I could eat a horse I’m so hungry, but I’ll wait for Reese. She’ll need sustenance.
My phone pings with a text.
Chuck The Man: 20 minutes out.
I quickly text him back, letting him know Reese’s ETA and that we’ll meet him outside of baggage claim.
Chuck has been my family’s driver as long as I can remember. We have a fleet of drivers, but Chuck is dedicated to the family. And though I love the guy like family, it hurts Dad isn’t coming himself.
He just lost the love of his life. Give the guy a break.
Yeah, okay. I’d be devastated if I lost Reese or Frankie, and I haven’t been with them for over thirty years. Haven’t really been with either of them, if you get right down to it. Not ever with Frankie, and not yet with Reese.
My love for Frankie is tied to our connection and understanding of each other’s flaws. She gets me—I get her. But she’s right, I’m not in love with her. I was in love with the idea of her, the dream I conjured in my head before proposing to her. I knew she was still in love with the devil himself—Gabriel.
I love Frankie fiercely, but she’s not my one. She was my bittersweet could-have-been.
As for Reese.
Fuck.
What I feel for that woman is hard to put into words. It’s a completely different stratosphere of emotions wrapped around a protective streak that wants to impale anyone who looks at her wrong, causes her a moment’s pain, or makes her second guess herself, and an inappropriate drive to drill her to the floor, sink into her sweet heat so deep she can taste me in the back of her throat.
Calm down, cock. That’s not going to happen, and it’s not why we’re here.
Mom.
Fuck.
I rub my chest at the idea of losing my other half after decades together, the way my dad has lost his.
If I lost Reese…
I can’t go there.
Grabbing a coffee, I forgo food and pace the gate area, waiting on the world to wake up and my Kitten’s plane to land.
Walking the jet bridge like cattle has me edging to break free from the herd and elbow my way to Rowdy. I slept most of the flight, waking in time to freshen up in the bathroom before the pilot came on asking us to prepare for landing.
I’ve only flown one other time, and after that trip, I swore I’d never do it again.
But Rowdy…
He said he needs me.
I’m like an addict, needing my next Rowdy fix.
He makes me buzz in a good way.
And… He needs me.
What else could I do but put my crazy aside to be here for him?
He needs support. I’m there, no hesitation.
Luckily, I had a window seat with no one next to me.
I didn’t make it unscathed, though.
I fought back panic more than a few times while boarding and braving a trip to the bathroom.
The rows of bodies like landmines—any second one could touch me, rub against me, jump up and bump me. I walked the aisle like a germaphobe, veering and dodging all contact, my heart racing, convinced I’d die of a heart attack before making it to my seat or the bathroom and back.
Now, I’m almost free.
Daylight beams through the open doors leading to my Shadow.
On tiptoe I stretch to see over people’s heads. I’m not short at 5’8”, but so far, I can’t see him as people disperse on the other side of the doors.
Ten feet.
I’m nearly there.
Seven feet.
No sight of him.
Five feet.
Nothing.
Two feet.
Breaching the doors, I scan left, then right.
I don’t see him.
A few more steps.
Then—
“Reese.” Rowdy prowls from the side, sweeping me up in his strong arms. Finally, I’m safe. My name is spoken, muffled, again and again as he breathes into my neck, calming my panic and stifling my gasp.
“Hold on.” He bands one arm around my waist, and I cling to his neck as he grabs my bag and carries me out of the throng of people. Stomping to a sequestered corner, my butt lands against a chrome railing, my back to the windows. He slips in between my legs and wraps around me like a privacy curtain.
He kisses along my jaw before we’re tucked into each other’s necks. His warmth is all encompassing. Our breaths erratic, our hearts beat heavy in our chests as if they’re trying to reach their other half.
“You’re here.” His voice cracks with emotion.
“Couldn’t not be.” I squeeze him tighter. “I got you.”
“God, Kitten. My mom…” he trails off. No need to finish that statement.
She’s gone.
God, his mom is gone.
And he wasn’t here. He didn’t get to say goodbye.
His shudder releases my tears. His hold has me wanting to crawl under his skin to protect the little boy who just lost his mother.
Give me your pain, I breathe into his neck.
Years later he sniffs and swipes at his eyes, glancing sheepishly at me. “We should go.”
I nod and wipe at my own tears. “Yeah, sure.”
His bag slung over his shoulder, my bag rolling behind him, he laces our hands and guides me out of the airport. Safe in his bubble, I don’t even think about avoiding people’s touch. It’s like his assuredness passes through our contact. People move out of our way, not the other way around.
As much as I hate the reason I’m here, I’m so glad I am.
He needs me, and I’m not about to let him down.
IF I THOUGHT I UNDERSTOOD THE extent of Rowdy’s family’s wealth, I was mistaken. Frankie told me they had more money than God.
I greatly underestimated God’s budget.
The sprawling mansion comes into view as Chuck—his driver—maneuvers us through the winding mile long driveway.
Could I take a picture?
The fact I want to take a picture of someone’s home…
I mean, people really live like this?
And he left?
Voluntarily?
My circumspective frown falls on my Shadow, whose smile pops out his dimples.
Be still my heart.
“We’re just as fucked up as any other family, Reese.” He motions to the house growing larger by the second. “It’s just money.”
“Only people with money say it’s just money.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Touché.”
I’ve been tucked into his side for the last hour or so as Chuck drove us from the Houston airport.
We didn’t talk.
We grabbed some food, consuming it like starved urchins, then he pulled me into his arms, kissed me once—no tongue—and fell asleep.
Amped up on caffeine, I couldn’t sleep. I just laid there in his arms, reveling in the feel of him and the simple fact that I could do it without freaking out. It’s him. I couldn’t do that with anyone else—I wouldn’t want to.
It gives me hope. He gives me hope.
Maybe I can get past my issues and be intimate with Rowdy in the truest sense. Maybe Dad didn’t ruin me for life. A shudder runs up my spine as it usually does when I think of him.
Sitting up, Rowdy pulls me into his lap. “You okay?”
His eyes seek mine, and I give them freely. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Don’t be nervous. But…” He squeezes my thigh. “Stay away from my brother. He’s an asshole to the nth degree.”