Turn Back Time (The Full Circle Series Book 1)

by Annette G. Anders

  “Nugget, I can’t see you spending more time in the kitchen than is absolutely necessary.” Revan reached over her shoulder for the box with the madeleines.

  “Take your sticky fingers out of there. Those are for later,” she slapped his hands away. “But I meant to tell you something, Shutterbug. Remember the boxer puppies? My parents adopted them, and they came home last weekend.”

  Revan glared at Naomi and said, “Why am I not surprised? Do you always get what you want?”

  “No, of course not. There was this one time…well, anyhow. The puppies are too stinking cute. You should swing by and meet them.”

  “I’ll visit them after I get back from my next trip. Time to hit the road again. What are their names?” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “Scarlett and Dixon.”

  “I have a suspicion who’s responsible for naming the poor puppy Scarlett,” Rev looked straight at Naomi, “but where does Dixon come from?”

  “Dad’s been reading a book about some war recently. Maybe there was a General Dixon?” Naomi suggested, shrugging.

  He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “Oh, Nugget, you’re beyond words.” He reached out and tousled Naomi’s hair.

  “I know. I told him he should name the dog Rhett, but he insisted on Dixon.” Naomi looked sideways at Revan. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, really. I hope you don’t make Scarlett wear a bonnet when you take her for walks in the park. And please don’t put her in one of those god-awful pet strollers. I’m sure she has four healthy legs and will want to run.”

  Naomi gave him a little shove and said, “I can’t decide whether you’re arrogant or ignorant, Revan Forrester. Why was I worried sick about you in Paris?”

  Chuckling, he walked to one of his bookshelves and pulled out a National Geographic History magazine. “Here, take this home and read it. It has a great article about the Mason-Dixon line, with photos provided by yours truly.”

  “I’ll put it on my nightstand, thanks.” She took it without looking at it and set it aside.

  “You’ll have to open it to read it, Nugget.” He grinned and walked to the bar. “Drinks, anybody? I’m not waiting for Jo and Luca to get here. By the way, do you know why he had to pick her up at the train station? She knows where we live!”

  “It’s what a gentleman does, but I wouldn’t expect you to know that. I’ll have a glass of red wine if you don’t mind. You’ll find me in the backyard,” Naomi countered and went outside. “Nice backyard fountain, Stella. It looks beautiful with the new bistro set. Very French…”

  “How’re things at home, Rev?” Luca asked. “Your parents must be thrilled to know you’ll be around for a few weeks.”

  “Mom’s getting a little too clingy and calls every other day. It was great to come home after I had all my business finished with the police in Paris. But you know me, I need to be out there. I’m flying to Haiti tomorrow.” Revan leaned back in one of the outdoor chaises. “Stella, I have to admit I wasn’t so sure about your fountain idea, but it’s not bad.”

  “Thank you. I’ve been sitting out here every minute I can. Listening to the water splash is so relaxing, and I love to watch the birds playing in it.”

  “And so romantic…” Naomi’s voice trailed off and she batted her eyelashes. “Only David is missing.”

  “Yes, you’re right. And stop being so snarky. Luca, can you set everything up so we can look at the photos on the big screen?” Stella asked.

  “Sure. I assume you downloaded everything to your laptop?” He got up and walked inside. “Password the same as usual?”

  “Yes.”

  Jo promptly followed him. “I’ll grab another glass of wine. Anybody want something?”

  Naomi poked Stella and said, “Did you see? She’s going wherever he is. Something’s going on…”

  Rev looked around and said in a stage whisper, “I think so too. It’s obvious. She’s thirsty.”

  “Do you know anything? Aren’t you Luca’s best friend? Go ask him what’s going on and how they spend their time in New York.” Naomi snapped.

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t care if they sneak around together.”

  “Drop it, guys. There’s no sneaking around. Jo and I go out for drinks every now and then. It’s what friends do,” Luca said from the French doors. “Everything’s set up, Stella.”

  “I can’t believe people are actually booking trips like yours. Nugget, are you really going to sell such sentimental hogwash to your customers?” Revan asked when they got settled on the chairs and sofa in front of the TV.

  “You bet I am. I already have a few customers who are interested in it. It was a wonderful tour and very romantic. But one needs to have at least one romantic bone in their body to admire the beauty of what we’ve seen. You don’t seem to have one, though, so the tour would be wasted on you.”

  “No need to worry, Nugget. Many women have told me how much they appreciate my romantic bone,” Rev grinned.

  “Ugh, just what I wanted to know…”

  Stella laughed and said, “You asked for it.”

  For the next hour, they took turns sharing memories of their trip, often stopping the slideshow to relive a moment.

  Stella gasped when a photo of her and David on the observation deck of the Montparnasse Tower filled the screen.

  “When did you take this, Nam?” Seeing him in the photo made her heart miss a beat. She wished David could be with them right now.

  “When you two were immersed in one of your many little talks. Looked more like flirting to me, though.”

  Stella’s phone rang with a familiar ringtone and she jumped up to answer it. “David wants to FaceTime. Is it okay with you guys?”

  “Sure, put him on,” Luca said.

  “Hi, baby, how are you?” Stella greeted David. “We’re looking at the trip photos. Wanna say hi to the gang? Wait, I’ll flip the camera setting.”

  “Bring ’em on, love,” he smiled. “Hi, guys, how’s it going? Luca, Jo, good to see you.”

  “Doing well. I hear you’re out of the doghouse, but I’m warning you, all eyes are on you,” Luca laughed. “Big brother and all…”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything different,” David said. “I know I’ll have to earn my way back into everybody’s good graces. I really look forward to seeing you all in November.”

  “We’ll make sure to get together. Let me know if you also swing by New York. We’ll go out for a beer or two.”

  “Would love to; sounds good.”

  Stella switched the phone’s screen back and stepped outside, holding her hand under the splashing water. “How was your day?”

  “Good. The usual stuff. Did the new fountain finally get installed? I hear water in the background,” he asked.

  “Yes, I thought I mentioned it when it was delivered. And I got my tickets today. I’ll arrive in London at ten in the morning on Saturday, September first.”

  “Perfect, I’ll pick you up at the airport. I have a performance in the evening, but we have all day until around 5. Wanna come to the show?”

  “No, not on the first night. I’ll be too tired. But I’d like to go on Sunday.”

  “Sure.” He lowered his voice, “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too” Stella said quietly.

  “I love you. We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay, baby?”

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  Stella joined the others, but her mind was far away while they continued their slideshow. The amicable way David was being welcomed back into their group, how Luca playfully told him he’d be watching him, was calming her underlying jitters. He fit right in three years ago, when he came for the first dinner, and he’d fit right in again.

  “Whoa, hold it there for a second.” Revan sat up straight and stared at the screen. “Who’s that?”

  “Me, Shutterbug,” Naomi said. “Do you nee
d glasses?”

  “I’m talking about the guy feeling you up.”

  “What? Are you stupid? Nobody’s feeling me up.”

  “What’s his hand doing under your shirt, then?” Rev got up and pointed to the spot in question.

  “Who cares?” she shrugged it off.

  “When did you have time to meet someone in Paris?” Rev stood close to Naomi and glowered at her. “So, who is Mr. Tentacle?”

  “He’s the guy who saw you in the tunnels, right after you let Creepy Cop truss you up.”

  “And what’s your connection again? I don’t think you ever told me.”

  “Oh, Rev, it’s a long story and for another day. I do happen to meet people without your pre-approval.” Naomi patted his cheek and walked away.

  Stella followed her and pulled her aside, “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. This shit with Rev is getting to me more than it used to. I’m sorry, but I think I’ll be heading home.”

  “I’m sorry. We can tell Rev to mind his own business.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  They hugged and Naomi called out, “Bye, all. I’m going home. Puppy duty—I promised Mom and Dad I’ll do the evening poop tour around the block.”

  “Hey, Nugget, don’t talk to strangers,” Rev called after her.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m a big girl.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Stella—September 2018

  S

  tella shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. They were still sweaty and trembling.

  Before landing at Heathrow Airport, the Airbus A-330 had been forced to fly countless loops through heavy rain gusts, shaking the airplane as if it weighed nothing. Is this storm an omen for what’s to come? What if this week in London is a mistake?

  “Next!” yelled the middle-aged immigration officer.

  “What’s the reason for your visit?” he asked when Stella handed over her passport.

  “Vacation,” she replied. Why do their questions always make one nervous? They had no reason to deny her entry. But she’d be glad when she had her luggage and walked out into the arrivals area. With a little luck, straight into David’s arms.

  She couldn’t wait to see him. No way was it a mistake to be here. And she’d never been to London, so that was an added perk. Plus she’d already collected a folder full of ideas for sightseeing and day trips.

  The officer slammed an immigration stamp into her passport and handed it back to her. “Enjoy your stay,” he said before he barked, “Next!”

  At the baggage carousel, she watched dozens of suitcases go by. Most of them were black or gray, dented and scratched, wearing battle scars from being tossed around the depths of cargo areas around the world. Whole families congregated smack in front of the conveyer belt, fathers telling their children not to touch, but doing nothing to keep their offspring out of the way.

  An older woman with a cane stood not far from Stella, and she wondered how on earth such a fragile lady would manage to pull her luggage off. If it arrived with hers, she’d get it for her.

  She spotted her suitcase and fought her way closer to the luggage belt. A small amount of tension left her. It was a relief to know her luggage made it and wasn’t on its way to another foreign destination.

  Just as she reached for her light gray suitcase, easy to recognize thanks to the burgundy luggage strap, an elbow rammed into her side and almost shoved her into the older woman. A burly man reached around her and pulled his two oversized sports bags off the belt with one hand. Show-off… She caught a whiff of something unpleasant. Stella didn’t like to smell cigarette smoke in general, but this was an extra nasty-smelling brand.

  “Hey, watch it. I’m trying to get my suitcase, too,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll come around again,” he said and sauntered away.

  Was there an equivalent to road rage when flying? Some people acted like assholes once they saw the finish line—or in this case, the Exit sign behind the customs area. No patience or manners left at all.

  Stella watched her suitcase moving farther away—practice what you preach, be patient—when she noticed the elderly lady shifting her cane from one hand to the other and reaching for a brown suitcase.

  “Let me get it for you,” she picked it up and placed it next to the woman. “Do you have more luggage? Do you need help getting through customs?”

  “Only this, thank you, dear. I can roll it, and my son is waiting for me on the other side of the doors.”

  After Stella’s own suitcase emerged from its unnecessary extra trip, she made her way toward the bright green Nothing to Declare sign.

  She felt giddy. The last few weeks had gone by fast, but not fast enough. Only a few more minutes and she’d see David again.

  “What do you mean, open my bags? I have nothing to declare,” an angry voice shouted. She looked around to see the bully had been tagged for a bag check. She knew it wasn’t nice, but she didn’t feel sorry for him at all, especially when he seemed to take the same attitude with the female customs officer as he had with her.

  “Come with you? I don’t think so. I have a train to catch,” he bellowed, as Stella saw two border force officers approaching him with their dogs.

  She kept moving. Too bad she’d have to miss the end of the little drama.

  The doors in front of Stella slid aside and she stepped out into a sea of expectant faces. And was swept up by strong arms.

  “There you are! Oh, baby, I missed you.”

  “David,” she laughed. “Let me at least put down my suitcase.”

  “Drop it. I’m not letting go of you,” he replied and kissed her with an urgency that made her tingle all over. “Let’s get out of here. And you’re lucky—the rain just stopped, and the sun came out. Heaven smiles when angels travel…”

  He set her down and reached for her suitcase but kept a tight hold on her hand. She didn’t want to let go, either.

  During the taxi ride, she stayed snuggled under David’s arm with her head resting against his shoulder. She listened to him pointing out a few sights, but for the most part she was content simply knowing they had a whole week together.

  His rented apartment was modern and comfortable, and she could understand why he preferred it to a hotel room. It had a homey feeling. After he finished showing her around, he offered to make coffee or tea. Stella longed for a cup of real coffee, not the junk served on airplanes.

  “Who’s doing the cleaning and laundry?” she asked as she got comfortable in one of the wide chairs in the living room, eyeing the low glass-top coffee table in front of them.

  “Housekeeping comes in once a week, which is enough. Washers and dryers are in the basement, and I drop off my dress shirts at the cleaners. For cooking, I keep the basic staples, but most of the time I pick up takeout,” he said from the open kitchen, where she could see him taking cups out of the cabinet.

  “Do you sometimes sit on your little balcony?” She had spotted it outside the French doors as soon as they walked in, attracted to the bright sunshine streaming into the room.

  “No, it’s too narrow for sitting. Did you know they’re called Juliet balconies?” David walked in with a tray laden with coffee mugs, sugar, milk, and scones.

  “What an interesting shade of orange...or is it salmon?” She touched the short rose in a slim vase on the tray.

  “I’ll let you figure out the correct color name,” he said with a wink.

  There were more roses of the same shade on the mantel over the fireplace and on the small dining table, and she’d even seen a vase in the bedroom when she put her luggage away. She’d definitely google the meaning of the color later.

  “I can’t wait to start exploring London. You have to be my tour guide this time,” Stella said.

  “Let’s have coffee, and then off we go. But don’t expect too much from me. I haven’t seen much myself.”

 
; They spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Piccadilly Circus, St. James Park, and Buckingham Palace, all within walking distance of David’s apartment, and enjoyed an early dinner at a neighborhood pub before he left for the theater.

  She promised to stay awake until he came home, but when her head dropped for the third time after a relaxing bath and over thirty hours on her feet, she gave in and crawled into the large bed.

  “Goodnight, my love.” David’s arm came around her. His familiar scent comforted her, and she snuggled closer.

  “What time is it?” her voice was heavy with sleep. “I tried to stay awake, but I couldn’t…”

  “Almost midnight. I got home a few minutes ago.” His nose touched her neck. “Mm, lavender.”

  “I used one of the little bath salt packages. I hope you don’t mind,” she mumbled.

  “Of course not. They’re there for you.” His nose continued exploring her neck, and when his hand caressed her arm, she rolled over to reach around him. The four or five hours of sleep had revived her spirits. Or maybe it was the touch of his hands. But her body came alive and was humming with new energy.

  His exploring fingers reached the hem of her short nightgown and stroked the bare skin on her thighs. An electric jolt ran through her. Her body was thrumming in too-long neglected places.

  She needed him. Now.

  She pushed against his shoulder. Wanted to straddle him.

  “Sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have waked you up. Let me hold you,” he said, rolling onto his back but keeping an arm around Stella and pulling her against his side.

  Instead of saying anything, Stella reached inside his boxer shorts. He groaned and she felt him shiver. When she applied more pressure and moved her hand up and down, he said in a raspy voice, “You might want to stop touching me now, love, or it’ll be a while before I let you go back to sleep.”

  Stella shook her head. She didn’t want to sleep, and she didn’t want to talk. She needed to feel him inside her. She squeezed a little harder and circled his moist head with the pad of her thumb.