ever worn a dress. My shoes are from the Thrift Store. Buried in the woods, I didn’t care about these things. Oh, I knew,” she assured him somberly, “that when Matty and I moved I’d have to make some sort of socially acceptable effort. But not at a finger snap. Or overnight.”
By the end of her tirade, Kelly was out of breath and felt even more emotional.
The way he looked at her made everything happening around them shift into slow motion. She felt like the center of the universe.
“You are,” he breathed heavily, “ the most beautiful, alluring, gorgeous female alive on this or any other planet. Truth, honey. I would never set you up with a lie just to spare your feelings. And before you object by cutting me off with a few more of your imagined shortcomings, relax. Did you think I’d put you in a situation where you’d feel…less?”
“It’s not you,” she persisted. “Nice thought but you don’t rule the world.”
“I think this is a wrap it up moment, so it’s my turn to do the cutting off. Maybe not the smoothest surprise ever but at least I tried. Rhiann got both of you hooked up with a few casual outfits.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Master Matthew James will be dressed by Gap for kids. I believe there is even a pack of dinosaur boy-briefs. She wouldn’t go into detail, but I know Rhi. Whatever she came up for you with will be casual, low-key and super comfortable.”
Swallowing took effort as she tried to wrap her head around this development.
“How much did she spend? I mean, I’m sure I can cover it but, uh…” Oh shit. She sounded ungrateful when all she wanted to do was take care of her own shit.
“Kelly. Hon. I know it’s tempting to deny that you’re a fairly wealthy young woman, but ignoring the facts won’t make them go away. Money is not the issue. Rhiann understands major life changes. She’s just trying to be helpful.”
“It’s not her. I don’t want that man’s filthy money.”
Roman grunted. She knew he understood and was grateful he didn’t try to soften her bitchiness.
“By ‘that man’ I hope you’re referring to Adam Ward and not your brother. Liam isn’t the bad guy in all this. He’s also trying to do the right thing.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She shut down like a steel door closing. There was only so much she could take.
He didn’t push. Part of her wanted to argue for the sake of arguing, but he wouldn’t engage. By cutting her off at the knees and conceding to her emotional hide-and-seek maneuvers, he drained her denials and arguments of their oomph.
Dick.
She slid her gaze to his handsome profile and amended the thought.
Hot, crazy, sexy, and funny as shit, dick.
Flicking a piece of fuzz off her jeans, she counted the time left in the flight and returned to worrying about everything.
He’d said tomorrow would take care of itself.
She sighed heavily and thought, ‘Is it ever that simple?’
A man in a dark gray business suit met them at the airport in New York. She knew the second she spied him from the window, walking across the tarmac on the way to the plane, that it wasn’t Liam Ashforth. This guy carried himself in a tense and overly formal way.
Kelly licked her lips, scraped her teeth across her bottom lip and pushed some loose hair behind her ears. It didn’t matter who the approaching man was. Not really.
What did matter was one simple thing, something she’d been steeling herself for. Feeling a bit like Dorothy with Toto by her side, the small, scared voice in her head shook when she thought, ‘Matty, we aren’t in Oklahoma anymore.’
Her life before this moment, Matty’s life, all of it was effectively wiped out. When that man came aboard, she’d never be plain Kelly James, a simple country girl from the backwoods, again. From now on she was Adam Ward’s bastard daughter. A bastard daughter raising another of the man’s bastard children. And she was being publically welcomed with open arms by a brother who was a complete stranger.
People would stare. And judge. With such a salacious backstory, who could blame them? Hell, she’d be staring if it happened to someone else.
Roman, Matty and Captain Nemo were hi
gh-fiving, fist bumping and saluting through an amusing dude-pantomime that made her smile. Sam had always been Matty’s only male touchstone. She was really, really glad that Roman was a positive male role model.
As she moved to the door of the plane, her feet felt like concrete blocks. Dread and anxiety fought for primacy in her stomach. A small gust of frigid air blew into the cabin from outside.
New York was fuh-reezing in January. Ugh. Wishing she had a warmer jacket and thinking about the bulky, practical coat she left back in Oklahoma, Kelly instinctively sought the warmth and security of Roman’s physical presence. Coming upon him from the rear, it didn’t surprise her when his hand swung back to urge her forward as if he’d seen her coming with eyes in the back of his head.
She took his hand. His grip felt confident. Some of her jitters backed off. There was no hesitation on her part when he brought her to his side. She glanced up when he looked down at her. His expression said, ‘I like you at my side.’
Captain Nemo greeted her with a deferential nod. “Well, Ms. James. How’d I do for your first flight? No barf bags needed I hope.”
“Barf bags,” Matty hooted with childish glee. “That’s cool.”
The captain pulled open a compartment, shuffled some stuff around and withdrew two of the bags emblazoned with the charter company’s logo.
“Here ya’ go Matthew. Official vomit containers approved by the FAA. Use them wisely.”
Matty’s reaction was priceless. His eyes were wide and full of wonder as if he’d been handed Excalibur to look after. A long, amazed, “Wow,” filled the cabin.
Roman squeezed her hand and chuckled. The captain looked at her and winked.
Matty was her anchor. She took her cues from him. He liked the comical pilot, and she appreciated his professional manner. With Roman’s support as fuel, she extended her hand and smiled.
“Thank you, Captain Nemo. No barfing, no quiet sobbing or screaming in fear. Let’s count this as a success.”
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