Hallowed Ground (Flight & Glory #4)

by Rebecca Yarros

  I twisted and pulled my bag through the gap in the front seats. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then risked an indecent exposure, changing into a clean tank top and semi-wrinkled button-down. The shorts would have to stay. There was zero chance of me stripping down to that level in the parking lot.

  Unless Josh wants—

  Nope. Not going there.

  I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, popped on a coat of mascara and some lip gloss, and declared myself done. Without a shower and a straight-iron, this was as good as I was getting.

  The stands were full as I walked into the hangar. I passed the little girls in red-white-and-blue tutus, and the little boys in camo outfits as they danced to the band, making my way up the bleachers until I found an empty seat near the top.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I swiped it to answer when I saw Mom’s picture. “Mom?”

  “Hey, honey! I’m so sorry I didn’t answer earlier. I was in my yoga class. Where are you?”

  There was something about hearing her voice that crumbled my composure. “I’m at Fort Campbell. I came home a couple of days early, and now Paisley is in labor, and I’m here picking up Josh.”

  “Well, that sounds like quite the homecoming for both of you,” she said. I plugged my other ear, trying to hear her better.

  I looked around at all the other women in their carefully chosen outfits, their glittery signs, and perfectly done hair. “Mom, I don’t have anything for him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I came straight from the airport. I don’t have a sign, or my hair done, and I’ve been in the same panties since Turkey!”

  A few heads snapped in my direction, and I glared them down.

  “Ember.”

  “This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I was going to have the house perfect, and his Jeep detailed, and a big sparkly, funny sign. My makeup was going to be done, and my legs definitely shaved, and a cute outfit, too. Instead I’ve been traveling for almost sixteen hours, I don’t really know where our relationship stands, and I don’t have anything!” Oh God, I was going to be sick.

  “Do you have arms?”

  “What?” I damn near shouted. “Yes, I have arms.”

  “Then open them. That’s all he needs.”

  “Mom. It’s so much more complicated than that.”

  “It’s not. December, nothing in the army is perfect. No amount of planning can make a homecoming perfect, and nothing will go as planned. He’s not going to care about any of those details you’re stressed over. He’s only going to care that you’re sitting in those bleachers ready to welcome him home. You are his perfect homecoming.”

  “What if he doesn’t want me here?” Giving voice to my worst fear zapped some of my last caffeine-generated energy, and my shoulders drooped.

  “He does.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because that boy—that man—he loves you in a way that a deployment doesn’t kill. I know you have a lot to discuss, and I’m not suggesting you forget the way he left, but don’t give up, either, Ember. You and I have the same taste in hardheaded men, so you hold on tight with both hands and fight like hell. And Ember…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember every single thing about this moment. There’s nothing like it.”

  The crowd came to their feet with a deafening roar as the hangar doors opened. “I love you, Mom,” I yelled into the phone above the noise.

  “I love you, baby. Go get your man.”

  We hung up as more than two hundred soldiers marched in through both open hangar doors. The air electrified. My heart slammed against my ribs, and my head started to spin. There were too many emotions fighting for supremacy—my excitement at seeing him, my anger over the way he’d left, my confusion over where we stood—but they were all eclipsed by the stark relief of knowing he’d made it home alive. Tears stung my eyes, as if my body simply couldn’t contain my feelings and needed the outlet.

  They came to a stop, and my eyes raked over the lines of soldiers as the Commanding General welcomed the troops home. I didn’t have to look far.

  Josh stood at attention in the first row, faced forward. Butterflies attacked my stomach, and everything lower clenched. He was gorgeous. My soul screamed out for his as if it were an actual physical being, desperate to fly forward and get him into my arms. He looked tired and worn but accomplished—haggard but whole, yet empty all at the same time.

  I kept locked on to him as the general dismissed the troops and the stands emptied in a rush to the hangar floor. Then I carefully walked down, telling my rebellious body that I couldn’t simply fling myself into his arms. He looked side to side as he walked forward, no doubt searching for Jagger, until he’d reached the bottom of the stands just before I did.

  “Josh.” His name came out in a breathless whisper.

  His eyes met mine, his jaw dropping slightly. “Ember?”

  I took the final step, until I was on the first bleacher, just at his eye-height. “Hi.”

  “How…? You’re not supposed to be back for a few more days.”

  There was no regret in that tone, right? Damn it, I wanted to throw my arms around his neck. I wanted to kiss him stupid, and then smack him hard for what he’d done to me. I wanted us, complicated futures and all. “I came home early, like you, I guess.” Moron, he knows that. “Are you mad?”

  “Hell no,” he said, his gaze darting to my lips.

  He still wants you.

  Unable to control my hand, I cupped the side of his cheek, thrilling at the scratch of his stubble against my palm. A giant sigh of relief escaped me, and my eyes slid shut. When I opened them, he was staring at me with a cross between want and trepidation. “Can I hug you? I mean, I don’t know what we’re—”

  My words were muffled into his shoulder as he pulled me off the bleachers and into his arms. One of his hands wrapped around my back while the other tangled into my hair, pulling my pins loose. His scent enveloped me, and I tilted my head to nudge my nose against his neck, breathing in home. Nothing ever felt as good, as right as when he held me.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he muttered against my hair.

  That reminded me… “Jagger—” I shook my head and pulled back from the safety of Josh’s warmth, trying to remember the important stuff. “Paisley is in labor. He sent me.”

  Josh straightened immediately. “I’ll get my bag, and let’s go.”

  He took my hand and led me through the crowd to where their bags had been lined up. Two heavy bags later, we were marching to the car. I clicked the unlock button, and the taillights on the SUV I’d rented flashed.

  “Uh. New car?” he asked, loading his bags into the back after the hatch raised.

  “No,” I said. “I rented it at the airport.”

  “When?”

  “Oh, a couple of hours ago when I landed.” I scrunched my nose. “I’m sorry I’m not more dressed up. I kind of traveled halfway around the world today.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I’d be a hypocrite if I minded, since we’re in the same situation.”

  “Right,” I said with an awkward head nod. We stared at each other for a few seconds, our eyes speaking volumes that our lips couldn’t yet say. Then I thrust the keys in his direction. “Think you can keep it at the speed limit?”

  He gave me a cocky grin that sent heat spiraling through me. As if my body had sensed his nearness, my sex-drive clicked on, more than ready to make up for lost time and pretty damn uncaring that our relationship was in a gray area. Down girl.

  “Let’s go meet Mini-Bateman,” he said and walked me around to my side. He opened the door for me and I climbed in, but before I could pull on the seat belt, he reached across and clicked it in himself like I was twenty again. “I like you safe,” he murmured against my forehead as he slid out of the car to get behind the wheel. My chest tightened and fought my need to kiss the hell out of him.

  He was true to his word
and kept it at the speed limit as we made our way to the hospital. My hand felt naked without being able to take his, so I gripped the edge of my seat instead. We exchanged sideways glances, until the heavy awkwardness was too much for me. Since when did we ever act like this around each other?

  “How are you?” I asked.

  His grip shifted on the wheel, his knuckles whitening. “Okay. Better, I guess, in some areas.” His eyes cut toward me. “Worse in others. What about you?”

  “You hit the nail on the head,” I said softly.

  We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Josh parked the car. Neither of us said a word as we walked inside the massive building and headed for the maternity ward. The magnetic pull between us was almost too much for me to take as we rode the elevator. Each floor that lit on the display seemed to metaphor my level of need for him. We’re at a four. Nope, make that a five, edging toward six, seven… God, I was about to become a movie cliché and jump him against the wall.

  Would that be so bad?

  The doors dinged open, saving me from the potential embarrassment of a rejection. This was definitely new territory. Even when we’d started dating, I’d never really been afraid of Josh rejecting me. He’d always been so open, honest with his feelings and his intent when it came to me.

  “Paisley Bateman?” I asked the desk nurse.

  “Room 804,” she said after checking the board behind her. “But she’s pushing, so there’s a waiting room at the end of the hall, there.”

  Holy cow. Any minute now they would be parents. Josh and I walked, nearly touching but not quite, our steps evenly matched. “I still can’t believe they’re having a baby,” I said.

  “Yeah. Most days I feel like we’re still in college, arguing over who’s ordering the keg, and now he’s a dad.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the grin on Josh’s face. His smile lit him up in a way that had always drawn me to him. “True,” I said. “And I honestly never thought Jagger would be first, you know?”

  He looked over at me, radiating an intensity that stole my breath. “I always figured we would be.”

  “Me, too,” I confessed in a whisper as we came to a standstill in the middle of the hallway. The moment we stood there, held together by nothing more than our eyes, seemed like an eternity. The long nights I’d spent in Ephesus, staring up at the brilliant stars, wondering if he was looking, too, or if he was safe, all came rushing back with a feeling of such longing that my heart leaped into my throat.

  “December?” he asked softly, concern softening his face.

  “This is hard,” I admitted.

  “What is?” His voice dropped as he stepped forward slightly, until I had to crane my neck to keep eye contact.

  “Standing here, within inches of you, aching to kiss you, and not knowing if I’m even allowed to. Not knowing what we are.”

  His jaw flexed and he looked away, fighting a battle I couldn’t see. Then he glanced over my shoulder, sidestepped, and walked right past me, grabbing my hand to pull me behind him. He opened the door to the stairwell, and I stumbled through after him. “Josh, what are we doing?”

  He pushed my back against the brick wall, cradling my head in his hand, and then took my mouth. Yes, yes, YES. He felt like heaven and tasted like…Josh. Home. I rose up on my toes, kissing him back with two months of pent-up want, anger, and love. His lips moved perfectly against mine, our tongues intertwined, my body arching naturally toward his.

  This was Josh, the man I loved, the only person I wanted to spend my life kissing. His hand moved from my waist to my ass, lifting me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind him, and rolled my hips into him.

  “God, I fucking missed you. Every second of every day.” His voice was low, gravelly, and so incredibly sexy. He trailed kisses down my neck until I gasped. Then I lifted his head back to mine so I could kiss him again. I sucked on his lower lip, gently tugging it between my teeth, and he groaned.

  I didn’t care that we were in the stairwell of a hospital, my body was screaming for him, need vibrating through every one of my nerve endings. “Josh,” I moaned softly when his hand rose to cup my breast over my shirt.

  The door beside us opened.

  He dropped his hand and rested his forehead against my shoulder, sucking in deep breaths as two nurses walked past, the door shielding us from their vision as they headed down the stairs.

  I tried to calm my racing pulse, but Josh slowly lowered my feet to the floor, rubbing that delicious body against mine, and my breath hitched again. He stepped back, running a hand over his hair, his eyes darting back to my mouth.

  My tongue skimmed my lower lip, and he closed his eyes with a low rumble from his throat. “We should go sit in the waiting room, and…you know.”

  “Wait?” I supplied.

  He nodded and took my hand in his without another word, walking us back into the hall and down to the waiting room. We were the only ones there, and he took the loveseat, tugging me down next to him. He wrapped his arm around me, and my head settled in the pocket of his shoulder, where it fit perfectly because we fit perfectly. We always had.

  I nearly dislocated my jaw with a yawn. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.”

  “Sleep,” he ordered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And December?”

  “Hmm?” I asked, his heartbeat already lulling me to give in to the bone-deep exhaustion that traveling and jetlag was wreaking on me.

  “You can always kiss me. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of an insane fight, or in a house full of priests. There is never a moment I don’t want you.”

  With another kiss on my forehead, I drifted off, only to be awoken what felt like moments later.

  “Wake up, welcome home, and come meet my son!” Jagger beamed, standing above us with the biggest grin I’d ever seen.

  I blinked the sleep from my eyes and willed my brain to focus. “He’s here?”

  Jagger nodded. “He is. Seven pounds, nine ounces, and utterly perfect.”

  “Congratulations,” Josh said, his voice husky from sleep.

  We untangled from each other and stood, Jagger hugging both of us. “I’m so glad you guys made it. Seriously.” He turned to Josh. “And look at you! Not dead, or blown up, or anything!”

  “Nice,” Josh said with a sarcastic smile. “Take us to this son of yours, who no doubt inherited his perfection from his mother.”

  Jagger’s grin didn’t diminish. “Damn straight.”

  I glanced down at my phone and noted that I’d slept a little over an hour. Josh was still stretching his neck as we walked.

  We opened the door gently to see Paisley, her hair in a messy bun, holding a tiny bundle, and my heart flew. “Oh. My. Perfect!” I squealed softly as I tiptoed to the bed where she sat.

  “He took his sweet time,” she drawled, her smile radiant. She looked up at me, her eyes bright despite the ungodly hour. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “I’m glad I made it. How are you feeling?”

  She winced. “Like I just had a baby.” She laughed. “Do you want to hold him?”

  “Oh, no. You enjoy him,” I said, trying to be sensitive. Hell yes, I wanted to hold him. And snuggle him, and bask in everything that was new and glorious about the world.

  She lifted the tiny baby to me, his face peeking out of the blankets. “Oh, we’ve had about an hour. And now might be the only time you get. My mother arrives tomorrow.”

  “Well, in that case!” I ran to wash my hands and then held them out. His weight was slight as he slid into my arms, his tiny head cushioned at my elbow. I moved over to the rocking chair and sat carefully. I heard them talking in the background, but they faded into a blur of noise as I studied the tiny life I held.

  He was just as Jagger had said, utterly perfect. Paisley’s button nose and Jagger’s eyes looked back at me. I lifted his exposed hand, marveling at the tiny fingers, his exquisite little nails. “What’s his name?” I a
sked without looking up.

  “Peyton,” she answered, her voice catching.

  I looked over to where she sat, her eyes sparkling. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Peyton Carter Bateman,” Jagger finished for her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

  Tears pricked at my eyes as I looked at Peyton. “It’s a big name to live up to, little man, but I think you’ll be up to the task. You’re a good one, I can tell.” I brushed my thumb gently over his soft little cheek. He was the culmination of everything Jagger and Paisley had fought for—a family.

  “Can I?” Josh asked, wiping his hands dry.

  “Of course,” I said, and transferred Peyton over.

  He cradled the baby tenderly, tucking the blanket to cover any rough parts of his uniform. His face was rapt with wonder as he took in everything about Peyton. A low ache settled in my stomach. This was what I wanted.

  I wanted to see Josh holding our baby, marveling over what our love had created, what our family would become. I wanted our children to have his protection, his love, his sense of duty and honor, and just enough of his recklessness to be fierce. My hands covered my mouth as I tried to contain the tears of absolute joy that threatened to spill.

  “Yeah, I was right. He’s gorgeous like his mom,” Josh said with a grin toward Paisley.

  “No arguments here,” Jagger answered, wrapping his arms around his very exhausted wife.

  Josh looked up at me, and time stood still. I saw it there in his eyes—our future, our possibilities, our family. I saw little boys at hockey practice and little girls with their noses in books. Then I pictured pink skates and brainy boys. Every which way I imagined our life, it was perfect, because we had a love that was rare, precious, and worth fighting for. Worth sacrificing for.

  There was no way I was going back to Turkey, not when we were so close to having everything we wanted together. I needed to be here, at least until we had our issues worked out. There would be other opportunities, other digs. There was only one Josh.

  He echoed my smile, but as he glanced down where my fingers traced Peyton’s arm under the blanket, his expression fell, first hurt, then hardened the longer he looked at my hand. When he looked back up at me, there was a distance I couldn’t explain and instantly feared. What the hell had just happened?