Sometime during the night they’d moved to Dylan’s bed for round two. And still she couldn’t get enough of him, but the man needed to rest. He had a broken ankle; though, she certainly couldn’t tell by the way he’d made love to her.
She kept her eyes closed and pretended to sleep when Dylan stirred. He kissed her forehead and then whispered, “Molly?”
She couldn’t avoid it any longer. Sooner or later she’d have to wake up and face reality. “Hmm?”
“Would you get me some water, baby? I need to take my meds.”
Baby. “Of course.” Molly climbed out of bed and filled a glass with tap water from the bathroom.
“I could get used to this kind of service,” Dylan said with a sleepy smile as he reached for the bottle of pills on the nightstand.
“Are you hurting?” She climbed back into bed. He’d probably given that ankle a workout when he’d insisted on being on top.
“A little, but boy was it worth it. Want to go for round three?” He smiled again, and Molly thought she would cry because she loved him so much.
“Oh, Dylan.” She buried her face in his neck.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” His arms came around her, squeezing her tight.
She didn’t want to say the words and freak him out, but she had to do it. She chose to whisper them in his ear, maybe to soften the shock. “I just love you so much.”
“I know,” Dylan said, not sounding at all surprised. “I love you too, baby.”
Molly couldn’t stop the sob that ripped out of her throat. “I never thought you’d love me again.”
“I never stopped, Molly. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.” He kissed her shoulder. “We still have a lot to talk about. A lot of trust to rebuild. But I’m all-in. I’m not giving up on us.”
Sierra woke up then with her usual morning cry. Molly disentangled from Dylan and jumped out of bed. “I’ve got to get her, and all my clothes are by the couch. I’m naked.”
“I noticed.” Dylan laughed. “Just grab my bathrobe. This is going to happen a lot from now on, and she’ll get used to it.”
Molly threw the robe on and fairly skipped to Sierra’s room, Dylan’s words ringing in her ears and in her heart. This is going to happen a lot from now on.
When Molly opened the door to her bedroom, Sierra once again had one leg over the railing and a big smile on her face. She turned her little face to Molly and said, “Mommy!”
And nothing on earth had ever felt so right.
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Emily sat across from Rachel at The Drip, her brand-new shiny license gleaming.
“I can’t believe it. You did it, Emily. Just you. You’re the first Emily Parker to get her pilot’s license.”
“I can’t believe it myself.”
For the past few weeks she’d been on a journey, but if someone had told her she’d get her license and fall in love with the pilot in the process, she’d have asked them what they were smoking. She’d been done with men, back then, unaware that the good ones were still walking around, oblivious. Of course, her timing couldn’t have been worse. Falling in love with a man who had plans to get out of town as soon as he could.
Since the day at Builder’s Emporium, she hadn’t seen or talked to Stone. Seven long days and two hours. Every day she vacillated between hating him for leaving and longing for him to stay. But they’d already said goodbye and she couldn’t go through that again. All the paint samples were still tacked up on her bedroom wall. Not one of the colors were right, and she didn’t want to go back to the Emporium and risk seeing him again. She hadn’t been back to the airport, either, since she’d obtained her sport’s pilot license.
The door jingled and Emily did a double take because the man who’d walked in The Drip was dressed in a black tux and he looked an awful lot like Greg. Oh. No.
“Emily, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Greg said, coming up to their booth.
Rachel spit out her organic decaffeinated green tea. “What the hell?”
Emily couldn’t speak. Greg, dressed for his wedding day. Here.
“I can’t go through with it. Look at this monkey suit. She made me wear this—to a courthouse wedding! What kind of a woman would do that?” Greg took a handkerchief out and wiped his sweaty brow. What a tiny, weak little man he’d turned out to be. This was the man who was supposed to take care of her, provide her a lifetime of security and give her two-point-five children?
“You mean the mother of your child? You mean that kind of woman?” Emily finally said.
Greg had the nerve to sit next to Emily. “Please, talk me through this. I need you to tell me why this is a good idea.”
“Because if you stay here, I’m going to kill you?” Rachel said quietly, without the slightest hint of a smile on her face.
“Get out of my booth! Now!” Emily yelled.
Greg jumped up. “Aren’t you going to help me? I thought you wanted Nika and me to get married.”
Emily rose, too. “Hear me out. I don’t care what you do, where you do it or who you do it with! You need to leave me alone and go live your life with Nika, or whoever you want. Send me a Christmas card but never talk to me again. I mean it, Greg!”
“All right. Relax. Wow, why do you have to be such a bitch?” Greg asked, laughing a little and turning to the other customers for support. “Right?”
Like a particularly gory horror movie, suddenly all Emily could see was red. Red everywhere she looked. Her red hands curled into fists. And as though it now worked independently of the rest of her body, a red right fist rose up and shoved its way into Greg’s red stomach. Hard.
“Ooosh,” Greg said and buckled over.
“Now I’m a bitch.”
It would seem all eyes were now on Emily as Greg clutched his stomach.
“Why did you do that?”
Emily stared at her fist. “I don’t know, but it felt damn good!”
Greg slinked out of the shop, muttering to himself. Something about angry ex-fiancées and his horrible lot in life.
Men! They were forever trying to ruin her life. No more.
Emily turned to look at her fellow customers, lifting a fist. “Anyone else?”
One woman ran out the door with her coffees and the rest of the patrons looked away and went back to their coffee, tea and sandwiches. Emily sat back down next to Rachel, holding her right fist in her left hand.
“You might have to take me to the hospital. I think I broke something.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“HERE’S YOUR COFFEE. I’m not going back there. Someone scared the crap out of me.” Sarah put the foam cup down on the kitchen table.
“Who was it?” Stone looked up from where he was installing the new granite countertop Sarah had ordered. Now he would need the name and description of this person. Sarah might be a pain in the ass, but she was still his sister, and as such, anyone who threatened her would meet with his wrath.
“It was this weird girl. I thought I was watching The Runaway Bride, except it was a Runaway Groom. Anyway, the girl who hit him—”
“Hit him?”
“I’m getting ahead of myself. I know you like a short story, so this weird girl punched the guy in the tux right in the stomach. Then, if you can believe this, she looked around and asked if anyone else would like a punch. I ran out of there.”
Guy in a tux? “Wait a minute. What did this girl look like?”
“Blond.”
“And what else?”
“What am I, your dating service? I thought you liked a short story.”
“Not in this case.” He needed details. What he wanted was an Emily fix since he’d been deprived of her for seven lousy, excruciating days.
“If you m
ust know, she was my basic nightmare. Freaking gorgeous, big tits, Cupid bow lips. If it wasn’t for the fact I’m as straight as an arrow, I’d want to date her.”
“And she punched the guy in the tux?”
Sarah laughed. “Actually, it was pretty funny. She yelled at him before she punched him out. Said something like, ‘Get out of here, I hate your guts. Don’t call me.’ You know. The usual breakup drama.”
“Huh.” Sarah had either described Emily, or her dead ringer. He didn’t say another word but went back to the counter.
But Sarah was gifted with every woman’s ability to talk a subject to death, plus she was apparently a bit psychic. “Oh, I get it. The girl. She’s your ex. Am I right?”
“Why would you say that?” he asked, avoiding her gaze. For all he knew, his feelings were buried somewhere in his pupils.
“You men are so easy. Give me something difficult for a change.”
Just his damned luck his sister had once been a forensic sketch artist for the police department. She claimed she had facial expressions down to a science.
“Matt will be over soon. You can read him. Leave me alone.”
“I’ll just go back to my cataloging.”
“You do that.” Sarah had taken it upon herself to document the entire history of the Mcallisters in photos. She had several albums to go through, and she kept finding more treasures in Dad’s junk.
Stone reached down to the second tool belt he’d attached to Winston, who lay beside him. Helping.
The poor dog was depressed. Stone had tried everything—new brand of dog food (one with vitamins), daily walks, even letting Winston sleep at the edge of Stone’s bed. He had to face the fact nothing was going to fix Winston but Emily, and anyone with half a brain would know that.
Sarah kept asking if it was normal for a dog to lie around like he’d been hit by a car. Stone didn’t have an answer to that, except that somewhere along the way, Winston had begun to read Stone’s thoughts, like he’d once read Dad’s. And why wouldn’t he lie around like an accident victim when Stone felt like he’d been hit by a truck?
One thing, at least, had gone right. For the past few days, he and Sarah had developed an easy kind of truce. The ability to sort of take up where they’d left off without much talking about how they got there. Then the blame wouldn’t have to be laid at anyone’s feet. It was the only way he could do it, and she finally seemed to appreciate that fact.
He’d spoken to his mother on the phone for the first time since Dad’s death. She’d cried, which had made him cringe, but then she’d regained her composure and the conversation had taken an easier and less emotional cadence. She planned to visit Sarah for a couple of weeks. It wouldn’t be easy, and wouldn’t happen overnight, but somehow, between his mother and sister, he’d figure out Women Code. He was almost sure of it.
The problem was, he didn’t think he could wait that long.
He was either going to Germany next week or leaving the air force.
Six months ago this would have been a no-brainer. Not so much any longer, because of Emily.
It was clear he loved her; though, he almost couldn’t admit it to himself. He loved the way she’d tried to control everything but then finally let go for him. Took a risk even if it meant she’d be hurt again. That he’d been the one to do the hurting killed him.
A few minutes later, Matt was at the door as expected. “Hey. Sarah here?”
“You know she is.” Stone was going to try like hell and continue to ignore the fact that he often caught Matt lingering a little too long on Sarah while she did the same to him.
None of his business.
Matt followed him into the kitchen. “Heard you got your orders.”
“You heard right.”
“Does Emily know?”
“She knows.” He went back to measuring.
“How’d that go over?”
Stone slid him a you-must-be-a-dumb-ass look. “About as well as you’d expect.”
“Yeah. Got some news of my own,” Matt said, then waited a beat. “I’m not going back.”
“What the hell?” Stone had first met Matt in the air force, unaware until later that they each shared a connection to the small town of Fortune.
And if there was anyone that epitomized loyalty to the air force besides Stone, it had to be Matt Conner.
“You heard me. I’m out. Hunter is growing up, and I’m tired of seeing him once a year. This last time was two years. I hardly recognize the kid.”
Unlike most of the men in their wing, Matt already had a son. He’d been practically a child himself when he’d become a father and joined up to help provide for the kid. He’d never married his now ex-girlfriend and by all accounts they still had a strained relationship.
“So that’s it? You’re out? Just like that?
“Just like that.”
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing. Maybe some things are more important than the air force. At least for me.” Matt lifted a shoulder.
“So what are you going to do with yourself?”
“What else? Get hired on somewhere as a pilot. It’s what I do.”
Some things are more important than the air force.
Not like Stone hadn’t realized the same thing. His father had been more important. Stone hadn’t thought twice when he’d been needed here in Fortune. But he wasn’t needed here any longer.
Or was he?
“I could get work teaching at the aviation school, though I’d rather work for the new charter service. Truth is I’d rather work for you if you hadn’t sold the place.”
“Haven’t yet. We got stuck in some airport regulations paperwork but it should happen soon.”
“Before you leave?”
“Sarah said she’d taken care of the particulars. Anything gets held up, she’ll take care of it.”
Matt nodded. “Sorry to leave you, man, but you’ve still got Levi.”
“Yeah.”
It wouldn’t be the same, of course. But maybe nothing would ever be the same. Was he seriously going to tell himself that he’d come back for Dad, stayed as long as he had needed to for Dad, but wouldn’t do the same for Sarah? For Matt.
For Emily.
Face it, genius. She’s your heart.
“Hey, ground control,” Matt said. “Did you hear a word I said?”
“Nothing wrong with my hearing. You’re leaving the AF. Got it.”
“I said, ‘Dumb-ass, are you seriously just going to leave Emily?’ The best thing that ever happened to a fool like you?”
“Tell me what you really think. Don’t hold back.”
By the look in Matt’s eyes, Stone was about to get an earful. “You got it. Truth is I’ve never seen a woman play hockey puck with your brain before this. You always had the upper hand. Easier to walk away. Believe me, I get it. But face it, this is different.”
“I always planned to go back.”
“But you didn’t plan on her.”
“Hell, no.”
Matt chuckled. “Serves you right.”
“Sarah just saw her at The Drip. Apparently Emily punched her ex and scared Sarah out of the shop. Emily will be all right without me. I’m sure of it.”
“Not my point. Will you be all right without her?”
He had no freaking clue at the moment because the truth was he hadn’t been all right for a long time. Not since Dad died. Not since Sarah called him out on everything he’d done wrong, and not since Emily walked into his life and asked him to follow her ridiculous rules for one night.
God, he was a certified idiot.
If he wanted her, he’d have to go to her. He’d have to eat crow. Grovel like he never had before. He’d have to put his poor pitiful heart in he
r hands. There was no plan and no way to know if she’d come with him to Germany and leave this little town. Or whether any of her family would survive without her.
Whether he could survive without the air force: his home, his life.
But he had to go to her anyway because right now, the only thing that made any sense to him was getting his woman back. Now. “Tell Sarah I’m going out for a while.”
But she was standing in the hallway and heard every word. “I’ll alert the media.”
Good to know the smart-ass thing ran in the family.
* * *
THE SWELLING IN Emily’s hand was just starting to come back down, thanks to the ice pack the barista had given her. Her hand might hurt like hell, but her spirits were soaring. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You and me both. In a million years I didn’t see it coming. Nice right hook, by the way,” Rachel said.
“Stone taught me.” Emily turned her hand over, inspecting for damage.
Rachel made a face. “Okay, I won’t even ask, but let’s just say I’m curious.”
“Are you sure I don’t need an X-ray?”
“I’m sure. Though, we might want one of your head.”
“My head?”
“Why won’t you admit you love that man? Why be so hardheaded about it? So what if it wasn’t part of the plan. It happened.”
“Fine, I admit it. You happy now?”
“But he’s still here,” Rachel said. “Why not enjoy what little time you two have left?”
“I’m sorry, but I can only say goodbye to him once. And I already did. Face it, I tried to be a wild woman, but I can’t do it. I fell in love.”
Rachel leaned forward. “Em, it’s okay to be who you are. A nice girl. It’s no crime, last time I checked. I only wanted to see you grow a backbone. And I believe your fist just proved you did.”
“It did, didn’t it?” Emily couldn’t help but smile. Her fist had certainly done some talking today. “Sometimes words are just not enough.”
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