Presley has called me a couple of times in the last two weeks, though we’ve avoided the subject of Fletcher. I know she’s in a tough spot, but it seems she’s taking my side in things. Sure, I froze up about his sobriety and got defensive when he didn’t immediately agree to uproot his life and come to Denmark …
But, he told me to leave. Basically kicked me out and told me he didn’t want me around anymore.
Inside my chest, a gavel of sorrow slams down on my heart.
Fletcher was the man I was supposed to spend my life with, and it was over. I had no idea where to go from here.
Before, when I’d broken up with a guy, I’d been sad most times … but I knew I’d get over it. That there would be another, that someone better was out there for me.
Yes, we had our underlying issues, and it would have been difficult to move past them, but it’s all I wanted to do.
Because I knew that there wouldn’t be another. There was no one else better.
I met my match, and he let me go. That thought was so devastating, I had to tiptoe around it in my brain. It was like laying my hand on a white hot stove; I knew I had to gingerly grasp the idea, but splaying my palm wide on it would burn me down to the core.
And it wasn’t just Fletcher that I left. As much as I thought it wasn’t possible, I’d made a life in Fawn Hill. I got to see my best friend every day, especially when she was struggling through her infertility issues. For the first time in forever, I was part of a group, even if it was just as a girlfriend and not as a permanent member. I had a job I really liked, and I had to put in my resignation without even saying goodbye to my students. The whole thing devastated me, and I was a little shocked that I missed waking up in that rural Pennsylvania town.
Every day for the last fourteen days, I thought about going back. About flying to Fawn Hill and demanding he take me back, because I was in love with him and I knew he was in love with me. In any other situation that I really wanted to fight for someone, I probably would.
But that was the difference here, wasn’t it? Fletcher was the only man who ever truly had the power to wreck me.
And he’d done it. So, I couldn’t go back.
39
Fletcher
“Can you tell me how to get to this street?”
I point to a paper map, speaking loudly, as if the guy I’m talking to is deaf.
“Yes, just take a left down this street and it’s two blocks up,” he says in perfect English, an amused smile on his face.
He pinned me for exactly what I am … an idiot American tourist.
“Thank you.” I nod, and speed walk off in the direction he’s pointed me in.
Not that I have any idea if he’s messing with me or not. I have absolutely no international travel experience, am roaming the street of a foreign country on four hours of sleep, had thrown up no more than two hours ago on my first flight ever, and couldn’t read anything in Danish.
But I’m here, and I am determined to get to my woman.
Forrest worked his computer whiz magic and booked me a flight to Copenhagen a mere sixteen hours after the clock unveiling. Penelope had thrown together my suitcase, while Mom tucked an extra fifty bucks in my pocket … for what, I’m not sure. Maybe a bag of pretzels on the plane?
Not that I could eat. I’ve been sweating bullets the entire time, nauseous and anxious as I’ve ever been. Flying is fucking scary, how come no one ever told me that?
I tried to picture Ryan’s face the entire time and even snuck into my dirty memories to dream up that luscious body in front of me. That had kind of done the trick, and I’d drifted into turbulent sleep with thoughts of her perfect ass dancing in my head.
The directions Bowen had printed up on how to get to her office once I made it to the center of Copenhagen were completely wrong. I’ve been hopelessly wandering around for forty-five minutes, looking for some building with the name of the company she’s working on a project for. Not that the city isn’t beautiful, and I definitely want to explore when we’re all made up and have spent a couple of hours in bed … but I just want to get to her.
Finally, I spot it, the tall white building looking like some modern cube with windows that bubbled out from the concrete sides of it. I nearly get run over by three bikers as I try to cross the street, and I wonder again what this country’s fascination with bicycles is.
“I’m here to see Ryan Shea,” I say, a little frantically, to the security officer sitting behind the check-in desk.
The lobby is cavernous, with white marble everywhere, and the Dwayne Johnson lookalike, with bleach blond hair, eyes me suspiciously.
“Who?” he asks in a thick Danish accent.
I try to calm down, but he’s the only thing in the way of telling my girl that I love her.
“Ryan Shea. She’s working on a project for this company, as a consultant. Something about coding a system.”
Again the guy looks at me like he might slam my face into the marble check-in desk, or as if I might be carrying a hidden grenade. After a few beats, he picks up the phone and rambles something off in his native language.
“What did you say your name was?” he asks me.
I didn’t, which is probably why he’s looking at me so strangely, now that I think about it. “Fletcher Nash.”
He repeats my name into the phone and then says something else in Danish, and then hangs up.
Drumming my fingers on the desk, I search his face for any sign that she’s going to come down. “Well?”
“Back away from the desk, sir. You can sit on that bench over there.” The way he says it, it’s not a request.
Either I go sit down, or he’s going to break my arm or something. Stepping back, I pull my big duffel farther up my shoulder. I didn’t even bother booking a hotel when I left, thinking I’d just find something when I touched down in the city. Or, hopefully … I could stay with Ryan.
It all hung in the balance.
An elevator dings, and out she steps, her black locks piled on her head and a leather skirt cinching her waist. Fuck, why did she always have to wear leather? It really distracts me from every other thought I was trying to push out of my head.
“Fletcher?” Her jaw about drops to the floor. “I thought someone was fucking with me when they said you were down in the lobby. Wha … what are you doing here?”
I stand, suddenly feeling very awkward. Especially in front of The Rock here, who has this snide smile on his meathead face.
“Can we talk outside?” I throw my head in the direction of the door.
Ryan walks out before me, looking confused, shocked, and worried at the same time. The minute the revolving door lets us out onto the sidewalk, she turns to me.
“What are you doing in Denmark?” I think she might try to touch my arm, just to make sure this isn’t an illusion.
Ducking my head so that I can look her directly in the eyes, I shoot her straight. “I came here for you. To tell you that I’m in love with you, and I’m never letting you leave again.”
Ryan blinks, her caramel eyes trying to comprehend. “You didn’t let me leave. You told me to go.”
It’s an arrow to my heart, but one I deserve. “And I’m a fucking idiot, Ryan. I never should have said that. I was being a coward. I’ve never experienced anything outside of my hometown, it’s all I know. But the woman I love was asking me to go on the adventure of a lifetime with her, and I should have said yes. I’m here saying yes, if you’ll let me.”
“You said you’d never leave Fawn Hill.” There are tears in her voice.
“I don’t care where I live, or where the hell in the world I am. Because you are my home. Nothing is right side up in my world when you’re not with me. So, I came here. Can’t you see? I’m addicted to you. I’ve been clean and sober for five years, and one look at you and I’m back on my knees, begging for just one more taste. I can’t get enough of you, Ryan. You’re all I think about, and when I’m with you … you make me better.”
>
She swings her head away, those straight, shining locks obscuring her face from me. “I promised myself, I was taking a break. I’m scared! I’m petrified to love you, but I’m also just petrified of love. I don’t know how to do it, I have no clue how to receive it in a healthy way. Look at what happened when we tried!”
“Love isn’t just trying one time. It’s trying all the time, every single day. We let our problems overshadow everything else, we were both wrong. I’m here telling you that I want to give it all up for you. My security blanket, the safety of Fawn Hill. I thought it was the only thing that would help me stay sober … but I don’t need it anymore, I was lying to myself. You’re what I need.”
I’m pleading with her, and finally, I take her hands in mine. “I love you, Ryan Shea.”
Now the tears spill over her lower lids. “I love you, too. I’ve been so miserable, Fletcher. Leaving you … it proved that I never really loved anyone before. The way I feel about you—”
“It’s something you only get once.” I have to cut her off, tell her that I feel the exact same way. “So, let’s stop wasting time.”
She accepts by stepping into me and grabbing me behind the neck to pull my mouth to hers. All of my favorite things about her rush in; her scent, the way her lips part for me, the shape of her body in my hands.
The beat of my heart for only her.
“I can’t believe you got on a plane and flew to Denmark.” She breaks our kiss, laughing through her tears.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I relish the feel of her in my arms. “Believe me, it was not pretty. Don’t expect me to get on one anytime soon.”
Those amber eyes gaze into mine. “Guess you’re stuck here with me, then.”
“That was the whole point.” I nuzzle her nose with mine.
“So, what now?” Ryan breathes, neither of us moving to detach our embrace.
I know the perfect answer.
“Forever.”
Epilogue
Fletcher
Five Years Later
The plane lands smoothly on the runway, one that was paved two years ago.
My hand is clasped tightly around hers, mostly because she knows I don’t like takeoff or landing, but also because there is never a time I don’t want to be touching her.
The scenery outside the window looks exactly the same as it always has. Since the day I was born, I’ve seen the same trees, landscape, and people. But that all changed when she stepped into my world. Or rather, when she stepped out of it.
“You happy to be home?” Ryan turns to me, her newly cut jet-black waves billowing around her shoulders.
She’d kept it long for our wedding, the tendrils of it almost skimming her waist, but immediately after, she hacked it off to what she calls a long bob. The style resembles the one she wore when we first met, all those years ago when Presley was marrying Keaton.
My ear to ear grin must give away my excitement. “Yeah, I really am. Although, Forrest is still pissed he didn’t get to throw me a bachelor party. Not that any of my brothers really had one, so I don’t know why I was supposed to be the one to provide the stripper-fest.”
My wife chuckles. “Because your twin is jonesing for some time away from the kids. Penelope said the boys are really getting to that reckless age, and Forrest wants to keep a tight leash.”
I can’t believe that Travis is now seventeen, almost ready to graduate high school. And with Matthew just starting his freshman year, that left Ames at the pre-teen age of eleven, which also isn’t easy. So, I guess I couldn’t blame my brother.
“Very true. But it will be nice to see everyone.” I pick our interconnected hands up and kiss the back of hers.
It’s been a while since we’ve been back in Fawn Hill. After Ryan quit her job upon the competition of the Copenhagen project, about two months after I’d flown out to win her back, she decided to completely change her career. Now, she runs one of the largest nonprofit STEM training programs for kids in the world. My wife, the superstar, badass hacker, just flying around the world to teach the next generation of little coders. I’m so proud of her, but more importantly, she’s so fucking happy doing her job. It’s a sight to see.
We bounce around from country to country depending on which branch of the nonprofit needs help or re-vamping at the time, and we just spent almost six months in Madrid. Yes, I miss my family and my hometown, but seeing the world isn’t a bad trade. It’s actually pretty damn cool, and of course, I get to be with Ryan.
Someday, I know we’ll settle down, move back to Fawn Hill and live in the country. But right now, it’s her time. My job is flexible; I started my own woodworking business after settling in Denmark. I make smaller pieces, since I can’t outfit a studio in every city we move to, but I make do and have made friends in a lot of international places. I work out of other’s spaces and do what I love … I have no reason to complain.
“They’re going to try to make a big fuss about this wedding reception.” She rolls her eyes, but in a good-natured way.
To say my mother was upset about our elopement would be an understatement. Not that she doesn’t love Ryan, but the minute I finally convinced Ryan to marry me, I wasn’t about to wait a year planning a wedding. We tied the knot two weeks ago on a beach in Madrid, and it was exactly what we wanted.
We’ve had discussions over the last five years about how we didn’t know if marriage was right for us. Yes, we knew we’d be together for life, but Ryan wasn’t keen on marriage. Argued that it was just a piece of paper, and I didn’t really give a damn about a wedding. But then I’d been fooling around with making some wooden jewelry and thought wearing a wedding ring would suit me well. So I started bugging her, and it took a good eight months to convince her to get married.
“Let them. It means free food and they’ll be happy about it.” I nuzzle my face into her hair as the small crew at the Fawn Hill airport begins to open the plane door.
We soothed Mom’s bruised ego by allowing her to throw a wedding party in our honor.
“I love you, husband. I have to admit, I like the sound of it.” Ryan gives me a sassy wink.
We exit the plane, ready to haul our bags to the car, when a dull roar greets us on the grass in front of the hangar that serves as the airport.
Our entire family stands there, cheering and holding a banner that reads, “Welcome Home Newlyweds!”
Keaton and Presley’s four-year-old son, Maxwell, comes bounding towards me, as my oldest brother pushes his one-year-old twin daughters in their double stroller. They ended up doing in vitro fertilization for both of their pregnancies after trying with no luck. There had been some rough patches, one time Keaton had broken down to me on the phone, but they finally got the family they wanted.
Ryan slams into Presley, their hug going on for minutes, each one half-yelling about how much they miss the other. I hug my oldest brother and then move along the crew, fist-bumping Penelope’s boys and then hugging my twin brother while kissing Penelope on the cheek. Mom envelops me in a bear hug, wiping her eyes more than once, and then I greet Lily with a hug and smile.
Bowen stands next to her holding their son, Jeremy, who is three. Molly, now a smart aleck at six, throws me a peace sign and sticks out her tongue.
“We missed you all so much,” Ryan gushes, and by the emotion in her voice, I know she really means it.
For as much as she tries to play the lone wolf, she’s come to love my family just as much as I do. And they love her.
“Let’s get going, we’ve got ribs in the smoker. And Hattie is baking her famous raspberry pies.” Forrest rubs his stomach.
I’m amazed when Travis gets behind the wheel of one of the cars, while everyone divides into their other vehicles. I take Mom’s keys as she gets into the passenger seat of her car, and Ryan takes the back seat.
“It’s good to be home.” I breathe, taking in the air of my hometown.
Mom palms my cheek. “It’s good to have you home. Our family fe
els complete now.”
She glances in the rearview mirror at Ryan, and I know she means more than just having us back in town.
As I start the car and pull out onto the country road back into Fawn Hill, I think about how long it took to convince my wife to marry me.
Now, how long do you think it will take to wear her down about kids?
After five years together, I’ve come to know Ryan very well. I think I can find a move or two to do the trick.
Looking in the rearview, I smile knowingly at my wife. Before her, I was only keeping my head above water.
With her, I am flying … but only if she holds my hand.
Have you read Fleeting? Here is a sneak peek of book one in the Nash Brothers series! Without further ado, the first chapter of Presley and Keaton’s story …
Chapter 1
Presley
“This is probably the most embarrassing doctor’s visit I’ve ever had. And it’s not even for me.”
Looking down at my grandmother’s four-year-old dog, Chance, I try to give him my best stink-eye. It’s a well-trained expression of mine, and it must work, because his big brown eyes, at least, hold some guilt as he drags his butt on the ground.
I have to physically pull him up the brick steps by his leash and onto the porch of the veterinarian’s office, which doesn’t look like an office at all. The building that houses the pet doctor is a Victorian home, with maroon shutters and dark blue whimsical trim that makes it look more like an old-school carousel than a place to treat sick animals.
The bell over the door jingles as I turn the antique brass knob to the front door, and I’m greeted by the smell of fresh cotton and lingering dog hair.
Falter: The Nash Brothers, Book Four Page 19
