“Something like that,” he rasped.
“I get it, Dad,” the boy replied. “When I got the highest marks on my spelling test, Auntie Calliope and Auntie Callista took me to the London Eye, and I got to go way up high and see all of London and eat as much sticky toffee pudding as I wanted.”
“Yeah, Sebastian, but Mibby and I might be gone a few days.” He checked on Briggs. The agent had his mobile pressed to his ear.
“Will you be back for my donkey birthday party?” the boy asked, his joyful demeanor fading.
“Yes, absolutely,” he answered, taking a knee to be at eye level with the boy. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Then I think you should go. If you want to do something for Mibby, you should do it.”
“Briggs?” he called.
“It’s coming together,” the man answered, then turned to continue his hushed conversation.
Raz scanned the group and zeroed in on his trainer. “I know this seems crazy, but I need a little time off, Aug.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Try to fit in a visit with a shrink, if you can work it in,” the man answered, but there was a thread of Aug’s wry humor in the reply.
He chuckled, nodding to his mentor. “It must be the mountain air.”
Was it completely ludicrous to do something so extreme, so close to his upcoming fight? Yes, of course, it was. But he’d be even worse off if he didn’t. He had to act. Maybe it was the vortex, or perhaps it was what his heart had been trying to tell him since he set eyes on the woman, but he had to do this.
“Gran, do you mind keeping an eye on Sebastian for a few days?”
“We’ll be fine, lad. Do what you need to do,” she answered.
He exhaled a heavy breath.
Was that it? Were there any other loose ends?
“The donkeys!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t leave them here.
Sebastian stepped forward, shoulders back. His son lifted his chin like a kid-sized captain of industry. “I can take care of the donkeys, and I can bring them home. I know the way up the trail.”
He had a damned great kid.
“We’ll go with Sebastian and lend a helping hand,” Mitch added as Oscar and Sebastian high-fived each other.
Raz came to his feet. “Okay, the donkeys are sorted. Now, I need a car. We walked here with the burros.”
“Take mine,” Landon offered, throwing him the keys. “It’s the black Porsche. It’s parked down the block.”
“Thanks, mate,” he replied, then eyed Briggs. “Are we good?”
“Part one is ready,” the man added, glancing at one of his assistant’s mobiles. “We’re working on the destination location. Does it have to be exactly where you described?”
He held his agent’s gaze. “To the letter.”
“We’ll get it done,” the man answered, then checked his watch. “And you better get on it. Part one is on its way.”
“Got it. Thank you,” he answered, then turned to the group. “I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Are you sure about this?” Augie asked.
“There’s no other way, Augie.”
There wasn’t. He’d be a bloody wreck if he didn’t at least try to stop what he’d put into motion.
He ruffled his son’s ash brown hair and inhaled a few shallow sips of air. It was as if he were in withdrawal. His limbs shook. His heart hammered in his chest. He left the square, sprinting down the block, and found the Porsche. Throwing himself into the front seat, he pressed the ignition and hit the gas. Flying through downtown Rickety Rock, he formulated a plan.
Step one: Flowers
Step two: Drive to the lookout on Rickety Rock Mountain
Step three: Hand Libby the flowers, throw her over his shoulder and disappear into the sunset
Bollocks! This sounded more like a kidnapping than a romantic gesture.
It didn’t matter. He had to get to her and put the kibosh on the final benchmark. He’d work out the rest along the way.
He turned off the road and tore down the drive. Gravel and rock scattered as he pulled up to the Victorian and threw the car into park. His pulse racing, he swung open the car door and lost his footing as he attempted to extricate himself from the sports car. He hit the ground with a thud. Rocks cut into his knees as he crawled a few feet before pushing up and dashing toward the barn.
“Flowers, flowers, flowers,” he muttered, ripping the blue-violet larkspurs from the ground. Root and all, he worked furiously. Mud and bits of earth fell to the ground, and dirt stuck to his legs. He reached for another wildflower when a door slammed.
“Why are you digging up the yard?”
He looked over his shoulder and couldn’t believe his eyes. “Libby, is that you?”
“Are you okay, Raz?” she asked with a crease to her brow.
He glanced from his dirt-covered hands to his clothing dusted with mud. He must look like he’d gone mental. Then it clicked. She was here—and not with Mr. Benchmark.
“Where’s Dougie?” he sputtered.
She glanced down the drive. “On his way to visit his brother in Denver.”
Denver?
His heart was ready to beat itself out of his chest. “What happened to the plans you made with him?”
“I changed my mind and asked him to bring me home—back to the Victorian.”
It took everything he had in him not to dance around and pump his fist in the air.
“Why are you decimating the larkspurs, Raz?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
Hope and joy washed over him.
“I came to pick some flowers for you. You like these. You like the color. It’s our color.”
She stared at him. “It is.”
He took a step toward her as a blue-violet hue surrounded them. “Why aren’t you with Doug?”
He had to ask. He had to hear her say it.
“I don’t want to be with Doug,” she answered, taking a step toward him. “The benchmark is—”
“Total bullshit,” he supplied.
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “Yeah.”
He closed the distance between them. “I don’t want you with Doug or anyone else.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” he answered, then he caught sight of one of the stone stacks Sebastian had built. “Those rock stacks tell us when we’re on the right trail. But I’m here to tell you that every path is the right path for me as long as I walk it with you.”
“Do you mean that?” she asked, her gaze swimming with questions.
He handed her the mess of wildflowers. “I want you. I don’t know who I am without you, plum. I don’t want to go back to the pain. I want to live in this safe space with you and Sebastian—a place where nothing hurts, a place where nothing can touch us. And the donkey knows, plum. He knows, and that’s why I can’t let you go.”
That crease returned to her brow. “I was right there with you until the donkey part.”
“Beefcake knows that Plum is meant for him, just like I know you’re meant for me. I want you, Libby. I can barely breathe without you.”
She smiled up at him with tears in her eyes. “I think this is the part where you kiss me.”