Like this is the sort of thing he does every day, he gives me a quiet, reassuring smile and threads the fingers of his left hand through the ones on my right before leaning back and closing his eyes.
Utterly astonished by the completely silent events of the last two and a half minutes, I stare open-mouthed at his relaxed posture and serene features.
How does the sexy, bad boy, prince of Folkestone, have this caring, sweet, squishy side? And how did I get lucky enough to be the recipient of it?
Shaking my head and turning my attention to the phone in my free hand, I use my thumb to navigate his downloaded songs and set them to shuffle play. His love of music rivals mine, so there’s no shortage of music for me to listen to.
The heat from the side of the muscular thigh pressed next to mine is both comforting and unnerving. I rejigger the blanket across my lap slightly and lean my head back as the opening notes of Solence’s ‘In the Dark’ float into my ears. Offering up my usual pre-flight prayers to any deities who will listen, I plant my feet and brace myself for the long five and half hour flight ahead.
With my fingers still laced tightly through Poe’s, I squeeze my eyes shut tight as we start our taxi down the runway. Miraculously they don’t open again until I’m gently nudged awake. The pilot announces our descent into San Francisco International, and I’m shocked as shit.
No panic attack? No freakout? How did I sleep the entire flight without the aid of pharmaceuticals or a knock-out punch in the head?
As if he can read my mind, Poe waggles his eyebrows at me and lifts my hand, kissing the palm softly before releasing it and looking very pleased with himself.
Landing in California feels different this time, aside from the obvious private jet thing. My traveling companions this time are people who have, very quickly, become almost like family to me, rather than dickhead drunk man-bun guy. I’m much more relaxed since the pants-shitting anxiety wasn’t present during the flight. Most of all, though, I think it has a lot to do with the fact that this time, I’m here on my terms instead of being summoned. There are still a ton of questions I need to have answered, and the only place that’s going to happen is in Folkestone.
“Are you nervous about being back?” Poe asks as he stands and pulls me to my feet beside him.
“Uh, yeah. Who wouldn’t be? But I can’t run from the shadows—my mother chose that path and look where it got her.” My hands shake slightly, folding the blanket. Not entirely sure if I should put it back in the overhead compartment or not, I settle for placing it neatly on the couch. Slipping the handles of my purse over my shoulder, I turn and step into the aisle. “I owe it to myself to find out the truth, and if it turns out Callum Torsten really is my father, there’s a score that needs to be settled, and I will take great pleasure in making him pay.”
My back to Poe, I move toward the cabin exit when suddenly his hand snakes out and pulls me back against his firm chest, and his breath feathers the air next to my ear.
“Remember the last time we were here?” he asks softly. “We need to work on your fear of flying because I want to travel everywhere with you. Recreate our first meeting in as many airports as we can find.” His naughty chuckle and the future in his words send a shiver of anticipation racing through my body, and a small sigh escapes me. He drops a kiss on the soft skin of my bare shoulder and prods me forward.
At the cabin exit, I pause at the top of the stairs, unsure who or what will be waiting for me. My breath hitches, and I feel the tears well up in my eyes when I see the familiar midnight blue Cadillac parked next to what I assume is Mr. Halliday’s car. Sprinting down the stairs, I ignore everybody around me and focus on the two people standing beside the Caddy.
The waterworks start in earnest when I throw myself at both of them and they hug me back just as exuberantly, the three of us a sobbing, grinning knot of happiness. The older man pulls back first, his smile warming my heart as he pats my cheek before walking briskly across the tarmac to retrieve my bags.
“Spry, can you grab Sunday’s too, please?” I manage to call out before my aunt nearly crushes me with the force of her hug. My tears start up again, and I wipe my sleeve under my nose, laughing lightly.
“Sorry, I’m a little crazy right now. I think I might have missed you,” I say sheepishly.
“You have no idea how much I missed you, Stella.” She steps back, holding my shoulders and searching my face. “Are you okay? What happened? How do you feel?”
Spry returns with our three duffle bags and my backpack and loads them into the trunk as Sunday joins my aunt and I. Covering Cecily’s hands with my own, I take a deep breath and give her a reassuring smile.
“I promise I’ll tell you everything, but right now, I just want to go home.”
After I spend five full minutes thanking Mr. Halliday profusely for everything, he reminds me he’ll take care of setting up my paternity test. I give him my cell number so he can let me know when the appointment is, and he leaves me with his business card. Sunday and I say goodbye to him and the guys and climb into the comfort of the Caddy’s cream-colored leather interior with my aunt.
The three of us are quiet on the ride to the Easton estate, content to just sit in companionable silence. When we pull in front of the massive stone house, Cecily asks to have a private word with Sunday, so I stay in the car while they both get out and stop a short distance away. I watch the two of them talking from the side window as Spry hands one of the duffels off to a clean-cut man in an impeccable black uniform.
If Sunday’s comically exaggerated wince is any indicator, the hug my aunt gives her is another bone-crushing one before she releases her and walks back around to the other side of the Cadillac. She slides in beside me, and my best friend trots to my window and motions for me to open it. Leaning in, she plants a smacking kiss on my cheek, making me laugh.
“Text me later, Stell. We can meet up tomorrow and figure out a plan for school on Monday since we both know how awesome that’s going to be.” The sarcasm drips from her tongue, and I can practically hear the eye roll in her voice. “Thanks for the ride, Spry. See you soon, Miss B.” She backs away from the car and turns to saunter up the entryway stairs, throwing a wave and a smile over her shoulder before disappearing into the house.
“I’m glad she was with you.” Cecily pats my hand. “She’s a really good friend.” A small smile turns the corners of my lips up, and I lean back into my seat before I answer.
“She’s the best.”
Pulling into the winding tree-lined driveway of Tweedvale Cottage is like seeing an old friend I missed more than I realized. The setting sun highlights the trees with a dark copper glow, and the shadows are falling softly in behind. Remembering how scared I was when Spry first brought me here almost a month ago is like recalling a story that happened to somebody else.
Home.
The word tiptoes in and wraps itself around my heart like it always knew the answer and was just waiting for me to catch up.
Cecily goes on ahead while I help Spry unload my bags from the cavernous trunk of the Cadillac. He carries both duffels, and I take my purse and backpack as we head upstairs to my room.
“Just drop the duffels in the closet, Spry. I’ll deal with them tomorrow.” Tossing my purse on the wingback chair and letting the backpack slide down my arm to the floor, I flop face-first onto my bed, breathing in the lavender and gardenia scent of whatever my aunt uses in the laundry. As Spry is leaving the room, I turn over and hastily sit up. “Can you please let Cecily know I’ll be down shortly? I just need a few minutes to get cleaned up.”