In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  She nodded while clearing her throat. “Oh yeah. The stuff you buy in the store is generic. It’s mediocre at best. Most of it is a blend of several different hives, so they can have the same consistency across the board.”

  Remington shifted his long frame in the seat and angled himself to face her better. Her voice settled into a soothing cadence as she answered his question.

  “Depending on the season and region, a hive produces very unique flavored and textured honey, akin to the variations in wines and cheeses.”

  “People can be honey snobs?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “Yep. Color, viscosity, sweetness, all those things can be very different. It takes a practiced tongue to catch and appreciate all the variations.”

  “A practiced tongue? I have one of those.” He drew his words out and deepened his tone with his obvious innuendo, wondering how she’d respond.

  She licked her lips, a smile stretching out on her wide mouth. “Different kind of honey.”

  “Honey’s honey, right?” he asked, liking the way the blush on her ears spread down her neck. He wondered how far it went.

  “To the passive consumer, yes.”

  Remington rubbed the stubble along his jaw as he studied her profile. “I take it you’re not a fan of the passive consumer.”

  She made a humming noise in the back of her throat as her lips twitched. “I prefer consumers who appreciate the subtlety that can exist in more complex varieties.”

  Remington’s eyes dropped to half-mast as he fought to keep himself from picturing the double entendre she’d so gloriously thrown out there for him.

  “I haven’t had honey in a while,” he said roughly.

  She glanced sideways at him. “Huh. I was not under that impression.”

  He shifted in his seat again so he was facing the front, a heavy sigh pulled out of his lungs. “I guess I haven’t had time. I’ve been fully booked, honestly.”

  He hadn’t had honey in months.

  “Maybe it’s not my place to say…” She swallowed.

  “You can say it,” he encouraged, pretty sure he knew what it was. Be choosy, take it slow, find the right…hive. This honey analogy was beginning to turn him on. He’d never look at one of those plastic bears in the store the same way again.

  “In my experience, going too long without some sweetness in your life can lead to impulsive decisions.”

  Like canceling all your plans and driving across the state?

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying maybe you should go on a date every once in a while.” She sucked in a breath and looked sideways at him. “We’re both talking about sex, right? The oral variety?”

  He barked out a surprised laugh. “Yes. We’re both talking about… that.”

  She shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s not a matter of not having anyone to ask.”

  He nodded an affirmative. “There’s a woman who goes to my gym…” he found himself saying. “She’s…gorgeous.” He looked to the sky. “I just don’t want to get distracted right now, you know?”

  “Yeah, but maybe you’re overthinking it,” she returned. “Maybe it’s exactly the kind of distraction you need. Maybe gorgeous gym chick will set your mind to rights again and you’ll be a nicer human being.”

  That was a new idea. He blinked at the windshield. “Are you trying to tell me I need to get laid? And also calling me an asshole?”

  “Yes, but I’m trying to say it nicely.”

  ***

  Lydia

  They reached Phoenix with daylight to spare and Lydia chewed on the inside of her bottom lip as she slowly slid the car’s gear shift into park. She’d put off thinking about how to handle this part of the trip for most of the 400 miles that it took to get them there.

  Inviting Rem had felt natural, having him here… that felt different.

  “Why don’t you stay in the car? This will only take a second.” She unclipped her seatbelt and unfolded from the car as quickly as she was able, not waiting for Remington to agree.

  It’s not like she had something to hide. But maybe it was a little more embarrassing than she had previously considered.

  What was it about Remington Rohan that made her second-guess everything she thought she understood about herself?

  Not that she would ever tell him that.

  “Lydia!” Sam greeted, swinging the screen door open as she approached. “Wasn’t sure I’d see you today.”

  She ignored the implication of her cousin’s statement. “I have to work, so I only have a minute.”

  Lies.

  But without the lies, she wasn’t going to be allowed to leave. Only one excuse allowed her to live in L.A. in peace.

  Work.

  So, she used it.

  She used it straight to hell.

  Sam lifted his chin to look around her at the car in the drive. “Did you bring a friend?”

  Lydia growled low in her throat before pasting an innocent smile on her face. “Do you have my possessions?”

  Sam paused at her avoidance and narrowed his eyes.

  “It’s not what you think and please don’t make a thing out of it.” Lydia stuck her hands in her back pockets and froze when she heard the car door close behind her.

  Sam stuck his hand out, reaching past her. “Hey, man.”

  “Hey,” Remington greeted, shaking her cousin’s outstretched hand.

  “Wow,” Lydia stated flatly, addressing her companion. “You can’t just once do what you’re told?”

  Remington grinned in his cocky way and her cousin’s secret, yet obvious, suspicions deepened.

  Lydia waved a hand between them. “Sam, Remington. Remington, Sam. Sam is my cousin and stealer of joy and all things good in my life. Remington is a nutrition peddler who is occasionally paid to be really, really ridiculously good looking.”

  “Good to meet you,” Remington said with a chuckle.

  “Likewise,” Sam responded as he opened the door and ushered them both inside. “You put up with her sass the whole drive here?”

  “Eh, I tune her out after a while,” Remington joked while throwing Lydia a wink.

  Yeah, because that was funny.

  Ugh, it wasn’t Remington’s fault. He was trying to be charming. There was no way for him to know she didn’t like jokes at her expense when her family was involved.

  “Look, bruhs, I gotta get back tonight, so can we get a move on?”

  “Keep your atoms from splitting, I’ll be right back.”

  Lydia snorted and crossed her arms as her cousin shuffled down his hallway. Her eyes tracked to the family photos hanging on the wall and she swallowed down the ball of emotion that always came with seeing them.

  “What are you picking up here? Not drugs, right?” Remington asked as he came up behind her.

  Lydia rolled her eyes and shot him an incredulous look. Until she realized he was partially serious. “No. Not drugs. Just something my mom promised me a while ago and finally sent.”

  To her cousin’s house in Phoenix so she could have someone she trusted give a detailed report of her appearance. It was also why she wore a sleeveless shirt. So he wouldn’t have to ask to see her arms for marks that had never existed.

  “Are you close to your family?

  “Geographically? No. Emotionally? Also, no.” She immediately regretted that she’d said that. “I don’t mean that how it sounds—”

  “Here it is.” Sam came around the corner with a green plastic tub and set it at Lydia’s feet.

  She knelt and opened the lid revealing some t-shirts, some worn out paperbacks, and the real reason she’d been coerced into one more drive to Arizona—her father’s album collection.

  “Sweet.” Lydia latched the lid and picked up the tub. “Thanks, cuz.” She headed for the door, ready to get back to a life that didn’t judge her so harshly. Or inaccurately.

  “I do enjoy these quarterly chats we have,” Sam said, following her to the front door.
“At least I get to tell your mom you’re alive and healthy. Making good choices…?”

  And there it was.

  Good was subjective.

  Not that she was going to get drawn into another ugly debate with him.

  Lydia’s jaw clenched and her left eye twitched. Thankfully she was facing the front door with Sam and Remington behind her. She didn’t turn around until she was outside on the cement step. She plastered on her sweetest, most aspartame smile.

  “Thanks for this. And you can tell everyone I’m still gainfully employed, paying my bills, and as of yet, have no criminal record.”

  Sam’s mouth opened to say something snarky but she was over it.

  The screen door slapped closed behind her. She loaded her box—containing her hostaged possessions—and began backing out of the drive before Remington even had his door closed.

  They didn’t approve because they didn’t understand. She wasn’t doing it anymore. The required check-ins, the random early morning phone calls, the need to have a fucking landline in the age of the mobile was suddenly just too much. She’d jumped through the hoops. All with the intention of placating them, thinking they’d eventually simmer down and let her live her life.

  Thinking they’d eventually see her for her. Not her father.

  But with Remington there to witness the assumptions and judgement she’d been subjected to her entire life, she was done.

  They just didn’t know it yet.

  They were twenty miles out of town before either one of them spoke.

  “So, that was tense at the end,” Remington ventured into territory she sensed made him uncomfortable. But he was trying to be a good friend.

  “They, and by ‘they’ I mean my biological family, think I’m irresponsible. That’s the short version. The long version involves them thinking I’m mentally insufficient and can’t take care of myself.”

  It hurt to say out loud. It hurt anyway, but saying it, making it real, hurt more.

  This was why Lydia spent the majority of her time with plants. They grew and pollinated and bloomed, but they didn’t question her methods.

  “Sometimes people suck, Lydia,” Remington said quietly.

  “People question everything,” she replied, twisting her stiff neck to loosen the tension trying to build there. “But not because they actually want to learn anything. They question it from a point of hardened opinion. They’re not looking to learn, they’re looking for validation of their prejudice.”

  Small drops of rain began to spatter the windshield and she blinked against the unexpected burn in her eyes. She would not cry in front of Remington.

  Vulnerability was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

  She jumped when her phone rang in the cup holder between them. Merrick’s name flashed on the screen and she cleared her throat. Remington might not know her well enough yet to read the emotions warring on her insides, but Merrick had known her long enough to hear it in her voice if she wasn’t careful.

  “Hey, Mer, what’s up?”

  “I just got a notification from the security company that the greenhouse’s system hasn’t reset since last night. Are you there?”

  Lydia groaned. That damn automation. It wasn’t worth the money Merrick had spent on it. “I’m not there but I can be in about an hour.” She glanced at her passenger. “Remington is with me, is that all right?”

  Normally, only Institute employees were allowed at the greenhouse. For security reasons.

  “Remington is with you? Excellent. I don’t like you being up there at night alone.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes and withheld a growl. She’d been up there plenty of times on her own.

  “Call me when you get there and I’ll walk you through a manual reset.”

  “Got it.”

  They disconnected and Remington chuckled in the seat beside her. “Are you kidnapping me?”

  “Only for the night.” She went to smile at him but was startled to find his eyes earnest on her in the glow of early evening. “What? Do you need to get home tonight? We’ll leave after the reset. It’ll only take an extra hour. The greenhouse isn’t that far from here anyway.”

  Merrick had called at the just the right time. She could take the next exit and it was only a thirty-minute drive into the mountains.

  “You’re going to tell me your story eventually.”

  She frowned and glanced at him quickly and then away.

  “Not yet, that’s fine. But eventually you’re going to tell me the reason behind all that fire.”

  Lydia’s stomach took an unexpected dive to the floor and her heart twisted, thudding with pain and fear and panic. She took a deep breath and forced her body to remain intact and to not suddenly turn metaphysical on her.

  She chuckled, hiding her discomfort. “Just because you’re unhealthy amounts of handsome doesn’t mean I’m going to fall all over myself for you.”

  Remington’s rich laughter echoed through the car and she felt it reverberate through her body and settle in her spine.

  It was nice. But it wasn’t okay. She couldn’t afford to let a handsome man’s laugh be her backbone.

  Because she would snap herself in half when it was time to leave.

  And with that, she turned on her music, choosing the Dead Kennedys as a way to change the subject.

  ***

  Remington

  “Hey, babies,” Lydia purred as she bent over another plant Remington couldn’t identify. She’d been greeting all the living things in the green house that way since they’d gotten there.

  Was it weird he was a bit jealous? The tender way she looked at each one, the soft words she chose, the absolute sincerity in her eyes.

  For a brief moment, he imagined her talking to him that way and his mouth went dry. That, along with their discussion about honey in the car and the lines were already too blurred for his own comfort.

  Being attracted to attractive friends was normal. As long as everything stayed friendly and no one caught feelings, he was allowed to look.

  The wind came up outside and the small building shuddered. When Lydia had talked about the green house, for some reason Remington had pictured a more industrial building, like the Institute had been. But this was a house, nestled into the side of a mountain and mostly hidden by trees. The a-frame’s floor-to-ceiling windows let in natural light. The greenhouse section was a smaller extension in the back.

  For the most part, it was all very rustic and sparse. Reminded him of Lydia’s apartment. Except for the high-tech gadgetry keeping the place running.

  “This way Merrick doesn’t have to pay someone to be out here all the time. Smoking pot,” Lydia explained as she reset the system with the passcodes Merrick had texted her.

  “Is that what was happening?”

  “Probably.”

  Remington frowned in thought as he followed her through the rooms to check on each plant individually. “Do you smoke?”

  “Not since middle school. I don’t like how it messes with my maths.”

  Huh. He’d never heard that before.

  “Are you gonna ask me if I smoke?”

  She faced him, her perplexed look measuring him up and down. “I already know you do.”

  He crossed his arms, feeling amusement crinkling his eyes. “How could you possibly know that?”

  She shook her head, as if confused by his response. “Am I wrong? It fits your personality. The surfer-skater-carefree California boy thing you got going on.”

  “Isn’t that prejudice? The exact thing you were complaining about in other people earlier?”

  Her body stiffened in response to his question and he couldn’t help the way he thrilled at it. She played herself off as this easy-going, flexible nerd. But she wasn’t. She had buttons. And finding them was his second favorite thing to pushing them.

  “But am I wrong?” she reiterated taking a step his direction.

  “That’s not the point.” He shook his head and licked his lips.
<
br />   “It kind of is,” she snapped.

  “Wait. Are you mad at me? For pointing out your own hypocrisy?”

  Her eyes widened, the lightning outside flashing and reflecting in the kaleidoscope colors. “Am I wrong?” she repeated her question, her mouth drawing into a thin line.

  “Nope,” he acquiesced with a sigh. “You’re right.”

  Her eyes narrowed and he noted her breathing had grown heavy. “I’m not like them,” she said seriously.

  He opened his mouth to respond when the lights flickered, blinked and went out.

  Thunder crashed around them, the rumble rolling through the ground and shaking the house.

  “That sucks,” Remington said flatly.

  Lydia’s movements appeared in strobe as she moved toward him through the lightning flashing outside the wide bank of windows. Her hand found his in the dark and she pulled him out of the room and down a completely black hallway.

  “Stay with me.” She took his hand and guided it to her hip. Once there, she let go and he could hear her using both of her hands to feel along the wall as they continued on. He curled both hands around her hips from behind and allowed her to guide them both. After all, he didn’t know this place as well as she did.

  He wasn’t going to tell her this (ever), but he was impressed with her take charge attitude and lack of emotional response to being plunged into complete dark while a storm raged outside. If she was afraid, she wasn’t emoting it.

  Unfortunately, this upped her attractiveness level.

  Remington found himself less concerned by the weather and mostly distracted by his hands on her slim hips and following her sweet smell through the dark. It didn’t help that their previous conversation had already gotten his blood pumping.

  Damn, he loved a good debate.

  Especially with someone who wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with him. Lydia never backed down from him when she disagreed. But she also wasn’t afraid to admit when she’d fucked up. He needed to get to that point. Of admitting his fuck-ups sooner rather than later.

  Maybe if he spent more time with her, he’d learn how.

  The idea of being with Lydia more excited him and he tightened his hold on her hips, decreasing the distance between their bodies.