David(58)

“Sounds romantic.”

“Sounds cold to me.”

She laughed, thinking I was joking. But I was serious. I hated being cold. Maybe it was the Texas in me.

We were greeted by the pilot who reassured me the flight plan was filed and we were ready to go. The flight attendant walked around to the back of the car to retrieve the luggage and we were set to go.

Ricki shook her head as she walked onto the jet and took in the luxuries that my father so generously chose. He’d wanted a plane that he could use to fly between Texas and Washington, D.C. if he became a congressman. He never got to use it but for one or two flights, but it was one of the assets Ash made a decision about without waiting for me to be ready to decide. He confiscated it to be used as part of Gray Wolf Security. He thought Father would approve.

He probably would, but I was pretty sure he would approve of this flight, too.

“This doesn’t seem to fit the image of Gray Wolf.”

“What image does Gray Wolf have?”

She touched a finger to her chin as if she was really trying to decide. “Rough-and-tumble military style. Not luxury.”

I took her hand and pulled her down onto a wide loveseat tucked into one corner of the cabin. “Is that how you see us?”

“That’s how I see Ash and Donovan. And Kirkland from time to time.”

“What about Joss?”

“Joss is in a category all her own.”

“And me?”

She touched the side of my face, her touch lingering. “You can’t be categorized, my darling.”

“I’ll take that.”

I kissed her gently. It was my turn to linger, and I chose to linger there, on the softest part of her body, on the place where I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I couldn’t wait to get her home; I couldn’t wait to undress her and share some of those other places, those soft places that she showed only to me. But, for now, I was content to linger on her lips.

The pilot informed us we’d be taking off momentarily and should fasten our seatbelts. I tugged her seatbelt tight around her waist, assuring her that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, before doing my own. She was a seasoned flier, so the takeoff was nothing to her. I hadn’t flown in a while, and the last time had been in the back of an air ambulance, so I was a little unnerved. But I stared into her eyes the whole time and that made it tolerable.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she finally asked.

The flight attendant came over with a couple of warm drinks made of cream and schnapps and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. Ricki took hers politely and tasted it, her eyebrows rising and a low hum slipping from between those full lips.

“Wow!”

I laughed.

The flight was a little over two hours, and I managed to evade her questions the whole time. When we landed, the warm air hit us hard in the face. It was humid, but it was familiar. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

I was home.

There was a car waiting, a Mercedes, ironically enough. I think Ricki had caught on because she didn’t ask again. I drove, my heart pounding as we approached that curve that worked its way around a small pond. I pulled to the side of the road on a whim, content to just sit behind the wheel and contemplate. But Ricki got out and crossed to the memorial that had been placed without my knowledge at the place where my parents died.

She touched the embossed letters with respect.

“The people of this city loved my parents.”

She nodded. “It’s touching.”

I wrapped my arms around her. “I didn’t know this was here.”

“I’m glad it is,” she said. “It shows how loved they were.”

Her words were profound to me. She’d just proven to me why I loved her so much.

We got back into the car and finished the journey I never was able to complete that night three years ago now. Ricki didn’t react to the outside of the impressive house, and I was grateful for that. I didn’t want her to say anything until she’d seen it in the light of day. It was late now, too dark to truly appreciate the English-manor style of the stone house.

The caretaker had left the lights on. We walked hand in hand through the front door. The smell of the house, the sight of the familiar furnishings and the pictures on the wall hit me harder than I expected. I hesitated at the entrance to the living room.

“You okay?”

I shook my head. No, I wasn’t okay.

But I was better than I had been.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She followed me up the stairs and moved ahead of me as we reached the doorway of my childhood bedroom. But I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.