Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“What are you going to do when you get back to San Diego?”
The question from Lyndie startled Griffin.
They’d been flying northwest for forty-five minutes, mostly in comfortable silence.
She’d look at him every once in a while, searching his expression for a moment, looking for what, exactly, he had no clue, but then she’d smile—a balm on wounds he hadn’t even realized he’d had.
“I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back,” he said.
“You going home?”
To South Carolina, she meant, and his parents.
To the friends Brody insisted he still had.
He glanced back at Brody, crashed out on the seat behind him and dead to the world.
Griffin still couldn’t quite believe that his lazy-bones, laid-back brother had gotten him to a fire.
The Brody he knew didn’t like to tax himself.
And yet he’d worked his ass off in Mexico this weekend, as hard as any of them. He’d changed a lot in this past year, apparently.
And so had Griffin. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.
Lyndie nodded, as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer, when, in fact, it wasn’t. If she had family alive, he doubted she’d stay away from them simply because of what they’d make her feel.
“I’d like to see them,” he said out loud for the first time, and let out a long breath. He really would like to see them.
“I bet they’d like to see you too.”
“But as for permanent roots…” He shrugged. “I’m fond of San Diego.”
“It’s a great place, and, funny thing, they have a fire department.”
He turned his head toward her, and she smiled. “You’re just too good at what you do to walk away, Griffin.”
“Actually…I’m done walking away. In every aspect of my life.”
Startled, she stared at him for a beat before looking forward again.
Yeah, that means you, he thought, just a little grimly.
What the hell. If he was back to doing the whole feeling thing, he might as well face everything head-on at once.
Including this woman, and how he felt about her, which was far, far more complicated than he’d ever intended. “And once we’re back, Lyndie—”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “No promises, okay?”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“And I’m going to keep it that way.”
Brody yawned loudly and widely as he sat up. “Nice catnap. What did I miss?”
“The pizza and beer,” Lyndie said.
“Ah, man.”
When Lyndie laughed, Brody rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, make fun of the sleepy man, but in my dreams it’s possible to get beer and pizza up here.” He looked at his brother. “You take advantage of my nap?”
“What?”
“Maybe you guys joined the mile-high club or something.”
Griffin let out a disbelieving laugh. “Just when I think you’ve grown up—”
Brody grinned. “Yeah, I know. So…did you?”
Griffin threw a magazine at him. “Go back to sleep.”
He didn’t, but mercifully, he stayed quiet, watching the scenery go by, which left Griffin with several hours of being almost alone with Lyndie. Quiet and reflective as well, they didn’t say much.
They didn’t have to. Time was nearly up, and they both knew it.
Several hours later, Griffin watched the airport runway in San Diego rise up to meet them as they came in for their landing. Griffin glanced at the still and strangely subdued Brody. “What’s up?” Griffin asked him as they taxied toward their terminal.
Brody just lifted a shoulder. Code for I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it.
“Well, isn’t that something,” Griffin muttered.
“Isn’t what something?”
“You don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you, and I’m supposed to just leave it be.”
“That’s right.”
“You never let me be,” Griffin said. “You dragged my sorry ass out of the country.”
“You needed it.”
“And what is it you need?” Griffin asked.
“Nothing.” Pure misery crossed Brody’s face. “Maybe a place that serves good drinks and has some good scenery, and I’m not talking a view of the beach.” Grabbing his bag, he got off the plane.
Griffin shook his head and pulled out his two bags from the backseats, and also Lyndie’s. When he looked up, she was standing there facing him.
“Thanks,” she said, and reached for hers. “Through customs we go.”
And yet neither of them moved. Griffin had the urge to haul her close, but he realized he wasn’t looking into the face of the woman whom he’d made love to last night and also this morning. That soft, warm, loving, laughing woman had already left him.
“Thanks for your help with the fire,” she said politely.
“Thanks for my help.” He repeated her words, even nodded agreeably, feeling anything but agreeable. “Thanks for my help?”
“Sam appreciates what you’ve done, and I—”
“I didn’t do it for Sam. Jesus, Lyndie, are we really going to do this? Just ignore everything—”
“I’ve got to check in.”
And unbelievably, she pushed past him and left the plane. He stood there for a long moment, certain they weren’t really going to leave it this way, but she didn’t come back.
Finally Brody did. He poked his head back in the door. “You coming or what?”
“Yeah. Guess I am.” He shouldered his bags, took one last look around, shook his head, and left the plane too.
Lyndie was just outside, looking over a clipboard. Griffin slowed. “I’ll meet you inside,” he said to Brody, and stepped toward her.
Distracted, she looked up. “What?”
He could only stare at her. “You can honestly say you expect me to just walk away?”
“Yes.”
Oddly deflated, he looked around them at the organized chaos of the airport while Lyndie studied her clipboard. Shaking his head, he started to do as she wanted and walk away, but got only a few feet before he whipped back around. “Damn it, I don’t know what to do with you. About you.”
“Don’t do anything.”
“Just ignore the feelings, the emotions?”
Her eyes were a little wide and more uncertain than he’d ever seen her. “Maybe…maybe I don’t have any.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked. “Is that how you do it, live so isolated and on your own? You ignore everything, including what’s going on right here, right now?”
Swallowing hard, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Well, truthfully, I’ve never had feelings or emotions such as what’s going on right here, right now.”
He felt his jaw drop at that, and without another word, she whirled on her heel and walked toward a lineman waiting for her attention.
Shocked, he stood there as she walked away.
Lyndie walked blindly toward the lineman, a little afraid she’d just walked away from the best thing ever to have happened to her.
“Need fuel?” the lineman asked.
She blinked rapidly to see around the tears making her vision shimmer. “Uh…”
“Because I can fill ‘er up for ya.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Need a wash?”
Snapping at the kid would be like kicking a puppy, so she took a deep breath. “What the hell.”
“Need a—”
“Just…give me the works, all right? Charge it to Sam’s account,” she said with grim satisfaction.
She hadn’t expected Griffin to need or want a good-bye. Foolish of her, she could see that now. He wasn’t the type of man to just walk away from anything, much less someone he cared about.
And she knew he cared about her—it’d been in every kiss, every touch, every single look they’d ever exchanged, even the last one he’d just given her.
A tear hit her cheek. Damn it, that was the last one, the very last tear she’d shed.
It wasn’t as if they’d made any promises to each other.
They’d both gone into this with their eyes wide open.
They’d sparked immediately, yes, but considering the danger element they’d faced, the adrenaline, the urgency of their situation, not to mention the forced intimacy, they’d been bound to act on those sparks.
But it was over now. Back to reality.
Head down, she hopped back up into her plane. She’d just sit here for a few moments, staring blindly at the controls if she had to, until she had herself under control. She’d sit there and…pet Lucifer, who was on her seat looking deceptively sweet and innocent as he washed his face.
But that wasn’t what caught her attention. No, it was the woman sitting next to the kitten. Nina Farrell wore the pair of jeans she’d pilfered from Lyndie, along with a bright red halter top. Her long, thick hair fell around her shoulders as she smiled broadly.
“You…stowed away on me,” Lyndie said, surprised, even though she shouldn’t have been.
“Sure did.” Nina’s grin broadened. “You were so preoccupied back in San Robledo, so concerned about saying good-bye to your firefighter that you never—”
“I was not preoccupied. I never fly preoccupied.”
“No? So you knew I’d hidden beneath the bags, then?”
“This is against immigration and customs—”
“I have my papers.” Her eyes flashed. “I’ll pass through no problem, I belong here too.”
“The point is you could have gotten me in trouble, Nina. I need to know what I have on this plane. It’s my business to know everything, including potential problems.”
Nina’s eyes were dark and spitting with temper. “Is that all I am to you, a potential problem?” She came to her feet and lifted her chin. “Fine, then. Do not you worry about a thing, I am taking my potential problematic self right on out of your way.”
“Nina—”
“I belong here. You as a pilot should have no issue with me coming along—”
“As a pilot—and I speak for the entire industry here—we sort of frown on stowaways.”
Nina shook her head. “Why are you really so angry? This is my life, not yours.”
“I’m angry because you asked me if I’d bring you, and I said no. Call me stubborn, but I hate it when people ask for my permission and then disregard it.”
“But why did you say no?” Nina stared into her eyes, which Lyndie knew were still wet. “Too many attachments on your heart?”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” And yet her heart kicked up a notch at the accusation.
“And I suppose it’s also ridiculous that you’re standing here fighting tears. Is it the ‘damn’ kitten, Lyndie? Or that damn man you just kicked right out of your life because heaven forbid you let anyone in, really in, that rigid heart of yours.”
“Okay, now you’re just pissing me off.”
“Of course I am. That’s because I am in your face telling you what is wrong with you. I’m surprised you’re not trying to kill me.”
“I’m too tired, that’s all.”
“I know.” Nina’s temper faded, and she stroked Lyndie’s cheek. “You’ve worked your ass off. You probably have no idea how much I admire you, how much I am awed by all you do for everyone else.”
“Nina—”
“I want to teach,” she said softly. “I want to teach kids in this country, kids who might not get a chance to fully understand their culture otherwise. I want to help, too, Lyndie. Don’t be mad at me anymore.”
Defeated, Lyndie sat down in her pilot’s seat. “I’m not. Go through customs, damn it. Meet me out there.”
“Thank you.” Nina came forward and gave her a hard hug. “You won’t regret this particular attachment, I promise.”
But she already did. She regretted all the “attachments” she’d collected, every last one, because with each of them came the distinct possibility of getting hurt. It scared her.
She really hated that.