The Crow Brothers: JET - TULSA - RIVERS - RIDGE

by Scott, S. L.

  Releasing a long breath like the weight of my troubles is lifting, I say, “So am I.”

  She slides against her new red Tesla and smiles. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  “Watch this.” The back doors go up, and my mouth drops open. “They’re called Falcon Wings. Great for now. I told Rivers that when we have children, we have to get something more kid friendly.”

  “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” We walk to the back to load the suitcase in. “About time too.”

  “Are you excited to see Ridge?”

  “So excited. I should have never left.”

  “At least now you know.”

  “Yep. The only regret I have is going.”

  “But now you’re back.” She hugs me just as my phone rings.

  My eyes go wide, and I giggle, too happy to contain it. “It’s him.” Answering it, I try to keep my voice even so I don’t ruin the surprise. “Hello?”

  Ridge: Ten Minutes Prior

  Standing on a stoop in the middle of London, surely I must have heard wrong, so I ask again, “What do you mean she’s not here?”

  “I’ll come down.”

  Her friend, Darcy, comes down in a dash. The door to her building swings open, and I’m greeted with a confused look on her face. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here for Meadow. Good to see you too.”

  “I’m sorry. Hi, Ridge. I’m just so confused.”

  “So am I. Want to fill me in?”

  “Meadow’s not here.”

  “So you said. Where is she? Do you mind if I wait for her to come back? I want to surprise her.”

  Darcy opens the door. “Come in, but I think it’s you who’s going to be surprised.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’ll see.” When we reach her flat, she opens the door and lets me in. As soon as I drop my bag, she says, “I think you should call her.”

  “Okay,” I reply skeptically. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I find her number as Darcy grabs two beers from the fridge.

  While I wait for the call to go through, she hands one to me. “You’re going to need this.”

  “Hello?” Hearing her sweet voice calms the nerves that had become raw while she’s been gone.

  “Hey.” Smooth. Real smooth.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing right now?”

  She giggles. “Nothing. What about you?”

  “Um . . .” I look at Darcy and then to the bottle in my hand. “Having a beer. Are you home?”

  “Ummmm . . . Yes. I’m finally home.”

  Furrowing my brow, now I’m thoroughly confused. I glance at Darcy, who shrugs. Holding the phone against my chest, I ask Darcy, “She’s not here, is she?”

  “No.”

  I put the phone back to my ear just as she asks, “Where are you? At the hotel?”

  “No. I’m in London.”

  “What?” She yells so loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “What do you mean you’re in London? You can’t be in London.”

  “Why not?” My eyes find Darcy again who’s shaking her head. With my head held down, I say, “Shit. Let me guess. You’re in LA?”

  “Yes. I’m in LA and driving to see you.”

  I move to the couch and sit down. “Unfortunately, you’re not going to find me unless you’re about to walk through the door of your apartment.”

  “You’re in my flat? With Darcy? Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “I just arrived.”

  Her voice trembles. “So did I. Oh Dave, what are we doing when we can’t even reunion right?”

  No. No. “Don’t cry. We both just had the same idea.”

  “At the same time.” She sucks in a jagged breath, but then her tone steadies. “You’re right. If that’s not a sign that we’re meant to be, I don’t know what is. Wait, you were coming for me, right?”

  “I was,” I reply with a quiet laugh. “I came to tell you that I love you—”

  “And I can’t live without you.” She sounds happy. I’ll take that over sad any damn day of the week. “You flew all the way there for me?”

  “Yep. You flew back to LA to be with me?”

  “Yep. Well, this is not how our story was supposed to go.”

  “I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  I stand up under the power of an idea. “Meet me in Austin.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  41

  Meadow

  It’s humid in Austin. The sun can’t seem to break through the clouds, but it won’t ruin my mood. Even the airline losing my luggage won’t dampen it. Exhaustion will, though, so I check into the Omni Hotel and settle in to sleep. I want to be good and rested by the time my boyfriend arrives because I don’t plan to get much sleep after that.

  I hop in the shower, brush my teeth with a toothbrush the hotel provided me, and wash my face before checking my phone one last time when I climb in bed. After texting him my room number and that he has a key under Field Fellowes waiting at the front desk, I rest my head.

  Not sure how I’m going to sleep when I’m so excited to be starting my life with him, but I close my eyes anyway, determined to be awake when he gets here.

  * * *

  Rolling to the side, I keep my eyes closed despite the tingling at my neck. “Hello, sunshine,” is whispered in my ear, and like my body, my mind is roused awake.

  In the dark room, my eyes adjust quickly as they fall on my love. My grin is not quick, but fitting and genuine in the morning hours. His hands slide down my side, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “What took you so long?”

  “I got here as fast as I could.” He kisses me, and it’s a lot like my smile, lingering and warm. “I missed you so damn much.”

  Holding his face between my hands, I take him in, wanting to stare into his soulful eyes forever. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

  He sits back shaking his head. “Don’t be. You’re here because you want to be, not for me, but for you. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  “I did what I thought I was supposed to do instead of trusting my heart.” I push up, the sheet slipping down. I’m quick to catch it, not wanting to speed past this moment too fast. He needs to know I’m here because I know what I want, not because I feel pressured or guilt. I feel love in the most basic form—innocent and pure.

  Real love.

  “It’s still dark out. Just after four. I’m going to shower and clean up before climbing into bed with you. You smell too good to dirty with travel.”

  “I don’t care. I want you.”

  His hand caresses my cheek, and he kisses my forehead. “I care. It won’t take long, but don’t wait up. We have forever.”

  The bed rises when he gets up, and I watch as he digs through his bag. When he heads into the bathroom, I try to stay awake, but the sound of the shower lulls me back to sleep on the words of we have forever.

  * * *

  The soft sound of slumber wakes me up, and I smile. Dave. My Dave. Even though I want to look at him, watch him sleep, and kiss on him, I don’t move because I love his warmth wrapped around me, spooning me from behind.

  I’m careful and reach slowly for my phone to check the time. I’m in no hurry to do anything today other than the man holding me captive in his strong arms. 7:53 a.m. It’s too early to worry about the hours wasting away. I spent the entire day yesterday traveling to be right here in his arms, so I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

  * * *

  My breasts are squeezed, my neck kissed and sucked, a wet trail left in the wake to my shoulder. His body is warm and moving against my backside. Rough fingers find their way between my legs, and I shift, blooming open. Running slick through my wetness, my body stirs with my mind. “I want to feel you inside me,” I whisper, keeping the day at bay a little longer as we come together.

  Fingers are replaced, and he enters me slow but steady; the stretch I’ve missed as
he fills my body, the fullness that allows me to breathe for the first time we’ve been together since the desert. Our souls connect as our bodies do, a way we’ve always been able to bond when the words don’t come.

  Reaching over my shoulder, I hold his head, needing those wet kisses and gentle sucks, wanting as much of him touching me, taking me, filling me as I can greedily get.

  When our movements become rushed, too ragged to continue, he pulls back and turns me so I’m on my back. “I want to see you, watch your face, look into your eyes when you finally give in.”

  “I want that.” I love the sound of our bodies moving together, fighting for a release. With hands anchored on either side of my head, he pushes in and pulls out, eyes on me the whole time. I meet his thrusts, driving forth for my own needs, and when it becomes too much, I hold on as we start falling over that cliff.

  “Fuck, Meadow,” comes at the end of an exasperated moan as if he came before he wanted.

  I love it. I love that I make him feel too good to hold on. But then I’m closing my eyes and chasing the stars in the darkness. My nails sink into his skin as my whole body tenses and becomes his once again.

  We lie in the love we made, our breathing too harsh to say sweet things. They’re not needed anyway. I only need him, so I hold him to me, welcoming his weight bearing down on me.

  My jaw is kissed and, just as we started, my neck gently sucked before he finds my ear and tugs my lobe between his teeth. “You. Are. Incredible.” He rolls to the side and rests his head on the pillow.

  I can feel his gaze on me, so I look over to find his smile matching mine. “I love you.”

  He kisses my skin, and my body burns for him again. He says, “I love you.”

  “So we’re in Austin again.”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “The scene of the crime.”

  “If you’re wanting to redo the first night we met, I’m nixing this idea. We are absolutely terrible at redoes. I’m calling them re-don’ts when it comes to us.”

  His laughter fills the air. “No more redoes. I promise. As for us, where do we go from here?”

  “I was thinking LA.”

  Although he had to know it was coming, the answer still seems to surprise him. “Not Austin?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not London?”

  “Though I love it there, like Austin, you’re not in either of those places, so no.”

  “Why LA? We were living in a hotel room, and I was in spare rooms before.” His arm slides under me, and he moves me so easily into the sanctuary of his body.

  “You’re in LA, but if you were in New York or Chicago, Miami, or even Timbuktu, I’d want to be there because it’s not about the place. It’s about you. You’re my home. My safe place, your love my shelter, your support the roof. I can weather anything when I’m with you.”

  A smirk that’s been itching to come out finally shines on that handsome face of his. “There you go stealing my lines again, charmer.”

  I giggle. “You stole my heart, so I guess we’re even.”

  As our laughter dies down, he says, “I have a few things I need to take care of while I’m here. You don’t have to come, but I feel like I need to wrap up my life here once and for all before making a commitment to live somewhere else.”

  I turn over and face him. Still so happy to be back in his arms, I rest my hand on him and kiss his chest. “What do you need to do?”

  “I’d like to visit my mom before we fly back.”

  “I’d like to see her.”

  “And I guess it’s time to let that apartment go.”

  Sitting up, I rest on my hand and look at him. “Really?”

  “Like you, it’s time for me to make some moves, and I’m ready.”

  “I’ll help however I can, but first, I need clothes.”

  * * *

  “Umm . . .” I stand in the doorway of his old apartment in a little complex hidden by a run-down shopping center. “Wow.” I scratch my head in disbelief, staring at the mess.

  “I said don’t judge.” He looks back from the other side of the studio apartment. “You also said you would help however you can.”

  Boxes are stacked against the wall, trash bags full of clothes are piled in the middle of the room, and old shoes tossed about. “I’m not even sure where to start.” I pull an old Chaotic Circus shirt from a bag, and say, “I prefer The Crow Brothers on you.”

  His gaze darts up, and then he laughs. “Most definitely.”

  Looking at the dishes in the kitchen, he asks, “The dumpster?”

  I step over wadded up sheet music and a tipped over cat-scratching post. “Did you have a cat? And tell me it didn’t die because you stopped coming here.”

  He laughs while grabbing a box of trash bags from under the counter. “No. It belonged to a guy who stayed here once for a month. The cat found a new home, and I kicked him out for not paying rent.”

  “Thank God.” It doesn’t smell, which is good, but dang, boys are messy. “I’m thinking trash.”

  “Yeah, most likely.”

  Two hours later, a truck arrives and starts taking the old clothes, minus a few shirts he saved, the furniture, bed, and dishes to a nearby donation center. Most of the remaining stuff we haul down to the trash, except for two boxes. “What’s in here?”

  “Kid’s stuff—a few toys, photos—that kind of thing my parents gave me when I moved out.”

  I pull out a photo of Dave from high school. “You play golf?”

  “Used to. Lettered in it.”

  I knew about the track team, which makes sense because he runs for exercise, but golf? I like these insights into his life, but this one still surprises me. “How un-Ridge-like of you.”

  “But very David Carson of me.” He winks at me. “I grew up playing golf with my mom and dad. We had dinner at the club at least once a week. When I found music, I felt like I’d found something just for me. I guess the rest is history.”

  I run my finger over the paper, admiring how handsome he was even then. “Did you ever have an awkward growth stage?”

  “Not sure.” He makes a face while clearing out the cabinets of cans of food.

  “You’re handsome. I would’ve totally had a crush on you.”

  That draws his attention. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Totally.” I set the photo back in the box and look around. “Well, it’s official. The place is ready to go. Are you ready to leave and give notice?”

  When he doesn’t answer right away, I find him contemplative, his stance steady, but a million things seem to be on his mind. I go stand in front of him and lean against the counter. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just weird.” He looks over my head at the small space. “I stopped coming in the past year, but I always knew it was still here. It just blows my mind that this was my whole life at one time.”

  Wrapping my arms around his middle, I say, “Change is scary. I know firsthand, and so do you, but it’s time to let go of this period in your life and embrace this next stage.”

  He holds me and nods against the top of my head. “I’m not sad. We have so much to look forward to. It’s time to let go of the past and start living in the present while planning for the future. You, the band, that’s my whole life.”

  My heart clenches from the sweetness. “What plans do you have?”

  “I have a few surprises still up my sleeve.”

  Giddiness bubbles up inside me because, like him, I cannot wait to start our life together.

  After showering back at the hotel, I slip on another pair of jeans and a silky tank top I bought this morning. “This is going to have to do until my luggage arrives.”

  “Mom won’t care. She’s just happy we’re coming to see them.”

  Holding my phone up to show him, I say, “No messages or updates on the suitcase. I only bought concealer and mascara this morning hoping I’d have my makeup bag back. Fortunately, my fave lipstick is in my purse. Hope you don’t min
d bold red lips.”

  He pulls a shirt over his head and glances at me. “I like when your lips are bold.”

  “Cheeky.”

  When he rolls his eyes, I laugh. I love that I’m rubbing off on him. He asks, “How long until your British-isms wear off this time?”

  “I hear the snark. I might hold on to them just to torture you, love.” I let my voice lilt up at the end just to add to my point. “I’m giving them one more day to deliver my luggage before I start throwing a fit.”

  “It’s all replaceable.”

  In the bathroom, I drop my head, sucker punched. “Damn it. Darcy just gave me a new Vivian Westwood dress and my Louboutin heels were in there.”

  Standing in the doorway, unfortunately dressed, he leans against it, and says, “It’s. All. Replaceable. So don’t stress. If they find it—great. If they don’t, we can buy all new stuff.” He kisses my cheek before sitting on the edge of the tub.

  I start putting on lipstick while he watches. Turning toward him, I ask, “How do I look?”

  “You’re making it hard to leave this room.”

  “Good.” I kick out my hip and walk with a wiggle out of the bathroom.

  * * *

  By the end of the meal, I’m stuffed and about to bust the button on my jeans, but when I look next to me, I’m relieved to see Dave isn’t faring much better by how he’s rubbing his stomach. Italian food. “I’ll be working this off for a week.”

  Dave says, “I’m so tired from traveling that this pasta is gonna knock me out for the night.”

  His mom laughs, smiling with pride just from looking at her son. “When do you fly back to LA?”

  Dave glances at me and then reaches over to hold my hand—on top of the table for all to see. He does his best to blend in like any other patron of the restaurant, but with his movie star good looks and the charisma he exudes, he still gets unwanted attention. “We’re in no hurry. Once I’m back, I’ll be back in the studio. We want some time together just the two of us.”