Come Fly With Me (16 page)

“It’d have been slow and subtle,” Mick pushed on. “But it would have happened. And one day you’d have looked up and you and Sloan would have just drifted apart.”

Grier thought about all the long nights over the last few months. Those endless hours with nothing but her thoughts, when she tried to piece together what had gone wrong.

And more than once, she’d been unable to shake the idea that she and Jason had been in a relationship based on something other than love. Had anyone asked her at the time, she’d have said she was in love.

But he’d been surprisingly easy to get over.

Unlike Mick.

On a soft sigh, she pushed the thought away, loath to compare Jason and Mick. Jason was her past and Mick—well, he was his own man.

“That doesn’t paint a very nice picture of me. Or of how I value my friends.”

“But it likely would have been your life, Grier. Which is why you’re more embarrassed than hurt about what she said.”

“Aren’t you full of opinions.”

“I’m just calling them like I see them.”

“Well, you’ve got one thing right. I am embarrassed
and I feel like a fool. As though everyone knew what was going on but me.”

“You’re not a fool.”

“Yes, but I
feel
like one. Which is really all that matters.”

Mick threw up his hands and she nearly laughed at the disgusted look that rode his features as he kicked at a pile of snow in a move strangely reminiscent of hers. “And people wonder why I like my orderly, logical planes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Seriously. Life’s not about making one perfect decision after another, Grier. There’s no scorecard. We’re not fools when we make a bad decision and geniuses when we make a good one.”

“But making good decisions doesn’t make us feel bad.”

He whirled on her from where he focused on the snow and Grier took a step back at the feral gleam in his eye. “Oh no? Because I think you and I made a pretty damn good decision last month and you’ve been running from it ever since.”

“This conversation has nothing to do with that night.”

Even as she said the words, Grier wondered how her nose wasn’t growing.

That night. That single, glorious night when she’d put her brain on hold and let her heart make the decisions.

She’d changed in those long hours in his arms. She’d given in and taken what she’d wanted, instead of behaving like the person she was expected to be.

And it had been perfect.

Until she’d run. Because actions had consequences and how the hell could she, a New Yorker to the core, carry on an affair with a bush pilot from Alaska?

Or worse, how could she fall in love with him?

“This conversation has everything to do with that night.”

Mick had sworn to himself he wasn’t going there. He wasn’t going to goad her and force her to explain what had happened after that amazing night they’d spent together.

And what had he gone and done after three minutes in her company?

He’d fucking gone there.

“That just…happened. And it was wonderful and amazing.”

The anger that pulsed in his blood flashed over to out-and-out rage. “Do. Not. Pacify. Me.”

Whatever he was feeling reflected right back at him in the sheer ire that tightened her lips and had her spine going rigid.

“What do you want me to say? That it was the most amazing night of my life? That you gave me back a piece of myself, Mick? Because last time I checked, men didn’t want to hear that sort of flowery shit from the women they have a one-night stand with in the middle of a damn sauna.”

She stormed off before his addled brain could register she’d left.

Was that really how she’d seen that evening? As a one-night stand?

And how had such an amazing, vibrant woman thought there was something missing in her? His earlier dark thoughts about Jason took a dip further toward murderous rage as he began to understand the true depths of what the asshole had done to Grier emotionally.

His jumbled thoughts parted as he registered her walking away from him and he moved after her, nearly slipping on the slick parking lot. He regained his balance, thankful his long legs gave him one stride for every two of hers, and caught up with her. “If you think you’re dropping a bomb like that and walking away, guess again.”

“There is no bomb, Mick. Just like there is no us. There was hot sex and an amazing night together. Thank you for it and the smorgasbord of orgasms you managed to serve up.”

Mick reached for her hand, holding tight until she turned to look at him.

He didn’t say anything—he couldn’t even find words—as he stared into her dark gray eyes. So much pain there. And anger. And a hurt that lanced through him and made him wish he could change things for her.

But he knew better than anyone there were some roads you had to walk on your own.

So he fell back on the two things he’d always had in spades.

Honesty and humor.

“Smorgasbord?”

Her pink cheeks turned a delightful shade of red. “It seemed an apt term.”

“It’s unique, I’ll give you that. Just like you.”

A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Why do you keep pushing? I’m not really worth the trouble.”

Mick moved in and wrapped his arms around her. As his mouth met hers, he murmured against her lips. “You are so worth it.”

He felt the briefest hesitation before she melted in his arms. The hard set of her shoulders relaxed as she wrapped her arms around his waist and her lips opened beneath his.

He reacted in kind, pulling her more tightly against his body. Moments as fragile as the snowflakes that fell around them knit themselves together as he made love to her with his mouth.

The heavy gloves that covered his hands restricted his movements as the urge to touch her consumed him. And the seducer became the seduced as her tongue slid past his lips to tangle with his. Fire shot through his body straight to his groin as the sweet taste of her lit up his senses.

Good God, how he wanted her.

Which was the exact reason he needed to pull back.

Mick lifted his head but kept his hands on her. “And baby, for the record, what we shared wasn’t a one-night stand.”

She blinked a few times as the sensual haze receded from her gray eyes. “It wasn’t?”

With as much finesse as he could muster while his body screamed at him in frustration, he leaned in and planted a kiss against her jaw, then worked his way slowly up toward her ear. “No, it wasn’t,” he whispered hotly in her ear, satisfied when she shivered in his arms.

“How can you say that?” she mumbled back as her hands reached under his jacket and fisted in the heavy flannel of his shirt where it hung past his waist.

Her fingers brushed against his skin and almost had him throwing restraint to the wind, but he forced himself to focus. “Because I’m most definitely getting my hands on you again.”

Kate took her favorite chair in the back of the Jitters and opened her book. As outings went, it was a far cry from the nights she’d always imagined she’d have growing up, but at least it wasn’t the inside of her house.

She was sick of her house.

And she was sick to death of her own company.

Lifting the decadent mocha she permitted herself once a week, Kate allowed her gaze to roam the room briefly. The coffeehouse was quiet tonight, the few people in evidence huddled into small conversation groups. She’d smiled and said her hellos on her way in. She was thankful no one had tried to follow her to her seat or make small talk.

If it was possible, she was more sick of small talk than she was of the inside of the house.

After another quick sip of her mocha, she reached for the book in her lap, determined to settle in to someone else’s problems. One of her students had sighed dramatically through a book report over teen vampires and she’d picked up
Vampire Academy
on a whim. Four books later, she was hooked and desperate to know whether Dimitri would stay a soulless vampire or whether he could somehow be saved.

Smack in the middle of one of his odes to the heroine, a deep voice interrupted her. “Are you all right?”

The light hand on her shoulder had a shriek bubbling to her lips as Kate dropped her book.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

The man from the Indigo’s lobby bar—Jason—was already bending down for her book that had fallen from her lap. Without thinking, she followed him down and their heads collided.

For the briefest instant her hand covered the back of his head, the soft strands of his hair against the pads of her fingers, before they both pulled away as if having been singed.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Kate dropped her hand and grabbed the book, embarrassed to be caught touching him
and
reading teen fiction. “You just startled me.”

“Can I sit down?”

“Sure.”

“Why’d you ask me if I was all right?”

“You looked as if you were about to jump out of your skin.” He pointed to the book. “That must be one incredible story. I should give it a try.”

“It’s a YA.” At his confused look, she added, “Young adult. About vampires. One of my students recommended it. I doubt it’s your cup of tea. Or coffee.”

“Since my body’s still on New York time and I’ve not slept for two days, I’d be willing to give it a try anyway.”

His smile was as warm and friendly as she’d
remembered from the bar and Kate fought the interest that prickled the back of her neck.

“It’s part of a series.” Kate fought the urge to smack her forehead at the inane chatter.

“Even better. Hours’ and hours’ worth of reading material.”

“What are you doing here?” On a rush, she added, “I mean, besides dealing with jet lag?”

“I didn’t feel all that welcome in the hotel lobby and there’s not much else open.”

“Small towns have a unique way of welcoming outsiders. Out-and-out acceptance that borders on parade-worthy or flat-out rejection. Unfortunately, you’ve gotten the latter.” The real question, to her mind, was
why
.

And if her curiosity at Dimitri’s eventual fate was high, it was off the charts for the man sitting opposite her. What had brought him all the way here? And why was Grier’s reception so chilly?

“You’re from New York?”

“I am.”

“We seem to be getting a lot of New Yorkers these days. They’re going to need to add a direct flight.”

Stop babbling, Winston. Your country bumpkin roots are showing. In vivid detail.

“You’re Grier’s sister?”

“Half sister.”

He leaned forward and she had the insane urge to run her fingers through his dark hair again. This time on purpose.

“You said that before. In the exact same way.”

“Sorry.”

Jason didn’t move back and she couldn’t help but notice how the day’s growth of beard roughened his cheeks slightly. Or how thin lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. “Nothing to apologize for. It just sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” When he just waited for her to continue, she reached for her drink and took another fortifying sip, measuring her words. “Neither of us knew the other existed until a few months ago.”

His eyebrows rose. “That explains a lot.”

“I thought you were her friend. Didn’t she tell you?”

“Would you consider me unoriginal if I said it’s complicated?”

“Not much about Grier isn’t complicated. But I don’t need a blinking neon sign to understand that’s code for a previous relationship.”

Whatever interest sparked in her veins fizzled at the evidence he was likely in Indigo to win Grier back. What was harder to understand was why the thought was so disappointing.

“We did have a relationship. But it’s been over for a while.”

Kate fought the urge to squirm in her chair as the moment grew awkward with the knowledge he’d had a relationship with her sister and she knew he felt it, too, when he stood up.

“I should probably let you get back to your book. I can get this to go, right?”

“Oh sure. They’ve got cups over there.” She pointed across the café.

“I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.” He had taken a few steps before a question rose to her lips. “Why are you here?”

When Jason turned, she could have sworn she saw an ocean of regret in the dark depths of his eyes. But it was the lonely timbre of his voice that confirmed it. “I’m not quite so sure anymore.”

The first thing Grier saw as she walked through the door of her hotel room was Sloan and Avery sitting on her bed, a plate of cookies between them. Before she could even say anything, Sloan was up and across the room. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

“I know.” Grier reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I know,” she whispered again against the soft blond hair at Sloan’s temple.

As Sloan pulled back, Grier couldn’t help adding, “But how’d you know I’d be coming back to this room alone?”

A sheepish grin stole across Sloan’s face. “Avery and I were up in her apartment. Walker texted me from the lobby and let me know you were by yourself.”

Grier shook her head in mock disgust. “Sold up the river by my lawyer.”

“We actually made a bet on it,” Avery said. She extended what looked like a twenty toward Sloan. “Doubtful bitch here won.”

Sloan waved the twenty like a flag. “And before you take that as an insult on your charm, grace and all-around wonderfulness, I have absolutely no doubt the
two of you
will
have sex again. I just didn’t think it would be tonight. So I’m going to double this twenty and say it’ll be by the end of the week.”

“Sloan!” Grier crossed to the bed and picked up a cookie. “What do you take me for?”

“A woman who’s got a date for hot sex with Mick O-yeah O’Shaughnessy.”

“You know, I never got that before,” Avery said thoughtfully as she reached for a cookie. “Isn’t it funny, orgasm and O’Shaughnessy both start with the same letter?”

Grier dropped onto the bed and reached for a pillow, tossing it at Avery’s head. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”

“It’s a rare and awesome gift. And like all gifts, it must be protected, nurtured and treated with the utmost respect.”

“He
is
more than a hot package,” Grier argued.