GUNNER: A Forsaken Riders MC Romance: Alpha Male Biker Club Bad Boy Romance (Motorcycle Club New Adult Contemporary Short Stories) (119 page)

As they stood on the peak, Dixon looking out across the Highlands, Calleigh looked at Dixon and she knew she loved him as much now as she ever did. She was willing to stay.
No, I WANT to stay. I am ready for whatever is next, if he asks me to stay.

Chapter Seven: Home Is Where the Heart Is

Six days. It was all the time Calleigh had left in Scotland. Dixon had dropped hints, said it would be great if she could stay, but had not said anything specific. It was easy to believe she was willing to quit her job, sell the house and car to stay in Scotland and live life like some permanent outward bound experience while she was on vacation. They had not discussed living arrangements, employment -- any of the things which needed to be settled before either of them moved country. As the end crept closer, it become more difficult to imagine walking away from a secure position with a steady pay check to leap into the unknown.

What she did know was that she did not want to leave Dixon again.

Would he be insulted if I asked him to come with me?
She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Dixon had spent a lifetime here. He had everything here, a business, friends, employees, and a network of people depending on him.

The phone rang and Calleigh answered with a distracted, “Hello.”

After they plowed through the greetings, office news, and project updates, Beverly asked, “Are you ready to get your head back in the game and get back to work? There is another interest capture project on the table when you get back.”

Calleigh could not work up the enthusiasm for another project she had no interest in. “Not really.”

“Oh, my God. You’re not thinking of staying, are you?” Beverly sounded panicked. “Why would you do that?”

Calleigh explained Dixon’s situation with his business.

“So? He might have been great in college, but why should you be the one to give up everything? You have money and a real career. If anyone is going to do it, he should be the one to sell his shop. I mean, you make more than enough for both of you. Has he even said that he wants you to stay?”

“No,” Calleigh managed to grind out through grit teeth.
What if I am alone in this? For all I know, this is just a quick romance with an old girlfriend for him.

***

Six days. It was all the time Calleigh had left in Scotland. Dixon did not want Calleigh to leave, but the practical realities had set in. He had spent the past two nights on the computer looking at American job sites. It convinced him he was not cut out to work for someone else, with their twice yearly reviews, and sliding pay scales. Calculation after calculation had confirmed what he had already suspected: he was not going to get enough out of selling his shop to purchase another in the US. To open something which had even the slimmest hope of competing with the chains or Amazon would require borrowing hundreds of thousands of dollars. A staggering amount of money to lose if it ended in failure.

Not that she had asked him to come with her anyhow. There were hints, little statements about how warm it was in Houston, how new everything was, how much he would like it, but she had not said, “Why don’t you come with me?”

Still, it wasn’t enough to just go jump on plane.

He sat behind his desk, pencil bouncing off his chin as he drummed away the seconds until he made his decision. He picked up the phone and dialed.

A pleasant female voice answered, “Highland Estate Agents.”

“I’d like to talk to someone about selling my business.”

***

Caiden scratched his chin and there was a far-away look in his eyes when he said, “I’ll talk to Ms. Teasel.”

“No thanks, mate. I need to tell her.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Caiden beamed at Dixon, “I’ve saved most of mine over the years.”

“’Cause you live with your Mum.”

“Aye, best rent in town, she has. And Ms. Teasel has a pension she hasn’t used. I’m thinkin’, if you haven’t been too outrageous with the price, we should put in a bid.”

“Ah, mate, that would be brilliant.”

“No promises, but…” Caiden shrugged.

“What about The Ladies?” Dixon asked.

“No way in hell. You’re telling them. I would much prefer to be the hero in their world than the villain.”

***

Dixon tried to talk to The Ladies, but the moment the word’s “estate agent” were uttered, he had to take evasive maneuvers.

“You’ll do no such thing, you bastard,” said The Lady on the right.

He took a dinner roll to the temple.

“They’ll have to carry our cold corpses out of this building!” shouted The Lady on the left.

Two more dinner roll volleys were fired. He took one to the chest, but the other went wide and sailed over the mezzanine railing.

“If there is even a whiff of estate agent on these premises, I’ll hide ya’!” The Ladies each grabbed and end of a baking sheet full of rolls and heaved, the entire contents of the tray raining down on his head as he scrambled down the stairs.

Dixon was hunched over his desk, laughing. He had eaten his way through the dinner roll missiles which had been caught in his clothing before when he called the estate agent back and cancelled the appointment. The shop was not a building filled with books and interesting, possibly otherwise unemployable people, it was home.

He knew he could not leave it.

***

While Dixon was at the shop, Calleigh booked a meeting with an estate agent, as they called them over here. She also had lined up an interview. She pulled the unworn business clothes from her closet and got ready. The estate agent would be downstairs in the hotel lobby in twenty minutes. It’s a fact finding mission, that’s all. I’ll talk to Dixon tonight, then make my decision. Again.

Three dismal flats into the tour with the estate agent, Calleigh stopped the woman and said, “I don’t think we understood each other on the phone. I am looking for a two or three bedroom house with garage.”

The estate agent smiled pleasantly, “Unfortunately, after the conversion from dollars to pounds, the down payment you specified only qualifies you for flats in the £175,000-225,000 range.”

“Okay, so let’s see some of those.” Calleigh knew higher prices and the conversion rate were going eat into her buying power, but she was ready compromise.

“We are. Would you like to see another?”

Calleigh’s mouth dropped open. Her first thought was of her newly built home in Houston Heights. Can I really give that up? “No. I’ll call you if anything changes,” she answered.

***

She had left the afternoon after the interview open. If it was anything like her Commonwealth interview, she would meet with one of the supervisors. They would then go to lunch, and then return to the office after where she would meet some co-workers, talk to HR and pick-up her offer letter. Apparently it would be for a temporary-leading-to-a-long-term position and they were in a hurry to hire. That suited her fine.  She could be back at the hotel before Dixon closed the shop.

When she walked into the conference room, her first thought was, I’m in the wrong place. At one end of the conference table sat two men and a woman, all wearing ill-fitting business suits. There was a single seat at the far end of the room for Calleigh.

The questions started before she was seated. “What is a working interest owner’s royalty rate if it is not stipulated in Joint Operating Agreement? How do you calculate royalty payments when there are different owners in each strata? What is the most complex drilling unit you have ever handled? Was it oil, gas or comingled?”

For two hours the questions came at her non-stop. By the time she dragged herself from the room, she wanted to cry. Never in her life had a group of people left her feeling so stupid and inadequate.

Beverly called as Calleigh walked back to the hotel. 

“What are you doing? There are rumors going around that Debbie in HR has been on the phone with some company in Scotland you interviewed with,” Beverly’s voice hissed through the line.

So much for confidentiality. “Yeah, the interview was a disaster.”

“Stop screwing around or there isn’t going to be anything for you to come back to.”

Calleigh stopped in the street. “What does that mean?”

“There’s talk, okay? Decision time. Do you really want to spend your life in the middle of nowhere Scotland? Or do you want to get your life back on track? Think about the bonus for the next project. You could put in a pool or do something nice for yourself.”

“There is a lot more at stake here than a bonus. This is my life!” She hung up in a snit without giving Beverly a chance to respond. Her hands shook with anger as she dialed Muriel’s number. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked without preamble.

“You worry about all the wrong things,” said Muriel.

“Oh, is that all?” Calleigh resumed her plod toward the hotel.

“Aye. Now, tell Muriel what twist you have wound yourself into this time.”

Calleigh dumped the mess at Muriel’s feet. After five minutes of babble, she finally paused for a breath.

“Ok. First, talk to Dixon. Properly. If you need a job, why put up with all that? March down to the local comprehensive school. If what Dix says is true, you’re better at maths than the rest of them. The ones with brains will get out of the way and let you get to it. Figure out what you want, then do that.”

“Damn the consequences?”

“Exactly.”

***

Calleigh blew out a calming breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she wanted. There was a strong urge to give into the fear, to change her mind again and take the easy way out. But she was determined not to do it, not this time. She picked up her purse and walked out the door. It was time to have the conversation which would determine the course of the rest of her life.

***

They sat across a small, dark wood table from one another, the fingers of her right hand clasped in the fingers of his left. Outside the window next to the table, the lamps which lined the path next to the River Ness flickered on. Neither of them knew what to say, so they said nothing beyond placing their order with a passing waitress.

The silence became awkward before either of them started to speak.

“I talked to an estate agent,” said Dixon.

“So, did I.”

“You did?” he looked confused and then plowed on, “Well, I can’t sell the shop.” He had not meant to blurt it out, but there it was.

“I know.” She studied the tablecloth, tracing the pattern with the left hand. “It would be like selling a part of yourself. The work you’ve done here, I can’t ask you to leave that.”

He leaned forward, half across the table. “Did you say you talked to an estate agent?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Can’t say it went well.”

“Oh. Right.” He sat back again. “Caiden and Ms. Teasel were going to try to buy the shop.”

“Really?” She lit up as she looked up at him.

He swallowed hard. “They were pretty relieved not to have to.”

“The Ladies?”

“Chucked a tray full of dinner rolls at me.”

She choked back her laughter, then shook her head. “I need to know what you want.”

Dixon’s grip on her fingers tightened as he looked at the window. “I’m sorry, but I’m selfish. I want it all,” he looked down at the tablecloth for a moment then looked Calleigh in the eye. “I want you. I want the shop. I want Scotland. I want you to be happy, and I want you to stay, and I want to go with you if you leave, and…Everything. I want everything.” His jaw clenched. “And that’s not possible, is it?”

Her eyes welled-up, but she laughed. “I’ve been kicking myself. I’ve changed my mind a hundred times since I saw you standing behind the counter with my credit card in your hand. Stay. Go. No, stay.” She swallowed. “We want the same things. I love you more today than I did ten years ago.”

“Please stay.”

“Yes.”

He was across the table, her head captured between his hands, his lips on hers even as her answer still hung in the air. He pulled a fraction of an inch away. His lips brushed against hers as he said, “I love you, Calleigh R. McCabe.”

“Isn’t that nice? Now you want to move yourself so’s I can set down this pizza?” The waitress looked as testy as she sounded.

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry,” Dixon said as he re-took his seat. To Calleigh he said, “So what do we do now?”

"Eat some pizza, drink some beer, and then go back to my hotel room," said Calleigh.

Dixon smirked as he said with a shrug, "All right." Then a huge smile stretched across his face. "That sounds brilliant."

Epilogue

It took eight weeks to clear out.

Calleigh handed in her notice at Commonwealth the day after she returned. Two weeks later, she sailed out on an exit interview high, and dropped the box of things from her office in a trash can. She had turned down the job offer from the Scottish energy company. It was time to put that teaching degree to work.

With Dixon’s help, she Ebay-d, donated, garage sale-d and purged possessions until she was down to the few things she wanted to take with her back to Scotland.

They booked their return flight and crossed their fingers the house would sell and close before they were due to leave. It came in just under the wire, the house closing the day before their flight. They drove from the closing to a dealership, they sold Calleigh’s car, then took a taxi back to the hotel room they had booked for the night.

***

They were early for the flight. Through the crowded airport they weaved, hand-in-hand, both strangely quiet as they made their way to the gate.

When the flight number was called, Calleigh looked from her magazine to Dixon with a huge smile. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” His smile was a mirror of hers.

“Let’s go home.”

THE END