Fly Me Home: Home is Where the Heat Is, Book 4 Page 13

  Ian sipped his brandy and eyed his friend. Cain was leaving him? He’d been the one and only constant in his life since he was twelve. And what the hell did Texas have to do with anything… “I’m only going to Texas to deliver on my end of the bargain.”

  Cain laughed. “That’s where you’ll end up though. We both know it.”

  “We know no such thing.”

  “You can bullshit Jimmy’s family and your so-called friends.” Cain shook his head. “You can even bullshit the media and yourself. But you can’t BS me. And you can’t BS Liz.”

  Anger struck Ian in a violent wave. Cain might be a great friend but who the hell was he to question Ian’s motives, future plans or Elizabeth’s involvement in his plans? “Meaning?”

  “You hate this life, man. Have for years now.” Cain didn’t miss a beat. He stood, shoulders stiff and face pinched. “I’ve never said a word. Not when we were kids, not when your parents died and you went on a three-year bender. I even kept quiet when you hooked up with one disaster after another, including Jimmy.”

  “You’re crossing a fine line here,” Ian warned. He’d had great times with Jimmy. Sure, they were fractured, but that’s what he came from. Uncertainty was his safe zone. No rules meant no foul.

  “I have to this time,” Cain continued, breaking into the memory Ian had slid into. “You’re constantly setting yourself up for a fall. I’ve seen it time and again. But Liz is different. She’s a sure bet. I don’t blame you for bucking the odds considering what life has handed you. But it’s time to stop living in your past. She’s more than you expected, and she’s the only person I’ve met that really loves your sorry ass.”

  Ian wasn’t sure how to respond. “So you’re really leaving?”

  Cain ignored the question. “You’re miserable without her. She’s a good woman who would do anything to make you happy, including crying her eyes out when she left. But she hid it from you, so you could do what you needed to do.”

  Ian clamped his jaw tight. He handled life, and the people it threw his way, the same as every interview or review he gave. With ice-cold precision. Why was this any different? Cain should know better. He was damn well aware that Elizabeth was a great person. Maybe too great for him to walk in and ask for a chance to make something of what they had when he didn’t know if he was able to offer it.

  “I’m taking the job,” Cain said in the silence. “It’s time for something new for me, and you.”

  He left the room before Ian could come up with a way to change his friend’s mind. Truth was, he’d never had to. No one had ever stayed close enough to have to worry about it.

  Now the two people who meant something to him were gone, or going…

  Fuck.

  Ian watched the sun set through the limo windows. He’d never realized how flat Texas was. He’d seen it several times from the sky, but this vantage point was mesmerizing. The earth went on—forever. He recalled a story Elizabeth had told him about watching a storm roll in. She’d said it was like watching a curtain being drawn, the rain coming across the land like a wall. He could understand the description as the last vestiges of light drew backward over the flat ground.

  It had been almost three weeks since he’d last been in Texas. His days had swirled together, hours passing before he’d known where they’d gone. Cain had stayed at his side through Jimmy’s crazy relatives, the funeral and work. But the nights had been torture. Long and lasting and lonely.

  His friend had left five days ago to start his new job, and the loss was almost as acute and stunning as missing Elizabeth. Cain had always been in the shadows, watching over him, and it felt like Elizabeth had always been at his side. He’d never missed anyone the way he missed them both.

  It had taken a few days, one very long platonic night with Arjun and a bottle of brandy before he realized what had been nagging at him from the moment his jet had touched down in Texas to drop Elizabeth off.

  He was losing the two people he’d come to count on. Cain because he’d been like a brother, and Elizabeth because somewhere in their crazy travel, talks and sexual encounters, he’d fallen for her.

  Which couldn’t be right.

  Every love story he’d ever read, heard or watched on TV always had a defining moment. There was always a catalyst, a point of revelation that let the people involved knew that they loved someone. It hadn’t happened like that with Elizabeth. He hadn’t been looking, or lonely, or fighting against love. He’d been just fine. And still she’d wormed her way in somehow. He’d left before realizing he didn’t want to be alone, or continue to live the lie his life had become. Not when Elizabeth made him feel good. Not when she made him smile. Not when everything they were was amazing.

  The sun finally set and the land outside his window turned dark. Not city dark where lights flickered and glowed from every corner. Texas went black.

  If the limo broke down, there was no certain beacon that would guide him to civilization. The stark absence of light was almost as profound as Elizabeth’s absence. It swallowed him. As frightening as it was unimaginable.

  He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d say, or how she’d react. All he knew was he had to try. Checking to make sure the small box in his jacket pocket was still there, he took a deep breath. He might not have much to offer a woman who wanted love, starry nights on porch swings and extended family lunches, but he had to take the chance.

  Elizabeth was worth that and so much more. There had to be a happy medium.

  The limo slowed and turned up a dirt drive. This was it.

  Ian closed his eyes. Here goes nothing.

  “You sure you don’t wanna come with?” Brenda asked, leaning half out of her truck window.

  “Next time,” Liz promised. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She waved as Brenda turned her truck around at the head of the driveway and sent up a cloud of dust in her wake. Liz checked the empty mailbox and started down Mama’s driveway. She was exhausted, which was great. She hadn’t slept well in weeks. Some of the ladies from work were meeting at the local bar for a margarita round and karaoke. As fun as it sounded, she just wasn’t ready to dive back into that portion of her hometown life. The women going out tonight were single. They were looking for a good time.

  Liz might be single, but she needed more time to regroup. As great as it was to be home to rooster crow alarm clocks, blue jeans and barefoot evenings, part of her missed the uninhibited life she’d experienced with Ian. A life so far apart from her reality it might as well have been a dream. Texas was where she belonged, but there was a tiny place in her psyche that would never be the same.

  Her boots kicked up the comforting scent of earth as she walked. She loved it like she loved warm biscuits with sausage gravy and the strain of pulling weeds from a garden bursting with produce to can for the cellar. That love didn’t stop the intrusion of memories she’d made with Ian. They were exotic and overpowering when she laid her head down at night, the memory of his touch almost palpable in the dark. But she had to be realistic. It had been a moment in time. Beautiful and amazing, but temporary. Like prom, or spring break, or the first kiss. She had to let him go. Ian was a fantasy she’d been blessed to live, explore and memorize. All of him and his world were in her past. Hell, it’d been weeks since she’d seen or heard from him. No calls. No texts. Nothing.

  He, and the ache in her heart, didn’t belong in Texas.

  She repeated the mantra long enough to walk up the last bit of driveway to Mama’s house. The sleek black limo sitting out front was an odd contrast to the old farmhouse, and Liz forced her heart to slow down when it threatened to shoot into overdrive. There’d never been a fancy car in their driveway, and Mama didn’t know anyone with enough money to rent a limo.

  It had to be Ian. Yeah, no such luck with the heartbeat control…

  Hurrying toward the front porch, Liz stopped when she heard M
ama’s voice. The windows were open, allowing the scent of apple pie to seep out onto the light breeze. Ian’s deep voice washed over her and she held back, listening.

  She smiled when Mama asked him if he believed in God.

  This would be interesting. She was dying to know why he was there, but seeing how he handled her mama was too tempting. She’d save him if he needed it. Eventually.

  Ian balked. Mama McCarthy’s house didn’t have a patch of wall, counter or knickknack shelf that didn’t have a Bible verse, cross, hand-stitched prayer or replica of Jesus on it. She’d been welcoming. Complete Southern hospitality, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react if he told her he believed her God was a myth.

  Fuck.

  Tugging at his collar, he met her gaze and tried for civil truth. Lying to pacify someone wasn’t who he was. “I’m a man of science. I believe in experiments and facts and logic. As yet, I’ve never had reason to believe.”

  She smiled and set a heaping serving of warm apple pie—topped with cheddar cheese—in front of him. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Yer welcome.” She sat down across from him and rimmed her coffee mug with her finger. Elizabeth had her eyes. Soft and blue and vibrant. They shared other similarities and Ian realized he was staring at a version of who Elizabeth would become.

  “Science is good and bad.” Mama McCarthy smiled. “It tells us good things. It also makes all sorts of mistakes. Sometimes science makes us know more than we should and causes more worry than good.”

  He wasn’t going to push her on science. Scooping another piece of the best apple pie he’d ever experienced into his mouth, he stalled. “That’s true.”

  “’Course God likes thinkers.” She sent a glance heavenward like He may be watching. “Way I see it, if you live your life as a good person, don’t harm no one, and help when ya can, he’ll welcome you home in the end, believer or not. The God I believe in ain’t no snob. He knows who’s good and who’s not. When you get there and you’re good stock, he’ll point at ya with a big grin and say I tol’ ya I was real.”

  Ian finished off his last bite and settled back in his chair. He liked Mama’s way of thinking. “If there were more who believed like you, I might have been a believer.”

  “There’s many who take God too serious. There’s hypocrites too. Preachin’ one thing and doin’ another. I can see why some would question my belief in the world we live in. I tend to keep to myself. I can go to church, or I can worship from my own backyard. Don’ need fancy clothes or churches between me and Him.” Mama chuckled and took his plate to the sink. “Sorry. I tend to get sidetracked. And I don’ mean to be rude, but Jeopardy is comin’ on. You’re welcome to watch it with me, but if not, my baby should be home soon. If’n ya want, ya can wait on the back porch swing. I’ll let her know you’re out there waitin’ when she gets here.”

  Ian knew a dismissal when he heard one. Best part was, she did it without being insulting. He crossed to where she stood at the sink and reached out to shake her hand. “I appreciate your hospitality. That was the best pie I’ve ever had.”

  She looked at his hand like it was a rattlesnake and pulled him into her embrace. After a long moment, she set him back. “You need to work on your huggin’.”

  Ian chuckled, as blown away by Mama McCarthy’s personality as he’d been by her daughter’s. “Yeah, I probably do.”

  “Out them doors. She should be home soon.”

  Ian walked out onto the porch and stared up at the stars. He’d never seen so many. It was like they’d followed him from every corner of the earth just to light up this particular night. An earthy scent drifted on the breeze and the warm evening air soothed the tension in his shoulders. An old wooden bench swing creaked from the corner of the porch. The paint was peeling and the hinges were rusted, but there was something so welcoming about Mama’s porch, he had to sit down. Elizabeth’s stories had often included a swing like this, and he felt a bond with a lifestyle he’d never experienced.

  Leaning back, he closed his eyes and kicked the swing into motion. It was more than the swing, he realized. It was the collaborative Texas aura. Everything in this moment filled him with peace. “I see what you meant, Elizabeth.”

  “Do you?”

  Her voice coming from the shadows startled him, and he sat forward. She walked under the porch light, her eyes searching. She wore boots and jeans, and a button-down blue-and-peach plaid shirt. All that was missing was a cowgirl hat, but tonight her hair was braided and hung over one shoulder. She looked amazing and tired, and soft.

  Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together to hide the way they were shaking. He’d never been this nervous. Oddly enough, it felt good. Like anytime he was with Elizabeth. “Yeah. I get it. There’s something really peaceful and simple about your home.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she took the steps onto the porch. “Ian, you didn’t come all this way for small talk, so why are you here?”

  “Don’ be rude, baby,” Mama called from inside. “Gentleman comes a callin’ from a long ways, you better mind your manners.” Ian laughed, until she added, “’Course if’n he’s an ass and you want ’im gone, the shotgun’s loaded.”

  “No buckshot bottoms for you tonight, Mama.” Elizabeth scowled. “Close the window, please.”

  Mama didn’t say more, and a moment later, the window slid shut. Ian patted the spot beside him. “I’m glad you don’t want to shoot me. Though you probably should, since I didn’t even call.”

  She sat down beside him, her gaze steady. “I didn’t expect to hear from you. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  Ian hated the lack of emotion in her voice. Where was the spark, her smile, the light in her eyes? Up close, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He hoped she wasn’t suffering the same sleep, or lack thereof, issues he’d been experiencing, but there was a small part of him that hoped being away from him had affected her even fractionally as deeply as it had him.

  “I should have,” he stated. It was a no-brainer. He should have known it from the moment he’d flown away. “I just didn’t know how, or why I should.”

  “And now?” She shifted to sit with one leg crooked up next to him. The fact that she didn’t seem to be suffering any nervousness at all really bothered him. It shouldn’t, considering how upfront and honest she’d been from day one. But it did.

  “Now?”

  She waited.

  “I owe you. Big time. Cash will call you to set up a time to do an interview.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small box and shifted it back and forth between his fingers. “And, well, I guess I just had to take this chance. Elizabeth, my entire life has been carefully crafted to make sure I didn’t get hurt. Friends, family… The last thing I wanted was to be left behind, forgotten or hurt again. I’d gone down that road. And I made my choices based on protecting myself. Then I had to bring you home. Cain left… Everything was empty.”

  He shoved the box into her hands. It was small and insignificant in the grand scheme, but he hoped it would portray the extent of love, happiness and gratitude he felt for what she’d given him, and how he planned to think of her in a future he didn’t know she’d accept.

  She sat back, her eyes wide. “What’s this?”

  “Open it,” he pleaded. He didn’t have the right words, but he was going to try. “It’s the only way I can think to show you that I love you, that I need you, and that every moment we shared, and every word you ever said to me, stuck even when I was focused on not getting attached.”

  “Ian.”

  He squeezed her hands around the box. “Please. I can’t tell you how hard this is for me.”

  She nodded and pulled the ribbon free. The box was tiny, and as her hands shook, he suddenly realized what she might think it held. A promise of the future. A promise of forever…
>
  The small box held all that, but not in the way she might think. She pulled the top free as he said, “Wait. It’s not what you think.”

  But it was open. It was out there.

  Pulling the small Delhi magnet from the box, she looked up at him with bright, tear-rimmed eyes. “You remembered?”

  Her arms went around him, tears pouring down her sun-kissed cheeks. The magnet had cost him a flight and a whopping three hundred rupees. “It was five dollars, Elizabeth. Nothing too special.”

  “It is special, Ian.” She sat back, brushing the tears from her eyes. “It’s more amazing than any dozen roses, trips around the world or anything money could buy. You remembered what was important to me. And I love you too.”

  Really? Just like that?

  He shouldn’t be surprised. It was his Elizabeth. She was simple and easy, and took in every detail around her to find the good in life. “You know,” he said, pulling her into his arms, “I have no idea when I fell in love with you, but I’ve spent every day since wondering how I could have let you go, and how I was going to convince you to give us a chance.”

  “I don’t know how we’ll do it. Maybe fly around the world and come back here until we have to fly off again? I don’t have an answer, but I want to try. I want you.” She stroked his goatee, her eyes bright. “All you had to do was come back. I’ll give anything, go anywhere and come back. As long as I’m with you, and you’re happy, and you know me this way, we can make this work.”

  “I can promise to try to do all that.” He was blown away, and shaken, and euphoric. “I want you to be happy, and I swear to do my best to keep you that way.”

  She pulled him close and pressed a sinfully sweet kiss over his lips. “That’s all I want. You and your sweet attempts.”

  Mama hollered out then. “Ya’ll gonna be at it much longer? Jeopardy’s almost over and I need help. You got my stories on that fancy recordin’ thing, but I can’t remember how to watch ’em.”