The Way Home (21 page)

For long, indulgent moments, he lost himself in the feel of her skin. In the tender kisses she pressed to his jaw. In the promise of her gentle hands that finally touched him as a lover.

Right, wrong, he couldn’t make himself care. He could only feel. For the first time since he’d climbed out of that hole in her kitchen, he quit thinking of the months of isolation in another hole—two hundred fifty-five days in that other hole—that had been both horror and haven because it provided sanctuary from the beatings and the mind games that had him begging them to do it. To just shoot him. Or hang him. Or poison him. Just do it, instead of standing him before a firing squad, or slipping a noose over his neck, or holding his head under water until he was all but drowned . . . day after day after day.

No more, no more, no more.

He would not think of that now. He was here now. He was with her now. He was safe now. And she,
oh, God
 . . . she was a sweet, giving sanctuary that eclipsed egregious suffering, obliterated pain and despair, and, in this moment, made him feel new and relevant and whole.

Whispering his name like a prayer, knowing he needed to hear it, she knelt over him and lifted her gown over her head. Starlight and black night framed her slim shoulders and narrow waist, shadowed the lush flare of her hips. Moonlight kissed her breasts, and she shivered, her abdominal muscles clenching, her perfect dark nipples peaking. Her hair fell over her shoulders, silken and sweet-smelling and seductive.

She made him breathless, weightless in body and mind. She made him believe that in this moment, life was beautiful and good, as he crushed handfuls of her hair in his hands, then filled his palms with her breasts and indulged in the sweet mercy of such incredible softness.

“I need you in my mouth,” he whispered on a low groan, and pulled her slowly toward him. With his thumb and index finger framing her breast, he guided her nipple to his mouth and suckled.

Nothing tasted this good. Nothing responded so completely. Velvet-smooth, then diamond-hard. He groaned again and feasted, aware of another level of pleasure as she untied his trousers, opened them, and took him into her hands.

He arched his hips on a gasp and pressed his erection deeper into her touch, awash in her tremulous smile, her soft eyes, and the boldness with which she caressed him.

Too much. Too good. And still he needed more. He fit his hands around her waist and eased her on top of him. She melted over him like sacred oil, fragrant and priceless and healing, as she guided him inside her.

Northern Minnesota, September

J
ess had never been a
clock watcher until Ty appeared in her life. When J.R. had deployed, orders came without warning, and he’d pack a go bag and be gone. Six or nine months later, he’d show up again. Exhausted, ten to fifteen pounds lighter, still revved from a mission he couldn’t discuss. On either end, she’d never had any heads-up or warning. And there’d been no point in marking time.

But after a three-week absence, Ty had called from Minneapolis to tell her his plane was due in the Falls in less than an hour. She hadn’t been able to keep her attention from the store clock since, as if willing it to move faster would make it do so.

“How much do you want me to mark down these shirts, boss?”

By mid-September, kids were back in school, and the families who bought store merchandise were back home settling down to normal life. Only the diehard fishermen braved the
cold weather that sometimes set in in the fall, so business had slowed. Fall markdowns were status quo.

“Go ahead and make them thirty percent off,” she told Kayla, who had also gone back to college in Duluth but came home on weekends to see her folks and to help Jess with the heavier weekend business. “Let’s move as much as we can to make room for the spring shipment.”

She went back to figuring her quarterly taxes—which seemed to come around a lot more often than quarterly, especially since revenues would be lean until spring—when her phone rang.

“How’s my favorite shopkeeper?”

Ty!
Her heart skipped. “Where are you?”

He laughed. “At Whispering Pines. Drive down. I want to show you something.”

“What are you doing at Whispering Pines?”

“Drive down,” he repeated. “I know Kayla’s there, because I already talked to her.” He hung up.

“What do you know that I don’t?” she accused Kayla.

“Loose lips sink ships. That’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

“I could fire you, you know.”

“Yeah, sure, fine. Now, get going. Only a fool would keep that man waiting.”

And only a fool would feel this giddy.

“I’m taking Bear,” she told Kayla.

“You’re going to want to leave him, OK? And don’t ask,” Kayla reminded her.

“You are so close to being out of here.”

“As if,” Kayla shot back with a grin that had Jess shaking her head.

“I’ll be back in a few.”

“Wouldn’t count on it.”

She’d had enough goading and teasing, so she grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.

A bowl of brilliant blue sky greeted her, along with an afternoon sun that warmed the crisp September air. Fall was Jess’s favorite time of year. She didn’t have to run her legs off taking care of business, the leaves were turning, and the temps hovered in the high sixties. They’d already had one unexpected killing frost, so the bugs were gone, which made jogging with Bear every morning that much more pleasant.

As she drove down Gamma Road toward Whispering Pines, she passed Brad’s guide business. A few days after Ty had left for Florida, Brad had stopped by the store and apologized. That first visit had been brief and strained. No gentle reconciliation, but he’d made the effort, and for that she gave him credit. A week later, she’d invited him to dinner, fully expecting him to turn her down. To her surprise, he’d accepted.

They’d had a good talk, both cried over J.R. and admitted that they’d been enabling each other by not letting go. It wasn’t easy for Brad, but he was finally making an effort to move on, and he’d accepted that she had a right to move on, too.

Moving on was what she was all about these days. It had taken her long enough. It had taken Ty Brown.

For every season, turn turn.

This seemed to be her season.

When she pulled into the resort five minutes later, Ty, looking like everything good and vital in the world, waited for her on the deck of the main lodge. Like her, he wore worn jeans and a lightweight flannel shirt and a jacket to accommodate the cooler weather.

“I thought your flight wasn’t due for another hour,” she said, as she stepped out of her car and headed up the deck steps.

“I may have fudged a little on the time. But let’s back up. Is that any way to greet a man who had a whole different scenario in mind—especially after that phone, um,
conversation
we had late last night?”

Despite the fact that he’d managed to make her blush, she walked into his arms and kissed him. Long and deep and thorough. “That more like what you had in mind?”

“Makes me wish I’d come straight to your apartment instead of instigating this little outing.”

“Outing?”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and walked her down the steps toward the shore. A light breeze made a rustling sound through the ash and maple leaves that had started to turn but had not yet fallen. The foliage hid all but glimpses of the water in the bay until they were almost down the hill, so the yellow float plane moored by the dock took her by surprise.

“Whose plane?” she asked when she spotted it.

“Remember when you told me about the guy in Vermillion? The one who retired? I looked him up. This is his plane.” He grinned at her.

She walked down for a closer look. “What are you doing with his plane?”

“Thinking about buying it.”

That whipped her head around toward him. “Buying it? Why would you buy it?”

“Because it’s for sale?” When that feeble reason earned a scowl, he laughed. “Planes are my thing. Come on. I want to take you up in her.”

“Oh, no. I’m not going up in that thing.”

He laughed again. “Why not?”

“For one thing, it’s a wreck. For another . . . commercial is more my style.”

“OK. The body needs a little work, I’ll give you that. But the engine’s sound. I wouldn’t suggest you go up with me unless she was perfectly safe. Heck, I flew her up here from Vermillion.”

She gave the plane another once-over. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You aren’t seriously afraid?”

What she was was horrified. Planes might be his thing, but heights had never been hers. “In a word, yes.”

“We’re going to fix that right now. Come on. Sit in her with me.”

“And you won’t take off  ?”

“Not unless you say it’s OK.”

Because she didn’t want to disappoint him and because she trusted him, she let him help her out onto the float, grabbed the wing strut, and climbed up into what could loosely be called a cockpit. She slid under the yoke in the pilot’s seat and into the shotgun seat.

He climbed in after her, shut the door, and settled in.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s a relic.” The leather in the two front seats was worn and split. The instrument panel looked like something out of World War I, and the four passenger seats in the back practically sat on the floor. “I see a lot of duct tape.”

“She’s nicely broken in.” He grinned at her horrified look. “OK. So she’s a fixer-upper. But it’s all about the engine, and the guy who owns her has kept it in excellent shape. She’s got a lot of hours, but with a bird like this, that’s a good thing.”

“Um, Ty.” She craned her neck to her left, then her right. “We seem to be floating away from the dock.”

“That’s because I cast off before I got in. Don’t worry. I’m only going to scoot around on the water, let you get a feel for how she moves.”

“And then you’re going to try to talk me into taking off.”

“That would be the plan, yeah. Relax. You’re in good hands. But you might want to buckle up.”

She was about to spout a comeback when he cranked the engine. It hiccupped and coughed, then engaged and revved like a rubber band on a bicycle spoke, before really kicking in and negating any chance of talking.

He reached above him, grabbed a pair of headsets, and handed one to her. Following his lead, she put one on, fastened the seat belt, then groped for something to hang on to as he maneuvered away from the dock and out into open water.

For several long moments, they did exactly as he’d promised. Jess couldn’t shake a mental image of a damaged dragonfly skimming along the water’s surface.

“How ya doing?” he asked into the headset.

“We’d better go back. I think I left something cooking on the stove.”

“Come on, Jess.” He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “Have a little faith. It’ll be fun.”

She pinched her eyes shut and, because it was so important to him, gave him a quick nod.

“That’s my girl!”

He didn’t give her any opportunity to change her mind. He throttled back, and the plane responded, picking up speed, and finally, with a dip in her stomach, they were airborne.

“Don’t pay any attention to the vibration,” he told her. “It’s only wind resistance. It’s all good.”

“What about the groaning?”

She heard him laugh. “I thought that was you.”

“It
is
me. Oh, my God, I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Open your eyes. Look at this view.”

On a deep breath, she forced herself to look. And while the sight of the lake with its many fingers, bays, and islands a few hundred feet below them had her gripping her handholds tighter, she had to admit, it was stunning.

Gradually, she relinquished her white-knuckle grip and, to her amazement, started enjoying the flight, even pointing out landmarks to him and discovering bays she hadn’t realized existed. That didn’t mean that every time the plane hit a little air pocket and they dropped a few feet, the butterflies didn’t take flight again.

“Do you love it?” Ty crowed through the headset.

What she loved was his excitement. “
Love
is a strong word. But yes, it’s growing on me.”

“What about me? Am I growing on you?”

Oh, yeah.
He was not only growing, he’d taken root and was flourishing.

“Depends on if you get me down from here safely.”

“I can do that,” he promised, and fifteen minutes later, after one last buzz of the lake, he did.

The pontoons kissed the surface of the lake with a swoosh of parting water in a soft-as-silk landing.

She couldn’t help but grin as he expertly taxied the little plane back to the dock and gently beached it.

“You did great, Jess.” Ty beamed at her after they’d unbuckled and stowed the headsets. “Sit tight. I want to tie up before our wake washes in and lifts her off the sand.”

He stepped out onto a pontoon, grabbed the wing strut for balance, and expertly plucked a tie line out of the water. After
securing it to the strut, he walked to the back of the pontoon and did the same.