by Reina Torres
But the last few days he could barely coax a grin out of her when they were alone. Sure, she managed to brighten up when they were around others, but alone with her, he’d been at a loss as to how to lighten her mood.
He paused behind the couple as the attendant at the door gave instructions to find their seats. And his mind drifted back to Jordan, the way she’d tried so hard last night to keep from holding him too tight, and how he’d managed to keep himself from pulling her closer. They’d been at war with each other instead of being a comfort, and it had been his fault.
She’d found the courage, and he knew that was what it was, to tell him how she felt. She’d told him that she wanted him to stay.
And when he’d told her no, told her it was because of his career, his book, he’d seen the shift in her expression. And when she'd offered to go with him, to uproot her entire life just so that they could find out what this ‘thing’ was between them, he’d known what an amazing gift it was. And a moment later, he’d realized exactly how big of a chicken shit he was. Because he’d said no.
“Sir? Excuse me, sir?” He heard the words, but it was the over-loud throat clearing behind him that made him move, holding out the ticket for the attendant even though he knew that he was, “across the bulkhead and to the back of the plane, sir.”
Nodding his thanks, he stepped up and over the threshold of the plane and made his way toward the back.
He didn’t check the number of the seat he was in the last row, the aisle seat. Who had to count for that? He reached up, setting his messenger bag into the overhead compartment. Closing the door, he sat down in his seat and winced. Something dug into his side. His phone.
He dropped his coat on the seat and now he’d be lucky if he hadn’t cracked the stupid device in half. Then again, he wondered as he leaned to the side, lifting his coat out from underneath him, that it might be a good thing. He wouldn’t have to look at the story any more. Wouldn’t have to look at any of the pictures he’d added on it during his time in St. Helena.
There were pictures in there of Jordan, most of them surreptitious candids taken at the museum, in the vineyard, the winery. He’d felt like some rogue CIA agent while he’d done it, a character in one of his novels. A conceit he could laugh at now, but he just didn't have the heart.
But those photos would be all he had left. Even though Jordan said they’d remain friends, he didn’t think they could do it, not when the sound of her voice would only serve to remind him how stupid he was. The upper east side would be bitterly cold when he returned, but he knew his life would be a frigid disappointment.
But just his luck, the screen looked intact. The device powered up just fine when he touched his thumb over the ID screen. It was all par for the course, but it was the incoming phone call that took him by surprise.
MAXWELL HUNT
“Great.” He didn’t want to talk to his editor. But he knew if he didn’t do it now, his editor would leave no less than twenty messages during the first hour of his flight, and continue on from there as if Vance was ignoring him while he drove down the street instead of locked inside a tin can with wings. Besides, his Bluetooth didn’t seem to work at thirty-thousand feet. And there was that pesky no electric devices rule.
Swiping the screen to accept the call, he leaned back into his seat. “Hey there, Max-”
“Don’t you ‘hey there’ me, Mr. Donovan.”
“Oh,” Vance let out a breath, if they were at ‘Mister,’ he was in shit trouble, “okay.”
“I want to see chapters, Vance. I want to see a whole stack of chapters and those two lovely words at the end of those chapters that spells out THE END.”
Vance could see his editor spelling out the words with his outstretched hands as if he was gesturing at a marquee on a theater.
“You’ll have that, Maxwell. I have an epilogue that’s at the edge of my mind. I’ll have it done by the time we touch down in New York.”
He heard the other man grumbling under his breath and didn’t blame Max. He’d been through hell on his behalf. And for that Vance owed him some straight talk. “Thanks, by the way,” he let out a sigh. “I know this was a leap of faith for you, but I think you’ll see that there’s something here… it’s going to be game changing for us both.”
“Right,” he heard a bit of caustic cut in his tone, but also a little lift of hope too, “well, I’ve known you for a long time, Vance. I want you to be right. I really want you to be happy. But if this sucks-”
“Thanks for the support, Max. Look-”
“No, you look, Vance. I’m giving you enough rope here, I’m just hoping to God that you don’t hang yourself with it.”
“You know you’re a real sweetheart, Max.”
“You can call me whatever you like. Just don’t make me regret this.”
The words caught his attention, tugging at his memory. ‘Don’t make me regret this.’ Jordan had asked the same thing of him and he’d promised her she wouldn’t. And then he’d broken that promise.
Movement on the other side of the plane drew his attention. A woman stepped into the aisle around another passenger and he froze. Her coppery hair had caught his eye and he froze, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. Waiting for her to turn around.
And when she did, he felt the air rush right out from his lungs. It wasn’t her.
And why, his mind nagged at him, would it be? He’d made it very clear that he was done with their fling.
The ‘we’re adults’ argument had seemed sound when they’d made it and agreed to enjoy the time with each other.
But somewhere along the way, he’d fallen hard and fallen deep for her. And now he was sitting there, on a plane back to the hustle and bustle of the big city and all he wanted was to curl up with Jordan on her couch and distract her from whatever TV show she was binging on at the moment.
A shout brought him back to reality and Vance looked at the phone in his hands. “Look, Max. I think we should talk about all of this later. I need to go.”
“Whatever,” Max huffed, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, first thing, my office, bring the MS or I’ll have them sharpen the guillotine in the mail room.”
“Sure, sure.” Vance was already pushing out of his seat, stepping into the aisle. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Don’t brush me off, Vance. I helped make you-”
“And if you keep talking,” Vance felt his back teeth grind together, “you’re going to make me late.” With a quick jab of his finger he ended the call. Flicking open the lock on the overhead compartment, Vance removed his messenger bag and picked up his coat.
The announcement system burst to life. “Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen, we’re almost ready to close the door and push away from the gate. Please make sure-”
“Excuse me,” Vance started to move up the aisle, barely avoiding a collision with a man who rose out of his seat to grab something from a bin. “Sorry. Excuse me.” As he passed through the first crew area of the plane he saw the startled looks on the faces of two flight attendants. “Ladies, thank you.”
“Wait!” One of the women darted out after him. “Sir? Where are you going?”
He gave them a half-wave and continued on down the aisle. “I’m leaving.”
“But, sir!” The flight attendant followed him down the aisle. “We’re ready to leave. You have to return to your seat.”
He moved through the curtain into first class. “We haven’t started moving.” He saw two more flight attendants standing in front of the door where they’d boarded the plane and beyond them he saw the open door and the gangway leading back to the gate area. “I need to get off the plane.”
The first woman couldn’t seem to say anything, she just stared back at him.
The woman closest to the door shook her head and gave him a cold look. “No, sir. I’m sorry. You’ll have to remain on board-”
Vance felt a rising panic underneath his seemingly calm exterior. “We�
��re not moving,” he repeated, “the door-”
“Is about to be closed, sir. We’ve already finalized the flight manifest.” She handed her clipboard to the other flight attendant and reached for the handle on the door.
“Nope.” Vance stepped in between and gave her a smile. “I’m really sorry about this. I know you’re thinking that I’m crazy or that I’m just being an asshole.” A quick look back at the other flight attendant that he’d passed earlier, said that he had hit it on the nose. “But I can’t go to New York,” he reached out and took the clipboard from the flight attendant who was holding it.
He started to search for his name on the list when he heard someone mention ‘security.’ He laughed and let out a sigh. “I’m a fool, not a criminal, miss.” He handed the clipboard back to her. “Look, you have to help me. My name is Vance Donovan-”
Jordan pushed open the front door with her shoulder and nearly stumbled inside. Kicking off her heels with a muttered curse she blinked back the tears. “I’m not going to do this.” She dragged in a breath. “I’m not going to do this.”
“Hey, mom!”
She stood bolt upright, shock tightening her features. “Ava!” Dropping her purse on the floor, Jordan pushed the door closed and stared at her daughter. “What are you doing here? I thought you were-”
“Going back to school?” Ava shrugged, her blue hair falling back behind her shoulders. “I will, tomorrow.”
Jordan turned and looked at the calendar on the wall. “Um, you have school tomorrow. As in, your butt… in a seat… taking notes-”
“As in, notes I can get from a friend. Mom,” she rolled her eyes, “I wanted to stay.” She moved to the counter and pulled out a drawer, digging into the odds and ends. “I thought maybe we could grab some goodies, Lexi’s putting together a box and Frankie’s gonna bring it over.” Ava nodded at the pantry holding the corkscrew in her hands. “What bottle do you want me to open?”
“I want you to go to school, Ava.” Jordan felt hot tears on her lashes. “I can handle this.”
Ava moved closer, her steps slow, hesitant. “Mom, don’t be like this.”
“Like what?” Jordan felt her hands tremble. “You’re starting to scare me.”
That set Ava back a step, her forehead wrinkling up. “What? Scare you?”
Jordan laughed at her daughter’s confusion. “All this being nice stuff. I’m beginning to wonder what’s up.” She reached out and touched Ava’s arm. “You’re going to lose your street cred.”
“Mom,” Ava gave her a smile that spoke volumes, “you don’t have to laugh it off.”
“I’m not doing that.” She saw the suspicious look in her daughter’s gaze. “Really, I’m okay.”
“You don’t think I’m actually buying that story, right?” Ava’s lips pursed and she shook her head. “Look. Vance is a jerk, okay? He’s a selfish, obnoxious, fat head and you’re better off without him!”
“Fat head?” It was becoming easier to laugh by the moment. “Where did you hear that?”
Ava studied her for a moment before answering. “It’s in the PC book of insults that are safe to use in front of your mother.”
“I doubt that’s an actual book.” Jordan reached out and pulled her daughter into a hug. “But I think you’re going to make a mint if you actually write it.” Jordan pressed a kiss on Ava’s cheek and was thrilled when she didn’t cringe away from her. “I love you for trying to make me feel better, honey, but I’m really going to be okay.” With a sigh, she took Ava by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
Ava shrugged. “It’s okay, I like to babysit.” Her shoulders shrugged a little. “And maybe you’ll look the other way when I pour myself a glass of wine.”
That earned Ava another hug, this one tighter than the other.
“You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”
Ava tensed in her arms and Jordan pulled back. “I’m only joking, I-” She tried to catch Ava’s eye but her daughter was staring out the window. “What-”
“No freakin’ way!”
Ava pulled out of her arms and the movement turned Jordan around.
There was a cab in the driveway parked behind her car, the tail end sticking out into the road, but it wasn’t the bad parking job that had her attention, it was the man standing beside the driver’s window that made her breathless. “Vance.”
And then she was standing alone in the front room of her house, the front door banging open against the wall. She watched as Ava pulled open the gate in the fence and jumped into Vance’s arms as the cab pulled away.
Jordan made it into the doorway before she sagged against the frame, her hand held over her heart. She wanted to go outside, but she wasn’t sure her feet would carry her that far. She watched as Ava slugged Vance on the shoulder and how he laughed as he winced, covering his arm with his opposite hand. She hung her head, relief flooding through her. But it was the rush of questions that filled her head that made her look back up again and see Vance making his way through the opening in the fence. Behind him, Ava gave her mom a wave before she turned and walked down the street with a swagger in her walk.
Vance pulled off his sunglasses and made his way up the steps to her front door. “Ava thought we could use a little time by ourselves.” He tucked his sunglasses into his suit pocket. “Maybe she thought you wouldn’t want a witness when you kick my ass to the curb.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If I wanted to, I wouldn’t care about a witness.” She enjoyed his smile as he looked back at her, his eyes snapping with humor. "I think you missed your flight.”
“I walked off the plane.” He reached out a hand and trailed his fingertips down her forearm.
“What about your suitcase?” She dragged in a breath to keep conscious.
Vance shrugged. “On its way to New York.” He brushed the inside of her wrist.
Jordan’s eyes closed on a sigh, her body leaning toward him and into his touch. “That’s not fair.” She opened her eyes as his fingers tickled her palm. “You know my weakness,” her words were a plea. “Don’t tease me like this.”
“Tease you?” He linked their fingers together and stepped closer to her. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You’re going to leave, just not right now? You’ll figure out this isn't what you want. You have to go back to New York for your book. You live there, Vance.”
“For now.” He shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean forever.”
“Vance, your whole life is in New York-”
“Wow,” he laughed, a deep shoulder shaking chuckle, “you sound like Max. Thank goodness you don’t look like him.”
“Be serious-”
“Okay, now, stop it,” he shuddered. “I’ve been lying to myself for a while,” he told her and was surprised that the ache in his chest eased up. “I live in New York, sure. But I don’t like it. I sit at home and write. I go out for events, but there’s nothing keeping me there. What I want out of life isn’t there.”
She drew in a long breath, waiting to see if he would say more. He’d already said so much, but she wanted more. She wanted so much more.
“When we met, you held my feet to the fire. You didn’t let me crawl back into my routine. Talking to you all of these months, you challenged me and then I started challenging myself. I decided to write what I wanted. And I decided to be the man I wanted to be. The kind of man who took a chance. I just don’t think I could admit it to myself at first. And then,” he leaned his head against the open door as he looked at her, “and then when you said you wanted the same thing, I let myself believe that I could have it all. New York and you, but I didn’t count on the fact that you’d have to leave everything you loved to be with me and I didn’t want to be the reason you hated your life and so I said it was over and I was going home.”
“And now,” she gave him a hesitant smile, “you’re back.” She squeezed his hand. “Does that mean
that you’re thinking of staying?”
Vance leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, a second kiss parted her lips on a moan. “I’ve heard St. Helena is the best place to live.”
Her eyes opened again and she nodded. “I think it’s pretty fantastic.”
“Then I’ll give it a chance.” Vance leaned back with a smile. “If you’re ready to take a chance with me.”
She smiled back at him. “More than ready.” She let all the tension in her body go and felt another kind of tension start to build in her middle. Running the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip she saw his eyes darken slightly. “You know,” she heard the breathy tone of her voice and decided she didn’t care, “I left early this morning because if I didn’t, I was pretty sure I was going to try to get you to stay by keeping you busy.”
“Busy?” Vance’s voice was barely a whisper, but she heard him clearly from where she was standing. “Just what did you have planned?”
“Planned?” She rolled her shoulders back a little and watched his eyes travel down exactly where she was hoping they would. “I was going to use my feminine wiles and bend your will to my own nefarious wishes.”
He dragged his gaze back up to her face, his eyes darkening even more. “Well, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking,” his grin turned into more of a growl, “then I'm easy pickings for a woman of your… talents.”
She blew out a breath. “You certainly are good for my ego, Mr. Donovan.”
“You're good for me, Jordan. Too good, I think. But I'm willing to work hard to be worthy of you.”
She took hold of the lapels of his suit jacket and pushed them off of his shoulders. “Don't worry,” she looked him over from head to toe, “I’ll put you to work.”
The look in his eyes said he was up for the challenge, and the hard press of his body as he leaned against her for a kiss said he was up for a lot of things.