Lost and Found: (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella) (12 page)

“Good. I’ll let Mr. Austin’s lawyer know you’re on the case.”

“Thank you, Mr. Van Wagoner.”

“I’ve told you to call me Pryce.”

“Thank you, Pryce.”

“And Blake, you be sure that airline knows we need you bright and early tomorrow morning. No more cancelled flights. And how about once you’re here, no more flights, period, for the next decade.” There was a long pause. “Just kidding, just kidding.” He sounded phony. “Have a nice trip home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Blake said. He turned off the phone, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. He put it in the tray between the seats then massaged the bridge of his nose.

Lydia didn’t interrupt his thoughts, and finally he said, “I may have blown any chance at partner.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ll get everything straightened out.”

Blake shook his head. “They’re not too happy with me right now.”

“They will be once you’re home and you make the sale,” Lydia said. Blake chuckled and smiled. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”

“Mr. Van Wagoner would be very offended if he knew you thought of him as a salesman.”

“Then I’m glad he didn’t hear me. I suppose if I’m going to give you a pep talk, I guess I should know a little more what I’m talking about.”

“What you said was perfect. Seriously.”

The rest of the drive to Boone was mostly quiet. Lydia even dozed off for a little while at the end, which gave Blake time to think. How was he supposed to follow Grandpa’s advice when people like Mr. Van Wagoner had his future in their hands? Blake wondered if Pryce had put in eighty hour weeks when he’d started his career. He probably had. Maybe that explained the two ex-Mrs. Van Wagoners.

Francie must have been waiting for them just inside the door because she answered before they were even through knocking. “Please, come in.”

“I could tell these were really important to you, so I want you to have them,” Blake said when they were inside the front door. “Thank you for letting me take them.”

“But your grandfather wanted you to have them. Of course I want them back, but I don’t know if I feel right taking them when he and Grandma had already made arrangements.”

“Grandpa wanted me to know what was in them, and I do now. He’d be fine with me giving them back to you. There is one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Francie looked suspicious.

“If you don’t mind, I’d really love to have the Celtics tickets. Grandpa was a huge Celtics fan, and he took my Dad to see them whenever they played the Nuggets. I know it would mean a lot to my dad to have those.”

“Oh, of course.” Francie placed the box on the entryway table and searched through the contents until she had them. “Are you sure there’s nothing else in here you want? Maybe one of the letters?”

“I have a letter he wrote to me before he died and copies of these. That’s all I need. Thank you again for letting me take them.”

“Thank you for bringing them back.” Francie patted her heart. “I’m very grateful.”

Blake felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He spent so much of his time with tasks that held little reward. But this—this felt right.

“We’d better hurry,” he said when they were back in the car. “I really can’t miss this flight.”

The drive to the airport and the wait by the gate was pleasant enough, but Blake seemed preoccupied. Lydia wondered if he regretted returning the letters to Francie or if it was the impending problems he had to deal with at work. Whatever it was, he seemed further away.

“Are you as tired as I am?” he asked when they were sitting beside each other on the plane.

“I’m pretty tired,” Lydia answered. She wondered if this was Blake’s way to politely go to sleep and eliminate the need for conversation.

It had seemed like they had a real connection the past few days, and Lydia hoped they’d see each other when they got back to Denver. She’d joked with Cambri about having a little summer fling. Could she count this as her fling when she reported back? It didn’t feel like a fling. It felt like much more and much less than a fling. More because it didn’t feel flingy. It felt real and special and important. Hadn’t they shared more than they would have if it were just a fling? But sadly, it was also less than a fling. They hadn’t held hands. Not really. And they hadn’t kissed. Could a summer fling really be a fling without a kiss? And could she think the word “fling” one more time and still take herself seriously?

Maybe when they reached Denver, she should take this little bit of bravery she’d shown over the last few days, multiply it by a thousand, and
fling
her arms around his neck and give him a kiss he wouldn’t forget. At least then she could technically count this as a real summer romance.

She sighed.

“You okay?” Blake asked.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You can sleep on my shoulder if it’s more comfortable.”

It was such a sweet gesture that of course she had to take him up on the offer. You don’t have a man who looks like Blake offer his shoulder and say no. “Thanks. I think I will.” She shifted in her seat and leaned her head against his shoulder, but there was nowhere to put her arm. If she put it on the armrest, it put her at an awkward angle. If she put it right by her side, it was wedged between her body and the armrest, and it was painful.

“Here.” Blake took her arm and looped it through his. Her hand now rested on his arm. His other hand rested on hers. “Better?”

“Much better.”
Please don’t let this be just a fling.

Even though she was tired, Lydia was sure she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Not with Blake’s hand sending shivers up her arm. Not with her cheek resting on his warm, strong shoulder.

And then she woke up. She lifted her head and looked around. The cabin was dark except for a few lights where passengers must have been reading.

“We’ll be landing in about ten minutes,” Blake said. Lydia was too embarrassed to snuggle back into his shoulder, so she leaned her head back on the seat, glad her arm was still linked through his.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked softly.

“A little.”

They sat in silence after that. Lydia tried to give herself a motivational speech. Really brave girls aren’t afraid to initiate a kiss. Just stand on your tiptoes and kiss him. Or maybe it would be more romantic to put her hand behind his neck and pull him down to her. A kiss would be the perfect ending to the last three days, and it would definitely salvage her lamentable summer. And maybe, if it was a really good kiss, it wouldn’t be an ending at all. Maybe it would be the beginning…

Don’t go there. Just think about the kiss.

The plane landed and the lights came on. The fasten seatbelt sign switched off with a bell, and Lydia reluctantly let go of Blake’s arm. The rows ahead of them disembarked, and finally it was their turn to go. Blake handed Lydia her carryon and pulled down his duffle bag. She followed him off the plane, silently cheering herself on all the way. When the portable walkway opened into the terminal, Blake slowed down to walk beside her. “My car’s in the long-term parking. Do you need a ride?”

“My brother’s fiancé is probably already here,” she said. “Thanks anyway.”
Kiss him.

“I’ll walk down with you to get your bags and help you get them to her car. That’s a lot for one person to try to manage.”

“Thanks. That’d be great.”
You can do it. Kiss him.

They stood by the carousel and waited.
Just do it. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him.

When they’d collected the bags, they walked out to the sidewalk. There was Cambri, waving to be sure Lydia had seen her. Lydia waved back.
You’re such a chicken. If you wouldn’t do it before, you won’t do it with Cambri watching.

Cambri squealed and pulled Lydia into a hug, then stepped back to look at her. “This summer’s been good for you. You look great.” Lydia looked at Blake, and they both burst out laughing. “What? Did I miss something?”

“I’ll tell you all about it in the car,” Lydia said. “This is Blake. Blake, this is Cambri.”

They shook hands, then Cambri discreetly got in the car.
This is your chance. Kiss him.

And then as her mind told her to kiss him, her hand betrayed her and she reached out to shake his hand. Blake looked surprised but he put out his hand and shook hers. “Thanks, Blake. I had a nice time.”

“Me too. Thanks for all your help.”

Then she got in the car. Lydia turned to look at Blake as Cambri signaled to pull out. He was standing there watching her, his duffle bag over his shoulder. She waved, and his look of confusion changed into a smile. Cambri pulled into traffic, and a moment later, Blake was gone.

“Who was that?” Cambri asked.

“I’m so stupid. ‘I had a nice time?’ Really? That’s what you’d say at the end of a boring date with someone you never want to see again. Not at the end of the most amazing three days of your life to someone who saved your summer and who you committed a crime for.” Lydia threw her head back against the seat.

“Whoa. Start again. I’m completely lost. What just happened?”

Lydia spent the entire drive home telling Cambri every detail of the last three days. It wasn’t until she was home that she realized she hadn’t told her anything about the three months before Sunday.

What had just happened? Blake stood on the sidewalk watching Lydia’s friend’s car leave the airport. Lydia had turned toward him, her face illuminated by the bright lights that lined the drop off and pick up area. She’d had the same look on her face that she’d had that first day when she’d told him about her failed summer. And then she’d waved. Blake waved back and smiled. She was like a bird, skittish and jumpy until she psyched herself up. He’d seen it that first day and the day of their sky dive.

Blake was disappointed. The entire flight home, he’d resisted the temptation to kiss the top of her head. He’d been wanting to kiss her since she leaped into his arms after they’d jumped, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her away. All the way home, he’d planned to pull her into a hug and kiss her goodbye at the airport.

And then she’d stuck out her hand. He should have used that hand to pull her into the hug. Or teased her and said something clever. Instead, he’d shaken her hand and said “Thanks for your help.” Thanks for your help? The last three days had been thrilling and emotional and funny and sweet. And he’d just said ‘thanks for your help.’”

It was after ten when Blake unlocked the door to his apartment. He’d turned the air conditioning down when he’d left, and the room felt too warm and stuffy. The difference between Charlotte and Denver was that in Charlotte, even the air outside was hot and muggy. In Denver, the night air was cool and refreshing and all Blake had to do was open the windows. One advantage of living in the high mile city. Blake smiled as he thought of Charlie. He couldn’t think about Charlie without thinking about Lydia and how much she’d enjoyed Charlie and those potstickers. She’d enjoyed everything.

Lydia hadn’t cowered in the corner of the plane refusing to jump. She’d willingly learned how to Segway. She’d taken a risk when it was needed at Shady Days. She wasn’t a coward at all. Somehow, she’d convinced herself she was a boring and unadventurous person, but she was wrong. He should have told her.

He would tell her. After they’d been home for a few days, and she was settled into the new school year and after the Challis-Austin deal was finalized, he’d tell her. He’d call her and they’d go out to dinner and he’d tell her how brave she was and how beautiful she was and how much he liked her. Maybe they’d skip dinner and go rock climbing or skiing. Maybe she’d want to go to a Nuggets game with him. There were so many things he wanted to do with her.

Blake didn’t even unpack. He plugged his phone in to charge and went to bed thinking of adventures he’d like to share with Lydia.