Tell Me Again

by Michelle Major

  When he opened his mouth to protest, she put her fingers over his lips. “You know it’s true. You told me as much. It’s why you kept her from me in the first place. Your instincts were right about me.”

  “No,” he whispered, his breath warm on her fingertips. “They weren’t.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away from his face. “I blamed you for what Bryce did to me, and I let that anger color every decision I made. But for her it was always about hurting you.”

  “She loved me because we were a part of each other and hated me for the reminder of what she could have been.”

  Trevor drew in a breath. “It didn’t take her long to regret what she’d done. She admitted she never wanted a baby after she’d made the decision not to be a part of Grace’s life.”

  “My sister had no maternal instincts,” Sam answered. “I’m surprised—”

  “She didn’t end the pregnancy?” A muscle in his jaw worked as he said the words. “I’m guessing she would have if she hadn’t believed having my baby would affect you. I hoped something would change as the pregnancy progressed and the baby started moving. But nothing did.”

  “Yet you were still willing to marry her?”

  “I would have done anything to protect the baby. But I couldn’t stop my anger. She made me promise not to tell you, and I agreed. I wasn’t beholden to that promise after she was gone, and I should have reached out to you. You didn’t force her to be the person she was.”

  “I was her twin,” Sam said. “I tried to get her into rehab . . . I tried to . . . but I could have done more to help.”

  “Not if she wouldn’t take it.” He pulled her in for a gentle hug. “It’s the same with those kids. You can offer a helping hand but they have to be willing to reach for it. Your sister made her own mistakes. They weren’t yours.”

  “I made enough of my own. The kind you don’t want Grace repeating.”

  “She won’t,” he said firmly.

  “How can you be sure?”

  He gave a small laugh. “I’m not sure of anything when it comes to teenage girls, but I do know Grace has both of us looking out for her.”

  How could he possibly say that to her knowing what he did? “I’d understand if—”

  “You fought this hard to give the two of you a chance and now you’re going to give up on her?” He stepped away and she felt the loss of him like someone had stripped her bare and thrown her out into a blizzard. Without Trevor grounding her, she might as well be swinging in the wind. “I’ve thought a lot of things about you over the years, but never that you were a coward.”

  Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her. “I’m trying to do what’s best for—” She stopped, took a breath, and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. The truth was she was letting fear overwhelm her, and it clouded what she knew was right and what she wanted. But the thought that there might be even a kernel of truth to her doubts made her question every decision she’d made. “Of course I’m not giving up on her,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to hurt her, Trevor. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

  “Then don’t,” he answered simply. “You’re in control, Sam. The choice is yours.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to pick her up from volleyball practice. Are you going to be ok?”

  She gave a small nod. “Thank you for staying with me.”

  He moved closer and dropped a tender kiss on the top of her head. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be any other place.” He reached into his pocket and held out a granola bar to her. “This is for you.”

  She took it, surprised when a small smile tugged up one corner of her mouth. “Why?”

  “Ben and Ty thought the three of us were in the doghouse after you came into the kitchen.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Standing around gossiping like a bunch of schoolgirls.”

  “Yeah, well. Ty recommended flowers and Ben’s idea was chocolate to help get us out.”

  “And I got a granola bar?”

  “I had to run up to Boulder the other day for a client meeting. I stopped in a deli and they were selling those bars. The girl working the counter said they were all natural but tasted just like a peanut butter cup.”

  “I used to love those,” she said, her smile widening at the memory of saving enough change to buy her favorite candy at the drugstore on her way home from school.

  “I remember,” he answered, tapping one finger to the side of his head. “So I got it for you.”

  She laughed. “In case you landed in the doghouse?”

  “Nah,” he answered, backing toward the door. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and he was gone before she could formulate a response. Tears of a different sort sprang to the back of her eyes. When was the last time a man had thought about her happiness? She sank to the sofa and stared at the office’s closed door.

  In the midst of all the doubt and sorrow, Trevor had planted a tiny seed of joy inside her. As much as she pretended she didn’t need anyone, a part of her still wished for someone who would want to take care of her.

  She hadn’t planned on being alone for her life, her friends and the camp her only community. She’d met hundreds of people traveling for modeling assignments, knew dozens of famous people, but she’d walked away from that world without looking back. Other than her longtime agent, she didn’t keep in touch with anyone. Until Kendall and Chloe, there wasn’t one person on the planet she’d considered a friend.

  It was her own fault. She had too many sharp edges. Casual conversation and sharing—the kind that women did during shopping trips and girls’ nights on the town—didn’t come easy to her. It was difficult to trust people.

  Part of that came from her background. Her mother had only known how to use people for her benefit, even her own daughters. Sam’s bond with Bryce, while intrinsically tight, was also fraught with tension. She couldn’t step out from the shadow of it without repeating the same mistakes.

  Her feelings for Trevor, although complicated, had always seemed inherently pure. He’d broken her heart and kept a potent secret from her, but neither of those infractions had truly tarnished the place he held deep in her heart.

  Maybe it was too much significance to place on a granola bar, but the fact that he’d thought of her . . . thought of making her happy . . . had to mean that despite his doubts and anger, he still held on to his feelings for her as well.

  She walked to her desk, opened the drawer, and placed the granola bar carefully inside next to a photo of Bryce and her. It showed them at age ten, sitting side by side on the top of a picnic table. Sam was smiling at the camera but Bryce’s gaze was on Sam, a look of pure devotion on her face that made Sam’s heart squeeze every time she saw the picture.

  She wished she could see herself the way her twin had in that photo. Maybe then she could make all the wrong things in her world right again. Maybe she could believe she was worthy of love and happiness after all.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sam was easy to spot in the crowded waiting area in the main terminal of the Denver International Airport. Although she sat on her own, an empty seat on either side and a baseball cap low on her head, her beauty set her apart. As Trevor approached, he could see a few of the other passengers throwing sidelong glances at her, which she either didn’t notice or chose to ignore. Instead her concentration was focused on the laptop perched on her legs.

  He knew the moment she noticed him because her whole body stiffened as she snapped the computer shut.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, as he lowered himself into the seat next to her.

  “Going with you.” He placed his carry-on bag on the floor between his boots and sat back. “I called and texted, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I didn’t get them.”

  He smiled at the blatant lie. “You got them.”

  “Maybe I don’t need you to hold my hand through this,” she said irritably. “I’m a big girl, Trevor.
I’m used to taking care of things.”

  If she was pissy, he’d struck a nerve. That was good.

  Or bad.

  Given the bewildering labyrinth formed by his feelings for Sam, it was hard to know. There was a good chance she was telling him the truth. She’d made it without his help for years. Why would now be any different?

  Then he glanced down to where her fingers drummed across the top of the computer. They were trembling slightly.

  She followed his gaze and, when she realized what he saw, fisted her hands together.

  “I’m fine on my own,” she repeated.

  But he understood that Sam was as skilled at hiding her vulnerability as he was. “I’ve got a ticket and a hotel room. You’re stuck with me.”

  “What about Grace?”

  “She’s staying with a friend overnight.”

  “I hope not the one who helped her sneak out?”

  Trevor smiled because she sounded like an overprotective parent. Just like him. “A different friend.”

  “How did you know my travel arrangements?”

  “I talked to Mary Henderson.”

  “I’m surprised she told you,” she said softly.

  “You shouldn’t be alone for this.”

  She didn’t answer for several moments, and he expected her to bite off a retort about her independence or resilience or whatever.

  Instead she said a simple “Thank you.”

  He reached over and laced his fingers with hers, the silence between them surprisingly comfortable as the bustle of the busy airport moved around them.

  Trevor was fine until they started boarding the plane. Slowly he felt the familiar tendrils of anxiety slither around him. Awesome. His plan for being the hero was about to be derailed. He played it off as best he could, messing around with his bag and schooling his expression to match the same mildly bored look he saw on the faces of the people surrounding him.

  He could feel Sam’s gaze on him but ignored it. He checked his watch and then pulled out his phone, pretending to leave a message for Grace.

  By the time they were seated with seat belts clicked shut, he’d morphed into full-fledged panic mode.

  “What’s going on?” Sam whispered after the flight attendant had made a final pass through the cabin.

  He shook his head. “No talking,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m watching the safety demonstration.” He focused on the voice being piped through the airplane’s speakers and the young woman standing at the top of the aisle demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks.

  Sam gave a small laugh. “Trevor, seriously. What’s—”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I’m listening.” When the flight attendant finished, he glanced over the seat back. “You know where both exits are, right? What to do in case of a water landing?”

  She looked at him like he was speaking Greek. “We’re flying from Colorado to Texas. There’s no water landing between here and there.”

  His gaze slammed into hers.

  “And,” she added slowly, “there will be no need to land until we safely reach the Houston airport.”

  He gave a sharp nod then faced forward as the plane taxied toward the runway.

  Sam leaned closer. “Are you afraid of flying?”

  “Of course not,” he growled and forced himself not to flinch as the jet’s flaps lowered. “I just don’t like it.”

  The captain’s voice came on in the main cabin. The plane picked up speed and Trevor let his head press back against the headrest with the thrust of takeoff.

  She placed her hand over his on the armrest. “Because it terrifies you?”

  “Can’t talk,” he whispered. “Too busy praying we don’t crash and burn on takeoff. Did you know almost a quarter of fatal crashes happen during the initial takeoff and climb?”

  “Probably not what you should be focusing on now,” she said with a soft chuckle. She took his hand between both of hers as the nose of the plane lifted. He felt the moment they were airborne, the thrust of the engines and the rumble and thud of the landing gear retracting into the wheel wells.

  He blew out a breath as the plane banked sharply to the right.

  “You’re hot when you’re terrified,” Sam said close to his ear.

  He slid her a glance.

  She flashed a smile. “I’m trying to distract you.”

  “Good luck.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  He had to smile at her cheeky words. “Takeoff is the worst part,” he told her. “I’ll be fine once we settle int—” The plane dropped several feet and he squeezed her hand tight. “Shit,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I fucking hate turbulence.”

  “It’s fine.” She laced her fingers with his. “Did you know Grace has a crush on a boy in her social studies class?”

  “What boy?”

  “His name is Jackson,” she said, her voice measured and calm. “He plays football—”

  “No football players,” he said through clenched teeth as the plane continued to climb. “I was a football player. They’re bad news. Football players are off-limits.”

  “You’re her dad. I imagine all boys are off-limits as far as you’re concerned.”

  “Exactly.”

  She laughed. “He sounds like a decent kid. He’s on student council and they have the same lunch period. I guess one day last week he carried her backpack to her locker.”

  “She can carry her own backpack.”

  “That’s what I told her. I also said she’s too young to have a boyfriend, but it’s nice to have boys who are friends—”

  Trevor growled low in his throat and Sam elbowed his arm. “As long as they are kind and respectful,” she continued. “Like you were.”

  “I wasn’t kind,” he said with a snort. “I was a hellion.”

  “Not to Bryce and me. You were a good boy, Trevor, and you’ve grown up to be a great man.” She leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips just as the chime signaled that they’d reached ten thousand feet. The seat belt light above them went off a few moments later.

  “See,” she said, pulling away. “You made it. We’re at cruising altitude. It’s easy-peasy from here.”

  To confirm her words, the captain’s voice announced that he expected a smooth flight for the duration of the trip. Trevor let out the first full breath he’d taken since they boarded the plane. He lifted his hands to cup Sam’s cheeks and brought his mouth to hers. “Thank you,” he said after kissing her soundly. “I’m a terrible flyer.”

  She snuggled closer. “You and Grace don’t travel often?”

  He shook his head. “Not if I can help it. We went to Costa Rica a few years ago and it almost killed me. I prefer drivable destinations. She’s pushing to go to Hawaii this summer. I think I’d need horse tranquilizers to make that trip a reality.”

  “Is it because of how your parents died?”

  His mom and dad had been killed in a plane crash a year after he’d come to live with his nana. “I never liked traveling,” he admitted. “Even before that. They wouldn’t take me on their trips, and it was easier to blame it on the fact that I was afraid to fly.”

  “They did a lot of missionary work in other countries?”

  “By the time I moved to Colby, they were gone more than they were around.” He shrugged. “My dad was kind of a ‘freelance’ minister. He didn’t have a church of his own.” The thought of his father showing the stability to commit to a congregation made him want to laugh. “There are plenty of people who do missionary work and bring their kids with them. For my parents, it was all about the two of them traveling the world. They were dedicated to themselves and their mission. I was an afterthought.”

  “A child should never be an afterthought,” she murmured. “Your mom and dad might have used religion as a rationale, but they were in their own way just as selfish as my mom was.”

  “Probably,” he admitted. “They didn’t get as obsessive about traveling until
I was older. And it wasn’t until they started leaving me on my own instead of sending me off with other church families that my grandma realized what was happening.” He’d been around Grace’s age the first time they’d taken off for a two-week trip to Central America, leaving him fifty bucks for groceries and a list of Bible verses to memorize. “It seems crazy that they could hardly pay the utilities every month, but somehow they managed to raise the money for flights to wherever the spirit took them. They wanted to travel light, and I became too much baggage. But all I ever wanted was for them to choose to stay.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me all of that when I asked you to go to Europe?” Her voice was gentle.

  “Because you were set on leaving.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

  “I always wanted to be with you, Sam.” He shifted in his seat so that he was facing her. “I know you want an explanation, but I don’t think I can give you one that’s good enough. I was angry and stupid, and I didn’t think I deserved the future you were offering. I figured you’d come to your senses and realize you were better off without me, so it was better if I ended things first. It was a mistake and it cost us both. But I’m here now.”

  “I’m glad,” she told him.

  “Me, too.” He gave a small shudder as the plane hit a tiny patch of turbulence. “Smooth flight, my ass,” he muttered, then squeezed her hand. “Tell me about some of the other kids who come to the camp. Who are they and why are they important to you?”

  “You’re really interested?” She sounded skeptical.

  “I am,” he told her. “I’m also interested in you distracting me.” He glanced at his watch. “Otherwise, this is going to be a brutal two hours.”

  Sam held the room key to the card reader late that afternoon after checking into the downtown Houston hotel. She gave a little wave to Trevor at the other end of the hall then slipped into her room, pressing her back against the door as it closed.

  Butterflies dipped and danced around her stomach and she pushed her knuckles into her belly, the unexpected nervousness catching her off guard.