My nerves rattled, I watch everyone around me as I try like hell to appear relaxed. Will she tell me to go to hell? Toss up a middle finger and call a cab? After what I did, I’d deserve it.
But I’m a different person now, and maybe she’ll see that. Maybe then, she won’t get me fired or alienated from the only family I have. My biological father may still be breathing, but the Romanos are more family than he’ll ever be. They took me in, gave me a chance when no one else would. The thought of never being able to spend time with them again…
“Well, shit,” an older woman with white hair and a cane curses and stumbles back, interrupting my steadily darkening thoughts. Instinctively, I reach out and steady her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Thank you.” Her wrinkled cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she looks up at me, then back at a man on his phone. He turns and holds up his pointer finger, telling her that she was less important than whoever he was currently laughing with.
“Busy man,” she says to me.
“Oh?”
“I’m in town for my great-grandson’s first birthday.” She smiles and reaches into her jacket pocket, withdrawing a small photo. A baby boy with two bottom teeth stares back at me, a wide smile on his chubby face.
I grin, amused that she has an actual printed photograph. “He’s cute,” I say, and she slips the photo back into her pocket.
“He is. It’s the first time I’m meeting him.”
I nod. “How long are you in town for?”
“A week. Then it’s back to Florida for me.” Her tone is sad, wistful even, and it hurts my heart.
“Florida, huh? That’s a long way.”
She nods. “It is, but I don’t want to be a burden. My family is already so busy, and Florida is nice, lots of sun.”
“So I hear,” I say with a smile despite my irritation. It is one thing if someone chooses to move away and live in a home. But to be made to feel like a burden? That is some major bullshit.
“Mom, grab your bag,” cell phone guy instructs before putting his phone back to his ear.
I stare at him, flabbergasted. Surely, he’s not fucking serious. The guy laughs obnoxiously, and I walk to the belt. “Is it that red one?” I ask, gesturing to the large suitcase with a broken handle she’d tried to grab earlier. She nods, and I reach for it. Takes me all of two seconds to grab the damn bag, and I hoist it up off the belt. Carrying it over to the asshole, I set it down at his feet and cross my arms.
“Hang on,” he mutters and pulls the phone from his ear. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you can start paying attention to what matters and get the fuck off your phone when someone needs your help.”
He eyes the bag, then me, and I practically dare him to say something else. Finally, he looks down at the woman.
“Sorry, Mom,” he mutters and reaches for her bag. “I’ll call you back,” he says into his phone and shoves it into his pocket.
Good call.
The old woman smiles at me over her shoulder as they walk away, and I wave. “Have fun this week!” I call out. Her son sends one last glare at me before they disappear into the early morning sunshine.
I can’t stand dicks like that—buried in their damn phones, not bothering to pay any attention to what is going on around them.
The glass door behind baggage claim opens, and a crowd of people walk out as more baggage slides up onto the conveyor belt. I search the faces, mostly men in business suits at this hour, and my eyes fall on a gorgeous brunette.
Clad in tight jeans and a Florida State hoodie, she has overly large, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Hair up on top of her head, some strands hang loose, dangling just past her shoulders.
The air is knocked from my lungs as I stare at her, completely in awe of the beautiful woman she has become.
Ten years. I haven’t seen her since the night of my senior graduation when she came to my party and asked…I shake my head, pushing the memory away. That night sucked ass, and reliving it is a terrible fucking idea. Especially right now.
She reaches onto the conveyor belt and hoists a black suitcase off, setting it beside her on the floor. As she turns, her gaze travels right over where I’m standing and searches the crowd of people behind me. Lips pursed, she clutches her phone and rolls her bag toward me.
I can’t blame her for not recognizing me. I’ve changed a lot in the last decade. Drugs, alcohol, regret, a divorce, and three jobs will do that to you.
A baseball cap sits low on my forehead, shadowing my eyes and giving way for the trimmed beard covering my jaw. Hands in the pockets of my jeans, I let her walk right up next to me so I can take one more moment to gather myself.
Ten years. And the last time we spent time together, everything went to shit. Here’s hoping things go better this time. Heart racing, stomach in knots, I clear my throat and swallow hard. No time like the present. “Macey?” I say as soon as she’s beside me.
Her bright smile fades the moment she realizes it’s me. Her lips flatten to a tight pink line, her dark gaze narrowing as she releases the handle of her suitcase and weaves her arms across her chest.
“What the hell are you doing here, Lincoln?”
Her sharp tone cuts right through me, but I grin, not wanting her to see the effect she has on me. “Here to give you a ride to the hospital, sweetheart,” I say as I reach down to grab the handle of her suitcase.
“No fucking thank you. And don’t call me sweetheart.” She snatches it back and glares at me. “Why would they send you? Where’s Keith?”
I bite back a retort, knowing I deserved that after everything I’ve put her and her family through. “Keith hasn’t worked for your family for six months,” I tell her. “He moved back to Wisconsin to help take care of his parents.”
“Seriously?” She searches my face for a lie, so I nod.
“Seriously.” Taking advantage of her surprise, I grasp the handle of her suitcase again and turn, pulling it behind me as I walk to the door. I don’t wait for her to start following me. If she wants her luggage back, she will.
I step into the sunshine and am greeted by the early summer air of Montana. There’s nothing like it, in my opinion. And I’ve done my fair share of traveling. Gazing at the snow-capped mountain ranges in the distance, I smile. I never grow tired of seeing them.
“Hey!” she calls after me, but I continue walking. One way or another, I’m delivering her to the hospital like I promised Maax. I owe him that and so much more.
“Lincoln!” she calls again, finally catching up to me on the crosswalk. “Keith leaving still doesn’t explain why you’re helping me with my luggage,” she says behind me as we cross the street and head into the parking garage.
“I’m helping out your gram and dad.” We reach my truck, and I lift her suitcase to put it in the bed of my restored ’67 Chevrolet C-10. Turning, I drink her in one more time. The smart-ass woman before me resembles the girl I left behind, but only physically. Every word muttered by teenage Macey dripped with affection even when I was being a major asshole. She never held anything against me. This Macey—the fire—it’s new, and I fucking love it.
“Helping them,” she says, hands on her hips.