Grounded: Michaela

by Leanne Karella

  "Things have not gone well on earth since you left. Look." He waved his hand over the crystal.

  She stepped up, peering into it. She saw Ty's ranch. His house, the barn, the horses. Even Stryker sitting in the shade under the one lone tree in the backyard. Ty leaned against the side of the barn, his arms folded over his chest, staring out over the land and cattle he so loved. He looked tired. The lines bracketing his mouth were deeper, his eyes troubled.

  "Tell me what you see," Gabriel said in his soft, even voice.

  "He works too hard."

  Gabriel sighed. "He's sad."

  Reluctantly, Michaela turned her gaze from her beloved Ty to Gabriel. "I tried."

  Gabriel shook his head. "He misses you, Michaela."

  "I don't understand."

  "It's been two months since you left. Everything has changed. He's secluding himself from his friends again. He attended Electra and Stephen's wedding, but even then, he left early. He won't answer Trent's calls, avoids him whenever possible. He's worse off now than he was before you went there."

  She desperately wanted to cry. To feel. This existence was not an existence at all. She'd even welcome the ache she felt when she left Unegi.

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "That, Michaela, must be your decision."

  "I do not understand, Gabriel. Please, tell me what to do to make him better. He shouldn't be hurting because of me. That's wrong. I was supposed to help him, not make him worse."

  "Watch," Gabriel whispered, motioning toward the sphere. "Then tell me what you decide."

  * * * *

  Ty pushed away from the wall of the barn. Fall was coming, so the calendar said, but you couldn't tell by the heat consuming the entire state.

  After putting the tack away he'd used on Killer, one of the five horses he'd been hired to train, he headed toward the house. The sun was starting to set. He went in, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, a scrap of paper off the table, and went back to his chair on the porch.

  Stryker ambled around the corner of the house, slowly climbed the steps, and flopped down on his feet. The dog hadn't been the same since Michaela left. He didn't even bark at strangers anymore. Stupid dog.

  Ty twisted the cap off the beer and took a deep swig. He needed to call Benny. He was going to miss another meeting tonight, but he just didn't have it in him to drive into Placer. He'd do it later.

  Stryker whined pitiably and nudged Ty's leg with his nose.

  "Yeah, I know," he murmured as he leaned over and scratched the dog's ear. "I miss her too."

  Ty unfolded the paper he held and examined the lines, squiggles and markings he'd memorized over the past couple of months. He still didn't know what it meant, but it was the only tangible thing he had left of Michaela. If it wasn't for the paper, she might not even have existed.

  He'd tried in vain to get Electra to tell him where she was, but the woman was stubborn, answering him with the same words every time. "You know where she is. It's your choice to believe it or not."

  Stephen had married Electra two weeks ago. When Ty had questioned him about his knowledge of Michaela's whereabouts, he'd been as cryptic as his wife, saying only, "Listen to your heart."

  "Okay," Ty said, looking up toward the evening sky. A few stars were bright enough to be seen even though dusk wasn't complete. "Okay." He pinpointed one star, remembering his childhood and some silly rhyme to wish on a star. "I'm listening to my heart." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Baby, if you're somewhere you can hear me…" He swallowed, feeling infinitely stupid. "If you can hear me…" He closed his eyes, leaned his head against the back of the chair. "I love you, Michaela. Whoever, wherever, you are."

  "I love you too, Ty Brock."

  His head whipped up so fast, it took a few seconds to realize it had grown dark. "Michaela?"

  Stryker let out a shrill whine, leapt off the porch, and pounced on the woman standing at the base of the porch steps. Michaela's laughter rang through the quiet evening.

  Dear God, she was here. She was back. She was… He stood up. "You're real," he said on a breath.

  Michaela pushed Stryker off and got to her feet. God, she was gorgeous. Her hair…it was long again. Her clothes…they were the same clothes she'd arrived in the first time. She even carried the little black bag.

  He took a deep breath and stepped back, nearly tripping over the chair before he landed on it hard. He was dreaming. She couldn't be here. Couldn't be real. Not looking exactly as she had several months ago.

  Stryker barked and ran circles around her, yipping like an excited puppy.

  "I am real."

  He shook his head. He was drunk. He had to be. Somehow. Shit, he'd only had one beer tonight. He hadn't been drunk in over three years. What was making him hallucinate?

  She slowly came up the three steps, moving closer to him. She smiled. God, he'd missed that smile. Her bright green eyes sparkled. Her hair was so pretty he wouldn't let her chop it off again.

  He shook his head. What was he thinking? She wasn't really here. He closed his eyes and willed the apparition away.

  "Gabriel said you missed me," she said, her voice the softest of whispers.

  His gut clenched. His heart was about to jump out of his chest. Squeezing his eyes closed even harder still, he shook his head in denial.

  "I heard you. You said you loved me."

  She's not real. You're dreaming. You're sitting here in your chair, asleep, passed out from sheer exhaustion. When you open your eyes she'll be gone.

  She was still there. Just inches from him. Her smile so sweet, so tender. He ached for her. Ached to hold her, to kiss her, to make her his for all time.

  "I love you too, Ty Brock."

  "Oh, God," he groaned.

  She giggled. "Yes, He had a little bit to do with this." She knelt down in front of him and slowly leaned forward, placing her hands on his thighs. "I'm real, Ty. I'm real, and I'm here because you want me to be."

  At her touch, his world tilted a bit. His breath sucked in, but the greatest sense of calm settled over him. His heart slowed, the knot in his stomach loosened. "You're here."

  "I'm here," she whispered, a soft, Mona Lisa smile curving her beautiful, lush lips. The scent of hot apple pie came to him on the warm evening breeze.

  He searched her eyes. And that's when he realized he'd never met a more honest, loving, caring person in his life. And she loved him.

  "Oh, sweetheart." He reached for her at the same time she launched herself into his arms. Their lips came together in a hot, deep, wet melding of lips that sent his blood pounding. "Baby. Baby, I missed you," he said between kisses. Her hands gripped his hair, her tongue delved into his mouth. Lust shot through him hard and heavy. "I need you."

  Standing up with her in his arms, his mouth still fastened on hers, he pushed through the front door, not stopping until they were sprawled on his bed. Her hands were eager, ripping at clothing, running over his body as if she couldn't touch enough of him.

  In seconds he had her shirt open, her pants off, and her full, sweet breast in his mouth. She cried out his name. His erection throbbed in his tight jeans. She clasped his head between her hands, her fingers pulling at his hair. "Ty!" she screamed.

  "Yes, baby." If this was a dream—

  "Please!"

  He tore open the buttons of his jeans, shoved his underwear out of the way. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid into the most perfect warmth he'd ever experienced.

  She cried out and he stilled.

  Virgin! "Baby, baby, I'm—"

  She grabbed his butt and raised her hips, her mouth seeking his. "More," she demanded, his bottom lip caught between her teeth.

  His chuckle turned into a moan as he sank deep inside her.

  She thrust her hot little tongue into his mouth and moaned. He rocked against her hips. She met his every motion with her own. Her fingernails scratched his back, his sides, his butt. Faster and faster he thrust into her until he thought he'd
die of the sweet torment.

  Her breaths grew as ragged as his, each exhale tipped with the most erotic sound he'd ever heard. Faster, harder, until her eyes opened and snared him. "I love you, Ty Brock," she moaned. Her muscles tightened around him. She cried out his name again, and then he was lost in oblivion.

  * * * *

  She couldn't breathe. He'd taken every ounce of life from her. And now he was squashing her to death. She pushed at his shoulder. "Ty," she grunted.

  He rolled off her, but didn't release her. His arms snaked around her back and he pulled her flush against his chest. "Sorry."

  He didn't sound sorry, she thought. She let out a long sigh and grinned. What they'd just done was more incredible than she could have ever imagined.

  "Are you really…" His voice trailed off as his fingers softly combed through her hair.

  "Yes. Well…not anymore." She laughed and looked up at him. "I've eaten of the forbidden fruit. I'm stuck on earth for the rest of my mortal life now."

  "Good." He kissed her. Gentle, yet there was fierceness behind it. A possessiveness. "Because you can't leave me again."

  "I came back for you, Ty." She kissed his cheek and inhaled his spicy scent. "Only for you."

  "We're getting married, you know that, don't you?"

  She giggled. "I had hoped so."

  "I'd like a child before I'm too old."

  "Just one?"

  He nuzzled her neck with his lips. "One to start."

  She laughed as his whiskers tickled her throat. "Yes. To start."

  "One question, baby," he said as pressed her into the bed and laid over her, this time holding himself so she could breathe. "What did the note say?"

  She looked into his sparkling eyes, reached up, and touched his cheek. "My Ty, my love. Keep my heart safe. It belongs to only you."

  "Oh, sweetheart." He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over hers. "And mine belongs to you." He nibbled her bottom lip. "Welcome home."

  THE END