Tripp grinned at Lexi. He tugged her toward the middle of the room, sat on the floor and lowered with her.
“I think you like this straddle position.”
Her smile warmed him, pushed him to run with his thoughts. “Ian thinks we need to sacrifice our gifts to make a final connection.”
“Emma said something similar.”
“If that’s the case, do you think they—” He waved in a circle. “—really still had it? Or was this all wishful thinking?”
“How, I don’t know, but my gut says they still had it.”
He dropped his forehead to hers.
“What’s wrong?” Lexi asked.
“I’ve got to go back to New York for a little while.” Tripp looked to their entwined fingers.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Why?”
“Finish up a business deal.” Though true, the lie tugged at his heart as if it were a new experience.
“Your sister has some serious plans for renovation here, you know? I can handle the details for you down here while you do that.”
His hands made their way to the back of her neck, tugging her forward so his lips and tongue could tease—to show her what he really meant but didn’t say. Her whole body shivered.
“Going to miss me?”
She shook her head, laughing. “I think I will.”
“That’s some mixed signals if ever I saw them.”
Lexi’s smile faded though a hint of it remained. “I keep coming back to George and Marge and how they figured it all out.”
“We’re working right now, aren’t we? Maybe that’s enough? Being together?”
“We’re beyond the scope of what the myth supposedly lets us do already. But … add in family, kids … right now, our magnets are hovering around each other, touching, playing at the edges, forced by our own hand, but they won’t stick. Something will break it, and we’ll be done. I don’t want to love a man who goes invisible because some force causes him to, whether you faked it or not.”
Tripp stiffened. “What did you say?”
She sighed. “Weren’t you listening? The magnets—”
He touched his lips to hers again. “Not that.”
She laughed against him.
“You said you don’t want to love a man—” He stopped as red seeped into her cheeks. “Do you love me, Lexi? Because if you don’t, that’s going to suck since I’ve already fallen in love with you.”
She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her lips against his neck. “Yes, I love you. I don’t understand it, the feelings, or the speed in which this has come up, but I do. I want to find a way to keep these tingles and still find myself.”
“You said you had a feeling George and Marge had. I do, too.” Tripp imagined the empty room full of maps and charts. “We’ll figure it out.”
She nodded against him. “What if this was all for show because they lost it all and the memory of giving up what they loved for each other was too much?”
• • •
Lexi noted the two stairs creaked as they walked back down. She loved the character, even the flaws in the house. Happy voices reached them from the kitchen where they found Emma and Ian with Missy—hands moving through the air, animating her words.
“Oh, good, you’re back.” Missy slid out a sketch from her case.
Lexi eyed Emma, found a raised brow and a smile facing her.
“Here’s my idea.” Missy whirled a colorful page toward Lexi. “It’s rough, but what do you think?”
Her design mimicked a kitchen of the fifties with a contemporary bent. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling, recessed lights accented aged cabinetry, and modern stainless steel appliances maintained the ambience but added the ‘modern’.
It’s exactly what I’d want.
“It’s really nice, Missy.” Lexi handed the sketch to Tripp and headed out the side door. It clanged behind her as she let go, slapping the wood a second time as someone followed.
“Lexi?” Emma’s voice reached Lexi as the breeze blew her hair to the side. “What’s going on?”
“He’s leaving.” She said it into the wind.
Emma stepped in front of her. “Yeah, Ian said. Back to New York for some business. You’re not the clingy type, though.”
“No, I know.”
“It’s the house then?”
“This is supposed to be mine, Em.
Mine
. I thought I could let it go, be happy he bought it, but he could just remodel it, resell it and leave.”
“You didn’t hear Missy say this, but she’s over the moon excited about the two of you, says you’re the best thing that ever happened to Tripp. Even Ian agrees with her. And Tripp’s the best thing that ever happened to you. He’s not going to sell your house out from under you. There’s more to you guys.”
Lexi turned to the house, reflecting on the work needed. “It’s going to take more than luck to make that happen.”
Emma rolled her eyes in a grandiose show of irritation. “Thinking the worst again.”
Hanging her head, Lexi said, “I don’t know what’s going on with me. All this talk about our connections, being the right ones for each other, him picking my house and his sister designing the exact kitchen I’d want—it’s getting to be too much—for me.”
Emma shook her head. “Wow.” She drew Lexi into a quick embrace. “I gotta tell ya, Lex, I didn’t figure you’d be so unnerved by this. You’re the one who hangs in long after you should, who tries and fails, gets up and goes after it again. Like I said from the beginning. Remember when that was?” She cocked her head. “I said take it a day at a time. Play it out and see what happens. No one said you had to jump into anything.”
“I know, but he already bought my house!”
“You told him it was his to buy.” Emma’s tone grew frustrated.
“I know. Because it showed up in my head. Damn stupid mental pictures. Some days, I don’t want this. I want it to go away. I want to be regular, average, or whatever most people are.”
Emma’s laugh gushed from her.
“What’s got you so tickled?”
“Listening to you rant. You’re so normal it’s not even funny. Your gift is an added bonus. Everyone has their ‘thing’, you know, and this is yours. For others it might be simple, like eating cheese with carrots or crushing up their pills to take medication. You get something magical. It’s just a ‘thing’.”
As Tripp stepped from the front porch, Lexi caught his gaze.
“I’m going to leave you two alone for a moment.” Emma disappeared into the house.
“Are you okay?” Tripp wrapped his arms around Lexi.
“Not really.”
“I could hear most of your conversation. Unfortunately for you, the wind carries, the walls are thin, and you weren’t very far away.” He chuckled behind her.
Dammit.
“I need to tell you something.”
Uh-oh.
“My New York trip includes a stop to see Jill.”
Lexi spun against him. “What?” She imagined her eyes blazed while fury burned her heart. “You lied to me?”
Tripp backed away, holding up his hands in surrender. “No. I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell you the full truth either.”
She whirled, jogged toward the fence line, and propped a foot on the bottom rail.
He lied because he can.
At the bump on her arm, she turned. “What’s that?”
A light coat of dust covered the top of a bible-sized book.
“Open it.” Tripp leaned on the fence, his elbows balancing on the top plant.
“Why?”
“Open the fucking book, Lexi.”
She blew, wiped off what remained on the cover, though no notations or information existed on either side. She flipped it open to the first parchment-like page. “This is old.”
Tripp’s gaze stayed focused out into the pasture. “Yup.”
“Whose is it?”
“Keep going.”
‘Keep going,’ she mouthed as she flipped the page. “Oh.”
“Yup.”
“Think it’s George’s or Marge’s?”
“Haven’t read it. I was hoping you might glean some insight from it while I’m away, so when I get back—” He turned to her. “—we can figure all this out.”
Lexi stared up into his blue eyes, intense with whatever he held back. “If you come back.”
“When, Lexi. When. It’s just business. On that, I’m telling you the absolute truth.”
His selective choice of information had already created the chink in their connection.
20
Pepperoni pizza, topped off glasses of wine, and the breeze from the open window added to the relaxed atmosphere as Missy, Emma and Lexi sat together in the middle of the farmhouse’s living room floor.
Lexi angled her body toward Missy. “I thought we said this was a girls’ night out? Why are you working?”
Missy grinned, replying without looking up from her pages. “Because I need to see and feel the house at night, too. It’s not about what something looks like during the day but the character at all times. The creaks, moans and groans. They give life to a place.”
Lexi dripped the last of the Chardonnay into her glass. “I told Tripp I love him today.”
“You what?” Both Emma and Missy said, each stopping their activity to scoot closer.
“This deserves another bottle of wine.” Emma popped open a Pinot Grigio. She poured, filling each to the center, and held one out for a toast. “To new beginnings.”
“To my brother, who finally has a woman worth her weight in diamonds.” Missy’s glass tipped to Lexi’s.
“To hope.” Lexi clinked with Emma. “What do you tell people your brother does when you meet them, Missy?” Lexi downed her wine, held her glass out for more.
“Exactly what they call it. They are retrieval experts. Someone took something from you … if you can prove it, and well, sometimes even when you can’t, they’ll get it back. Though up to now, the same person has had to tell them where it is.” At that, she nodded toward Lexi. “They won’t, however, tell their clients how they do it, and they charge an arm and a leg, house, car, you know … a lot.”
“See, Lex? Don’t limit yourself, anymore,” Emma said as she sipped.
Missy topped off her glass with the last of the first bottle. “I’m glad you brought a few. We’re going to go through this quick. What do you mean limit, Emma?”
“She doesn’t want to get into anything which crosses moral boundaries.”
“Gotcha. Keep it simple, mundane and you won’t have to worry about consequences.”
“She’s always been like that.” Emma filled her glass again. “Big sister Lexi, here, might be older by a minute, but she’s got the fortitude and stubbornness to keep herself away from anything unethical.”
Lexi slapped Emma’s foot with little force, the buzz from the wine taking away a little of her coordination. “When did he get the earring?”
Missy stretched out along the floor. “When he was eighteen. Ma wouldn’t let him before.”
“He listened to his Mom—what with his never-get-caught ability?”
“He never crossed our ma.” Missy’s head jerked back and forth. “Oh, no, that he never did. She had her ways of finding out what he was up to.” She rolled onto her stomach, taking her sketch pad with her. “How’d you figure out what you can do?”
“When I was a kid, I always just thought it was coincidence. In my teens, I figured out how to control it. By college, Emma had found the myth and we knew.”
“And your folks? They know, or just you, Emma?”
“Just me. Somehow, we knew to keep it between us.”
Missy nodded. “Tripp’s that way, too. He told me because I wouldn’t stop bugging him. Luckily, I know how to keep secrets.” She tipped her glass.
Lexi poured more wine for herself as she leaned against a wall. “And secrets are exactly what I need to know.” She tapped the journal. “Time to read, ladies.”
“You know this would be more comfortable at home, right?” Emma said before Lexi had even cracked the spine.
“But then Missy wouldn’t have gotten the feel for the house at night since she’s heading home tomorrow.”
“My biggest thanks to you both for this opportunity.” Missy’s gaze flitted from one spot to another in the room as she spoke.
“Okay,” Emma said. “Let’s hear it.”
Lexi opened the book, propping it on her knees. “This first entry is dated July fifth but no year.” She flipped through a few more pages. “Looks like they’re all like that.”
“So we won’t get a feel for time, but at least we found a season. Hot.” Emma waved a hand as if she needed to cool herself.
“So it starts off with ‘Margie.’ Aw! He had a sweet name for her.” She put a hand against her heart.
Emma pointed to the book. “Keep reading, lovesick woman.”
“Margie, my love. Every day your beauty calls to me like a butterfly to a flower in the springtime. I’ve searched for you for far too long and desire your presence in my life on a permanent basis,” Lexi read.
“So this is before they officially got together,” Emma said.
Lexi continued, “The day is bright with wonder and anticipation. I know you feel the same about me if only you would make that decision, the one that would allow us to remain together.”
Emma placed a hand on Lexi’s. “Okay, he can’t be about to tell you how, can he?”
Lexi proceeded, “Your father has given his blessing despite our young age. Your mother has, as well, though she understands what you can do far better than anyone. Your ability to be selfless in your works and deeds exceeds the maturity of your age. An old soul, one might say, with the light of youth and love in your wake.”
“They got married really young, didn’t they? Like in their teens?” Emma asked.
With a nod, Lexi carried on. “Tonight we make our promises to live a life of love and courage. To do with our abilities the best that we can and to promise to each other the best and worst of ourselves for the rest of our lives. I will love you forever, my beauty, no matter where you take us, how many adventures we have or the adversity we find. Bound forever we will be, my heart has been yours since our creation. And he signed it George.”
“For as gruff as he was when we sat down with him, he sounds full out romantic here.” Lexi bumped her head back against the wall. “You think the gruffness came with the binding to Marge? If they’re a pair like Tripp and I, she said it’s like the bound magnets. That’s it afterward. No chance to move on, ever. Think he was stuck? If—”
Emma grabbed the book, flipped pages at random. “No, I think George is jealous of you and Tripp.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re old, Lex. They’ve had years together, decades even, hell maybe centuries by the looks of them.” A small giggle erupted before Emma controlled herself again. “I’m sure as they aged, they couldn’t get around well enough to do what you guys get to do right now. And with modern technology, travel access and money, they look at the possibilities in you and Tripp and are just plain jealous.” Paper swished against itself as Emma flipped through the pages. “Listen to this. It’s a short entry: George and I returned from a trip to Paris. It has been my dream to visit that city, to experience life there. Mara stayed with friends for our eleven-day excursion. She was happy to be free of her parents. I laugh, though I would have loved to take her with us. Our time on the ship was spent in exquisite splendor in each other’s arms. The ship’s captain even lost his cap thanks to a mischievous child. George and I took the advantage to find it for him—a small, but exciting moment. I look forward to at least a few more years of this.”
“See?” Emma handed the journal back to Lexi. “They were still at it. Maybe in a smaller way because they didn’t have all the resources you do, but they were.”
“Who’s Mara?” Missy scooted close to Lexi’s feet.
“Their daughter. Marge had all sorts of pictures throughout this room of her.” Lexi waved her arms as if to encompass the space.
“And she didn’t get the gift passed on? Or did she?”
“Who knows? I don’t even know how I got it.” Lexi took the journal back. “No one, that I have found, understands what Tripp or I can or can’t do in its entirety. We don’t have the condensed or even full version of the Mayo Clinic’s medical journal for people with ties to Zeus’s paradox. Just a star emblazoned on our skin.”
“You read more. I gotta pee.” Emma’s laugh carried as she walked away.
Missy waved her papers at them. “And I’ve got some first floor sketches I want to refine.”
Lexi opened to the second entry. She read it and turned the page to the third and fourth, continuing on as her sister and Missy chatted, poured more wine and finished off the cold pizza. A quarter of the way through, the tone changed, a saddness overtaking it.
January 20th — The doctor has confirmed that I will never have children.
She skimmed pages as she pressed forward.
May 14th — I’ve found my love. Mara has joined George and me. I only wish, for her sake, it could have been another way.
Oh, god.
Lexi reached for Emma as she walked back in, waving her hand until she wondered if it would fall off her arm. “Emma!”
“What?”
“Please read this.”
Emma slid down the wall next to Lexi as she took the book. Her eyes followed each line through the first, second and third pages. “Oh, my god, Lex.” Emma slapped the journal against Lexi’s thigh. “Does this imply what I think it does?”
“I don’t know. What … do you think it means?”
“This makes it look like she kidnapped a baby, Lex. She couldn’t have any of her own, so she took Mara?”
• • •
The rush of cars, horns, blares and sounds of the city woke Tripp. He stretched under the covers, turned to the empty space next to him and heaved a sigh. Morning meant one last ditch attempt to fend off Jill. He and Ian decided to part ways for the day, to give Ian time to dig further into the job they’d done for Jack Sloan. His first step included verification of the information provided by their sources and the formulation of a plan—in case Tripp’s failed.
He moved to his closet, eyed a few of his suits and jackets, polos and khakis Jill purchased on his behalf. Instead, he opted for his favorites: jeans and T-shirt. On the floor, a selection of shoes, again from Jill, beckoned to him. He slipped on his loafers. Since Lexi’s interruption in his life, he’d found himself again—in attire and purpose. Ian saw it. Missy even did in the brief time they’d spent together.
Tripp chuckled at thoughts of Missy-the-whirlwind. Not only did she find out about the house, she made the drive down.
He walked through his New York apartment—a space made for a bachelor with a TV near the fridge, couches aligned for the best skyline view of the city and his flat screen. Though the design touches all came from his sister, she’d met all his criteria, too.
The thought of Lexi’s smile—a genuine, love-filled expression—brought him back to the farmhouse. Different than the space in which he stood, he had more a sense of ‘home’ there than in the one he’d lived for ten years.
When his cell buzzed, Tripp checked the caller ID and discarded it as a wrong number when he didn’t recognize it. He grabbed his keys, headed down the twenty flights via the elevator and out the front door. One cab ride later, at nine sharp, he arrived at the Sloan Building, where, at the top, Jill’s penthouse—decorated by top designers that did not include his sister—waited to suck him in.
“Hey, Calvin.” Tripp passed through the open glass door as his cell buzzed for voice mail.
“Mornin’, Mr. Fox.”
He’d miss the banter, if nothing else, because he’d come to know Calvin and his family a little. After Tripp keyed in his code, he checked his cell as the elevator whisked him up. With no signal—probably due to his metal enclosure—he stuck his phone back in his pocket.
As soon as the double doors opened, Jill jumped into his arms, pinching his sore side as if she’d forgotten he’d been shot. Lexi always took one extra second to make sure she grabbed or pushed away from his arm.
“Ow.”
“Oh, sorry, baby.” She rubbed her hands up his chest on the wrong side again as if she didn’t even know where he’d been shot. “I’ve missed you so much.” Her lips found his, and while she nipped, he stayed still, refusing to reciprocate. “You must’ve had a long trip.” She tugged Tripp’s hand, leading him into her immaculate living space.
White couches sat against taupe walls. Crystal vases full of fresh flowers decorated throughout the room.
Jill sat, pulling Tripp down to one of the seats and snuggled up to him. “So, I have the church booked. My mother is planning a true engagement party for us—”
Tripp let himself soak in the money thrown around the space. He had plenty and could live without another job for as long as he wanted, though if Sloan had his say, he’d be fighting battles to keep it or living in one of Sloan’s jails.
“—and then we’ve got to choose the flowers. I told my mother I’d let you make that decision—”
The billionaire—or so said Forbes in their latest review—designed and built hundreds of the incarceration facilities throughout the country.
“Or do you want me to?”
“I want roses,” Tripp said ignoring her question.
“No, honey, you’re not listening. Roses are so mundane—old school. Orchids and—”
She rattled on while his mind wandered to Lexi’s lie about the flower shop. She’d said a rose was her choice. He believed she’d told him the truth.
“No, Jill, I want roses and farmhouses and maybe even a cow that moos in the middle of the afternoon before it sinks to the ground and takes a nap.” Tripp stood, moved to the full wall of windows. “And I want the smells of the country—”
“Well, we could go to France for our honeymoon, stay in an inn somewhere in the northern area. It’s more remote there.”
He turned to her with a plan to make her listen—if for the first time ever. Her eyes reflected not a bit of her education, but all her upbringing—a daddy’s girl who lived off her father, never taking a chance on herself. His sense of pity overtook him as he ran his hands up and down her arms.
“You’re confusing me, Tripp.”
Tripp internalized the sigh, lowering himself to her eye level so she had nowhere else to look. “Jill?”
She smiled, an excited, giddy expression, which meant she picked up on none of his vibes nor any of the words he’d left her with before.
“What would you say if I told you I stole art, jewels and even money from people?”
She laid a light slap against his chest. “How silly are you? You’re a recovery expert. You return stuff. It’s not stealing.”
“But what if I told you I did?”
“I’d say you’re lying to tease me.” Despite the statement, she stepped away.