All the Way

by Beverly Bird

  “You’re wondering how she’s going to react when he goes. It was all over your face while you watched them.”

  Liv flushed. “Your IQ is one of my least favorite things about you.”

  “Live with it. I’m just telling you that when he goes next week, she’ll adapt. They’ll probably talk on the phone every day. She’ll write to him and send him things she did in school. She’ll wait with bated breath until he returns again. You, on the other hand, will curse the ground he walks on because he can’t be a traditional dad anymore than you can be a traditional mom.”

  Liv felt her stomach cramp. “This isn’t the time for this.”

  “You brought it up.”

  “No, I didn’t!” She blew out her breath. “So where does this leave us?”

  “Untraditional and loving it?” Kiki stepped forward again. Then she looked back. “Liv, don’t be stupid and narrow-minded twice in the same lifetime.”

  Liv froze. She wanted to swear at her, but Kiki was already headed for their table.

  Hunter had ordered champagne and a ginger ale for Vicky by the time Liv recovered and joined them. He lifted his flute in a toast. “To a whole new world.”

  Vicky gulped ginger ale. “What does that mean?”

  He tugged one of her pigtails. “That I wasn’t with you last New Year’s.”

  “So where were you?”

  Liv didn’t want to know.

  “Monte Carlo. With Monique Shaughnessy.” Then he winked at Liv, telling her it was a lie.

  She didn’t want to care.

  They were seated on time, and Vicky picked apart the menu. Liv shrugged at Hunter apologetically. “Blame Kiki. She’s spoiled her from the time she was born. Jarred baby food never passed her lips.”

  Hunter raised a brow at Kiki. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No godchild of mine is going to eat any vegetable I didn’t strain myself.” Kiki put her menu aside. “I’m going to give Frisco a chance to earn his stripes with the sea bass.”

  “Who’s Frisco?” Hunter asked.

  Liv rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t go there,” she warned.

  “The devil incarnate,” Kiki said.

  “He’s the chef here,” Vicky explained. “And Aunt Kiki hates him. He doesn’t know an ion from his patootie.”

  “His entry beat her berry cobbler at the fair last Fourth of July,” Liv said, sotto voce.

  Kiki glared at her.

  Hunter winced. “Ouch. He must be good.”

  Kiki ground her teeth together. “He cheated.”

  Frisco Carre came out of the kitchen a few minutes later when he learned his adversary was dining at the Connor. Kiki abruptly shoved back her chair and went off to the kitchen with him.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Hunter murmured.

  In the end, Kiki had no valid complaint with her sea bass. She claimed it was because she had contributed to its creation. They laughed, they talked, and the evening passed in a blur. Liv was sorry. With a sinking sensation she watched Hunter take the check. She’d decided that she wanted this night, this one last special night, to last forever.

  “Let’s go, squirt,” Kiki said, standing to dangle Hunter’s keys from her fingertips.

  Liv frowned. “Why do you have them?”

  “Because you’re not invited where we’re going,” Kiki replied.

  Liv felt her forehead pull into a frown. “Where’s that?”

  “To my apartment for a girls’ sleepover.”

  Liv didn’t know who to narrow her eyes at—Kiki or Hunter. Or Vicky. “What’s up and who’s behind this?”

  Hunter looked mystified. “Not me. I gave her my keys to take Vicky home so we could go back to the bar and dance a bit. That ends my involvement.”

  She believed him, Liv thought. “Then how are we supposed to get home?”

  “Stay here,” Kiki suggested, standing. “You might as well. I’ll have the squirt all night.”

  Vicky was practically twitching, she was so beside herself. “We surprised them, Aunt Kiki! We really did!”

  “Told you so,” Kiki replied. “Come on, let’s get your coat.”

  “Wait, wait,” Liv protested. She looked at Vicky. “You need a toothbrush. Clean underwear.”

  Kiki held up a purse that Liv had earlier considered to be very oversize for her outfit. “It’s taken care of.” She looked between them, her gaze shifting. “Fix this, you two. I’ve about lost patience with heart-to-heart talks in my kitchen.”

  Liv frowned. “What did she mean by that?” she asked when Kiki and Vicky were gone.

  Hunter stood as well. “Beats me. What do you think the odds are that we can still get a room here overnight and not have to worry about walking home?”

  “Slim to none. Unless Kiki thought of that, too.”

  Kiki had. Twenty minutes later Hunter slid the room key into his trouser pocket.

  “She’s up to something,” Liv murmured, dazed.

  “Obviously.”

  “I don’t have a toothbrush or clean underwear, either.”

  “I’ve known you too long to hold it against you.”

  She found herself staring at the tack—the copper eagle—on his tie. “Are we going upstairs now?” she asked hopefully. They had only a few days left together. She wanted to spend every second of them touching him, loving him, hoarding the memories so she would have something to cling to when he was gone.

  But Hunter shook his head. “No, Livie. We’re going to the bar. We’re going to dance and sing Auld Lang Syne and we’re going to trip the light fantastic. It’s New Year’s.” His voice was husky.

  Hers was a croak. “Oh. Okay. If you insist.”

  “Then we’ll go upstairs.”

  It was delicious, she thought an hour later, swaying in his arms to the music. It was everything she’d dreamed of all those years ago. If she could have closed her eyes back then and made a wish the morning he’d left her—the morning after telling her about Pritch and Anaheim—she would have prayed that nine New Year’s Eves later, they’d be dancing in each other’s arms, sharing a child between them who was as bright as the sun. That Kiki would still be on the fringes of their lives, manipulating, analyzing, cooking with ions.

  She didn’t want it to end.

  “Resolution time,” Hunter said as the song ended.

  Liv looked quickly at her watch. It was ten minutes before midnight. She felt dazed. She didn’t know where the time had gone. “I never make them anymore.”

  “Because you always break them?” His hand found hers and he guided her back to their table.

  She couldn’t help thinking how different this night was from the first time she had met him here, more than three months ago. “Because I always keep them.”

  He laughed. The sound was rich and warm and touched her skin. “We’re not so different, babe.”

  Something shuddered deep inside her. “I think we reached that conclusion Christmas night after the party.”

  He pulled her chair out for her, and she slid into it. Then he sat, as well, and leaned close to her. She saw something in his eyes, Liv thought. Some struggle. Some pain. She thought she saw fear, but this was a man who once dove headfirst off a cliff to catch an eagle.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “I love you, Livie Slade.”

  She didn’t know where the tears came from. One moment, her eyes were fine. The next, they were ablaze. He was going to stay. She swallowed once, twice, trying to find her voice. And she gave it back, with all her soul. “I never stopped loving you, Hunter. Not one minute of one day you were gone.”

  He touched his forehead to hers. She thought she could die in that moment and have no regrets. Then he spoke again and reality rained through her.

  “I called Montague today.”

  She couldn’t think. The name rang a bell, a distant bell, but she couldn’t quite put it into context with what they had just been talking about. Then she remembered. His lawye
r. “Why?”

  “I dropped the custody thing. I don’t want to take her away from you.”

  This was good, she thought hectically. It was everything she’d wanted three long months ago. And things inside her went as cold as stone. “Thank you. I…that’s good.”

  “You’ll let me see her again.” It wasn’t a question.

  Liv tried on a shaky smile. “Of course. If I didn’t, she’d murder me in my sleep.”

  Hunter nodded. “I need to drive back to California on Tuesday. But I can be here again by Friday. Okay?”

  He seemed to be waiting for something, but she didn’t know what it was. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  He straightened away from her and let out a heavy breath. “Good.”

  Liv fought frantically to make her brain work. Why was disappointment such an icy feeling? It chilled her from the inside out. “You can see Vicky whenever you’re here. I won’t—I can’t—she loves you,” she finished feebly. And why did that make pain flash over his face?

  “Peace?” he asked shortly.

  “Yes. Peace.”

  From somewhere distant, the crowd was chanting down numbers. Ten-nine-eight… Liv rallied. “Happy New Year, Hunter.”

  He grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. “I wanted to be upstairs right now. Inside you.”

  “Too late.” Her words were breathy and barely out of her mouth before he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Then I’ll have to settle for this.”

  And she would settle, too, Liv thought. Because the alternative was to go back to living without him entirely. I love you, Livie Slade. She clung to that as she met his mouth. She tasted all the heat of him, that sizzling intent that was Hunter Hawk-Cole alone. This was as good as it was ever going to get, she thought helplessly. It was too late to turn back time. But…as always…he would return to her.

  Now. Again. Here and there. She remembered how she had always felt before, years before, until she’d decided she couldn’t live with it anymore. They had tonight. That sentiment had always gotten her through.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered against his mouth.

  It wasn’t until he chuckled that she realized they were already halfway across the bar to the exit. She didn’t remember riding up in the elevator, either.

  They hurried down the hall. When they reached their room, he backed her up against the door. He was crazed, he thought. He had never wanted her more than he did right here, right now.

  His fingers found the blue silk fabric at her hips and dug into it while he drowned in her mouth. There was a pounding in his head, in his groin, counterpoints keeping tempo. Yes, they had peace now, but he didn’t want peace. He wanted more.

  He framed her face in his hands even as she caught his hips, holding him against her. Then she groaned and tore her mouth from his. She tilted her head back, giving him her throat, and he feasted there. He tasted her strength and all her heartbreaks on her skin. He wanted to steep himself in the first because maybe that would make him strong, too. And he wanted to heal the rest.

  She drove her hand into his pocket. “Key,” she rasped. “Hunter…we’re in public.”

  “Yeah.” There was no one else in the hall, but he dug for the key, as well. Found it. Jabbed it into the lock. Pushed the door open. They spilled inside.

  When he turned to lock it again and looked back, she was wrestling her dress over her head. He’d wanted to do that for her, and couldn’t complain. He went at her fast, gathering her up in his arms, angling them both back toward the bed. They fell there, her fingers frantic at his belt.

  “This is how we always wanted it to be, right?” he said against her throat, his mouth sliding lower. “You have the life you want, I have mine.”

  “We got our dreams.” She finally freed his belt, went for his zipper.

  “We’re happy.” His hands covered her breasts, molding them, then, impatient, he tugged one cup of her bra down to nuzzle there as well. “The way only we can be.”

  “This is perfect,” she whispered, pushing his trousers down his hips.

  “We’ll meet in the middle.” He finally reached behind her to unclasp her bra. His mouth fell to one nipple. The other. Not enough. Not nearly enough. He dragged himself away from her to stand and step out of his pants, to wrestle out of his shirt. He was only sane, safe, whole, when he was inside her.

  When he leaned back over her, she closed her hand around his hardness. “Mine. Whenever you come back to me.”

  “Every moment I can.”

  She pushed him down on his back and straddled him. “Please,” she whispered. “Please mean that. Every moment.”

  “Every moment.”

  She sank down on top of him, taking him in. And it was as it had always been, lifetimes ago. And now that they had found each other again, it was as though the rest of her spirit had come home. He filled her, gently at first, then urgently as they started to move together. And when the crest came, she sobbed his name. She collapsed on top of him and heard him say her name, as well, like a prayer.

  And neither of them could understand, as their hearts slowed, why they still felt hollow.

  Chapter 14

  L iv found herself back in Ingrid Small’s office three days later.

  “Coffee?” the woman asked. “Or arsenic?”

  Liv grinned wanly and folded herself into one of the chairs. “None of the above. Not this time.” Her stomach was roiling. She figured coffee might come right back up. “I still don’t understand why this is necessary.”

  “Because Woodingham runs a tight ship. If you don’t mind, I’m going to drink without you.” Ingrid got up and went to the coffeepot. “Great party, by the way.”

  Liv’s mind spiraled back to Christmas, and she returned the compliment. “Great costume. I was surprised to see you.”

  “I thought I’d stop by and check the carpet for bloodstains.”

  Liv managed to laugh. “Everything really did turn out fine. But…”

  Ingrid took her coffee back to her desk and waited expectantly, her brows lifted.

  “You said something that night that I didn’t understand,” Liv continued. “That the judge was banking on it?”

  “Ah. That.” Ingrid sipped and sat back, crossing her legs. “Well, it was clear three months ago that the two of you were either going to kill each other or turn into a family. I just think she was gambling on the latter.”

  It was more or less what Kiki had said. Liv felt a spasm in the area of her heart. Kiki had also said that when they parted this time, it would be forever.

  “One way or the other,” Ingrid continued, “Woodingham knew her job would be over. You’d either resolve this between the two of you—which you have—or one of you would have been tried for murder. And that would have been on the criminal docket, not in her courtroom.”

  “She’s wily,” Liv said halfheartedly. Then she frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this back then?”

  “I did. Sort of. I warned you she was unorthodox. Anyway, she wants to make sure things are nice and tidy before she lets you guys off the hook from having to appear in front of her again on Monday.”

  “She wants a…what did you call it?”

  “A Consent Order. It just memorializes everything you and Mr. Hawk-Cole agreed to between yourselves. In effect, there has to be some final paper filed to close out Hunter’s petition. Most judges would have settled for a Stipulation of Dismissal. Woodingham wants your agreement drawn in blood. She doesn’t want to see you in her courtroom again.”

  Liv wasn’t eager to ever cross paths with the judge again, either. “I can live with that.”

  “Okay, then. Montague drew up the order and had it hand delivered to me this morning. I’ve read it over for any loopholes, and there aren’t any. It’s safe for you to sign. After that, I’ll drop it off in Woodingham’s chambers tomorrow morning when I’m in court.” She slid the paper across her desk toward Liv.

  Liv took it with s
haking hands. This was good, she told herself again. It was the best Vicky could hope for. It was the only way this could be resolved. Hunter couldn’t stay planted, and a child needed a steady, solid home. So she would raise Vicky in Jerome and he would come back to visit…whenever.

  She read the terms of the order.

  It said that visitation would be worked out amicably between the two of them when Hunter could make it back to Arizona. He agreed to give her a two-day heads-up sign so she could effectively clear Vicky’s schedule—or, in the event that she couldn’t, she could let him know before he made the trip. She agreed to let Vicky spend at least a month traveling with him on the NASCAR circuit in the summer. They both knew Liv would be going along.

  He’d spend his off-season with them again. At least, Liv thought, feeling dead inside, until another Monique Shaughnessy came along…or until he got itchy with the routine.

  She’d declined child support. She couldn’t stomach taking the money he earned from the career that kept him away from them. On that issue, she’d flat-out refused to compromise. So Hunter was setting up three separate funds for Vicky—one for college, the other for use when she got out of college. The third was a household fund for red bridles.

  Liv signed her name on the bottom line and pushed it back to Ingrid. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” Ingrid agreed. “You know, I’m relieved. For a while, there, I really believed we’d end up in appellate court over this.”

  Liv let out her breath. “It wouldn’t have solved anything. When Hunter wants something…he wants something.”

  “He’s one hell of a man,” Ingrid said honestly. “I’m looking forward to seeing him race again, especially after he blew off the end of last season. I know that surprised both Montague and me.”

  Had it surprised her? Liv wondered. No, not deep down, she realized now. He’d wanted something, she thought again, and he’d always known he would go back to the cars later.

  She stood a little unsteadily. “Thanks for all your help.”

  Ingrid stood, as well, to shake her hand. “Take this in the spirit it’s intended, but I hope we don’t meet again, unless it’s at another of your parties. That really was a fun, fantastic night.”