The marrying kind, p.12
The Marrying Kind, page 12
We’d taken to having a monthly call to catch up. She loved hearing about my travels, and I loved hearing about the new beau she was falling in love with. And honestly? It was nice knowing that someone on this planet really cared to hear from me.
I’d been having this nagging feeling in the back of my mind lately, wondering who would even know if I disappeared during my travels. It was a dark thought, for sure, but every now and then, it popped into mind, and there were only two names I could think of—Cara and Austen.
Since I only spoke with Cara once a month, I’d have to be missing a long time for her to notice. I spoke to Austen way more often, though, still every few days. He’d snap a photo of some flowers or his bees, or a beer or something, and I’d send back a picture of wherever I was. It wasn’t particularly loquacious, but it suited us.
My room looked, well, like any other hotel room. That was something unexpected on my European travels, how similar all the hotels looked. I had to work to avoid staying places I recognized, like Marriotts and Hiltons and Holiday Inns. I wanted a unique experience, so I tried to find places with a little more local character.
But honestly? A hotel was a hotel.
A bed, usually a desk. Sometimes a balcony, if I was lucky. Though sometimes that balcony just overlooked a parking lot, or like one time in New York City, the rooftop of a neighboring building with air-conditioning units.
I guessed that wasn’t totally true. I’d managed to stay at a castle in Ireland, and that was pretty freaking spectacular.
“Hey, Jet Set,” Cara said, answering with the nickname she’d given me a few months back.
“Hey, pumpkin butt.”
“Why do you make me regret things I tell you?” She snorted in protest.
“I just happen to agree with Chad’s assessment that you indeed have the booty of a pumpkin.”
She groaned into the phone. “So, where in the world is Jet Set today?”
“Actually, I just got back into Munich. How are things with you and Chad? He pop the big question yet?”
“Check your messages!” She squealed, and I heard my phone ping in reply.
I hit the SPEAKER button and opened the messages app.
“Holy shit!” I screamed at the image of a giant rock on her finger. “Dang, girl. I didn’t know Chad made that kind of dough.”
I had known that Cara was a bit of a material girl, and while it wasn’t my taste, I was still going to hype it for my bestie.
“I feel so happy inside when I think about him, it feels like I might burst,” she said in a bubbly voice.
Her words were like a slap in my face because I knew that feeling too. I got quiet for a second too long, and Cara clocked me on it.
“I still can’t believe you left that sexy lumberjack.”
“He runs a business, he’s not a lumberjack, and I had to. I would never forgive myself if I just stayed put in the first place I ventured out to.”
Even though I had been tempted to, I had been wavering, talking myself out of taking this indefinite vacation. Partly because I was afraid of what traveling would really look like, what else would go wrong.
I mean, hell, if it weren’t for Austen giving me a place to stay, I might have hightailed it back to New Mexico when I realized my hotel had burned down. I might have taken that as a sign.
But the other part? That part wanted to stay in the safety of Austen’s warm cabin.
As nice as it would have been, I know I would have regretted it. There would have been a permanent question nagging in my mind about what I might have seen and done. And somber thoughts about what my parents never got the chance to do.
“Fair enough,” Cara said with a laugh.
“So, tell me about the big wedding plans. You have a date yet?”
I listened while Cara told me approximately six million specific details about her plans. Meanwhile, I unpacked my suitcase and laid out my clothes for tomorrow. Particularly, a big fluffy sweater I had just snapped up in Italy. It was so cute, and a pretty pale pink color with cream stitching.
I’d been in Europe now for seven months. It was starting to get unpleasantly cold here, but I’d learned from a woman I met at Oktoberfest that there would be a class on pottery at the museum from a student of the late world-renowned artist, Calista Baptiste. After I had looked up pictures of her stunning work, I knew I was going to brave the cold and hoof it back to Germany in December.
As Cara talked about her white-picket-fence plans, I realized that I’d seen and done so much this year that would have blown my parents’ minds. Whale-watching off the coast of Seattle, bungee-jumping in Mexico. I’d crisscrossed the United States, hiking the Grand Canyon, visiting New York City, Boston, and Washington before taking off for Europe. I’d eaten the most delicious warm croissants at a bustling café in downtown Paris.
I’d spent a beautiful sunny day wandering the lovely markets in Berlin. I’d eaten at a five-star restaurant on the River Thames. I’d bought myself a silk scarf and a bottle of expensive perfume in Milan. I’d gotten drunk on champagne and watched fireworks from my hotel balcony a few weeks ago for something called Guy Fawkes Day. It had all been amazing, spectacular, life-changing . . .
And at the very same time, I was a little jealous of Cara and her wedding plans. How happy and content she sounded. How she didn’t need to kiss the blarney stone or something equally as iconic each day to feel good, because she had something even better. Love.
Here I’d been all year experiencing things most people only dreamed of, and all I’d managed to feel was lonely. Now the holidays were around the corner, and the only place I wanted to be was six thousand miles away.
Dammit. That thought was becoming increasingly consuming, and it was getting harder to bury with the business of my adventures.
Ending the call with Cara, I knew it probably wasn’t wise to examine why I was happier at the little cottage in Kodiak Canyon than I had been any other place. I had big plans, and they wouldn’t be sidelined by a sexy mountain man and a warm fire.
I imagined Austen spending his evenings with the crew at the tavern. Noah would have entertained everyone with his guitar and his naughty lyrics. I was sure Natalie had brought some home-baked treat like pumpkin bread or lemon doughnuts. I imagined Austen’s sexy, understated smile as he enjoyed the music, the company, and the whiskey.
An unbidden thought popped into my head, and once it was there, I couldn’t shake it. I wondered if he’d indulged in more than just the desserts and the stiff drinks.
I’d always wondered if there had been something more than friendship between him and CJ. I’d noticed the way her eyes followed him when he wasn’t looking. I couldn’t blame her . . . Austen was a whole lot of man. Maybe they’d both gotten tipsy and sneaked off together. I imagined her fingers fumbling with his belt, stroking the hair on the back of his strong neck as she drew him closer. Austen’s sure and steady hands moving over her skin . . .
But jealousy wasn’t a good look on anyone, and I refused to partake in the juvenile what-ifs spinning through my brain. With a halting breath, I pushed the thoughts away.
I wasn’t with Austen—I’d made that abundantly clear to him when I left, which meant he was free to sleep with whoever he chose. No matter how much the idea of that stung. I’d been the one to push him away. I had plans, places to go and things to see.
Deciding I couldn’t sit around anymore, I grabbed my laptop and powered it on.
Being here in a foreign country where I knew no one and had nothing suddenly seemed so pointless. Back in Kodiak Canyon, I had someone who cared about me. I might not have family anymore, but I had Austen. He wanted to be my future, he’d made that abundantly clear, even after all these months apart.
Part of me knew he would welcome me back with a warm fire and a hot kiss. But the other more needy part of me wondered if perhaps he’d grown tired of waiting and moved on.
Thoughts of CJ, with her ample curves and her quick wit, popped into my head again.
Austen wasn’t going to wait around for me forever; he wanted to settle down with the right girl. But maybe he wasn’t taken yet. He was still asking me to come for Christmas. Surely, that meant there wasn’t some new girlfriend around . . . at least, I didn’t think so. He never mentioned anyone.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was searching for flights back to Colorado.
21
* * *
BACK TO WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
Ella
This was probably insane. And ten kinds of stupid.
But there I was, pressing the pedal to navigate a rented SUV up the side of a snowy mountain road in the dark cold night. Even if my brain was overthinking this at a near professional level, my body was offline, no longer taking orders from my doubt.
Soon, I was standing in front of Austen’s cabin at midnight Christmas Eve.
We hadn’t seen each other in person in almost a year, but we talked on the regular still, so that was something.
Enough to turn up unannounced in the middle of the night? No, probably not. But ask me if I cared.
I supposed he could have a woman here. There wasn’t a second car in the driveway, except my rental. But that wasn’t conclusive evidence.
Was I really going to chicken out now? I was at the door, for crying out loud. Time to put my big girl pants on. Go for the big crazy romantic gesture.
I laughed out loud to myself at the thought. Time to add big romantic gesture to my bucket list. Here goes nothing.
I raised my fist and knocked on the door. Then I practically held my breath as I shivered on the snowy steps.
My heart ping-ponged inside me as I heard the distant sound of heavy footsteps, followed by some kind of clicking sound. Then there was Austen’s figure distorted by the small square of glass, but distinctly holding a shotgun.
“Don’t shoot.” I threw my arms in the air as the door swung open and I watched Austen’s brain glitch.
“I thought you were a bear,” he croaked out.
“Do bears normally knock on the door?”
“Get in here. It’s freezing. What are you doing here?”
“Was it a mistake to come?” I asked as I stepped through the door and shook off the cold.
“God, no, I missed you. I’m just in shock.”
I breathed out a little sigh of relief at the words. He missed me. “Me too. I can’t even believe I actually came back.”
“Come warm up by the fire.”
Austen tugged me to his side just as I kicked off my boots and shucked off my coat. In a few seconds, he had the dying fire roaring again, and we sat down side by side. So close, our thighs were touching.
Damn, I wanted to grab him, hug him, kiss him, but I didn’t know what was allowed. So, first we had to talk.
“Why did you come back?” he asked.
“Well…I have some unfinished business here.”
My words seemed coy, but I was really just afraid to tell him the truth. My mind suddenly reminded me that a year is a long time. Austen could definitely reject me. But I couldn’t let that stop me.
“More adventures on your list?”
“Yes and no.”
His face twisted up. “Explain.”
“I don’t have a list this time. But I am up for an adventure.”
“What kind of adventure?”
“The kind where I move here and see how the whole being your girlfriend thing works . . .”
Austen didn’t say anything.
It was like letting a balloon go and it makes that desperate sputtering noise. That was my heart right now. He looked conflicted, and when he finally opened his mouth to respond, my heart sank all the way to my toes.
“Baby, everything inside of me would have killed to hear you say that sentence months ago, but . . .”
“But not now?”
“Not now.”
“What changed?” I asked, sounding clearly disappointed.
His tongue peeked out and licked across his lips. “Kiss me first?”
I leaned over and kissed him, and holy mackerel. Was it better than swimming with dolphins, and eating real Italian gelato, and skydiving? Yes, yes, and hell to the yes.
It took me six figures and a trip around the world, ninety-nine adventures and hundreds of lonely nights, but I finally knew, one hundred percent for damned sure, that if Austen agreed to be with me, I’d never be missing out.
In that moment, I let go of every ounce of pity I’d felt for my parents. They didn’t live a sad life—they’d lived a comfortable life. They’d lived a life full of love and peace and steadiness, of happy dinners and walks around the block, and there wasn’t one damn thing wrong with that. They probably wouldn’t have cared that they’d missed their trip to Ireland, because their love was bigger than some tourist stop.
Love was bigger than waterfalls and Spanish sunsets. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known that before, but in this moment, I did. I knew it with one thousand percent certainty.
As I swiped my tongue across Austen’s, I prayed that I would have what my parents had. The adventure of being part of a family. And I prayed I’d be with Austen.
But there was no time to talk just yet and find out my fate, because my hands were moving of their own accord, tugging at Austen’s shirt, fumbling with his pants. A year apart was a very long time, and my body was suddenly in a very big hurt.
Plus, there was still the nagging fear in my mind that he might turn me down, and if tonight was the only shot I had, I wanted to spend it in his arms. And under his body. Or on top of his body. I didn’t give a damn how he took me, just that he did. I had missed this so much. This fiery passion between us hadn’t cooled at all.
Our clothes were quickly shucked and my question answered. As Austen practically tackled me to the couch and my legs hooked around his trim hips, he met my eyes with a question. The answer was yes, of course. Yes, this is okay. His gaze stayed on mine as he freed himself from his pants and slowly pressed inside me.
“Ohmygod,” I mumbled at the welcome intrusion.
His mouth fell open as his expression turned into a look of shock. Then he crashed our lips together as his hips started to rock into me at a demanding pace.
With one hand, he wove his fingers into my hair, then caressed down my neck. He broke the kiss to watch me, like he still couldn’t believe I was actually here. He let out a gravelly sound from the back of his throat and slowed slightly, and I took over, rocking my hips, using the leverage from my hooked legs.
“Ella . . .” He groaned as if in warning, but there was no way I was stopping now.
My brain wouldn’t compute such a command. I was dizzy in the best way, drunk on Austen and the way his body was moving inside mine.
“Ella.”
Damn, my named sounded good in that broken voice.
I pushed back from him and then pressed my hands against his shoulders, and he took the hint, sitting back on the couch, his excitement flagging up to his firm abs.
Good gracious, how did I ever walk away from this man?
I stood for a moment, taking him in, standing so close our knees were touching. His shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breaths. As I shook my head, Austen’s brow cocked.
“What?” he asked, curling his hands around the back of my thighs to urge me closer.
“You,” I said, my voice surprisingly throaty. “You.”
He urged me down into his lap, where I straddled him so I could join us once more. Then we both seemed to lose it completely.
Austen hooked an arm around my back and held me close as he thrust off the couch and pounded into me. His lips brushed mine, and I inhaled his warm minty breath as I arched to meet his hips. His hands found my bottom and he gripped into me. It was going to leave marks, he was gripping so tight, and I didn’t give a damn. I wanted his marks. I wanted to be his. To be claimed by him.
Then suddenly there was lightning-hot heat racing through my spine, straight to my core, and I screamed out his name as I shuddered on top of him. He moaned in response, that sound that told me he was right there with me. His body curved and arched into me, his head resting on my shoulder, his arms holding me close like he didn’t want to let me go.
We both stayed glued like that, frozen and breathing hard, totally blissed out. My entire body tingled, and I didn’t want to break the spell.
But eventually, Austen lifted me, gently setting me beside him.
He let out a sharp exhale and scrubbed a hand down his face. “We need to talk.”
22
* * *
MAKING IT OFFICIAL
Austen
When we managed to clean ourselves up and get our clothes back on, and after I’d chugged an entire glass of water for the effort, we sat back down on the couch, and I knew I needed to be honest with Ella. Consequences be damned.
“So, about that girlfriend thing I said,” she began, looking unsure.
“We should talk about that,” I said in agreement. How the hell was I going to say all that needed to be said? This kind of thing wasn’t my strong suit. “Are you cold? Do you want another blanket? Are you hungry?”
“Austen. Say what you need to say. I can take it.” Ella fixed a determined look on her face and folded her arms across her chest.
I still couldn’t believe she was here. I also couldn’t believe I’d just fucked her on my couch.
When I let out a long breath, she snapped. “Are you seeing someone else? Did you just cheat . . .”
My face twisted in confusion, and I shook my head. “Give me a second, Ella. My brain is still catching up to you being here.”
Then it was her turn to let out a long exhale while I reveled a little in her jealousy. That boded well for me, right? The fact that she came home to me, in the middle of the night. The fact that she announced she wanted to be my girlfriend . . . that all meant something.
