In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  He rubbed his beard thoughtfully as things started to resurface. The way he looked at the past compared to the facts.

  “Cressida was the one and only human being in the world I was definitively in love with. My heart beat for her. I loved her more than I loved my own breath.”

  He stopped talking to take a deep breath.

  “And I wrecked that too. Broke it all to hell.”

  He still couldn’t listen to A Great Big World. Not without feeling his heart rip in two.

  “That’s what I do. I find something I love. And I destroy it.”

  When his gaze traveled back to Lydia, her eyes were glossed over with tears.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  Remington’s own eyes began to burn. “I couldn’t love her like she deserved. I wanted to. But she needed someone—someone not me.”

  It had been ages since he’d talked about why things hadn’t worked with Cressida. He didn’t even like to think about it because it only made him feel guilty and inadequate.

  A tear tracked down Lydia’s cheek. “How do you know that?”

  “I just know,” he said matter of fact. “I wasn’t good for her back then. I was young and impetuous. Maybe now. Maybe. If I met her now. If we started now. Maybe.” He cleared the thickness from his throat. “But I know that’s not true. I haven’t changed. Not in the way I would need to.”

  “What way is that?”

  He sighed loudly. This was a conversation he’d had with women many times. It was always off-putting and they generally argued or disagreed with him. It was a quality to his personality that he never “grew out of” like the people he’d dated told him he needed to.

  “I don’t think I can be monogamous.” He shrugged, letting his words be what they were. “I’ve never cheated, don’t get me wrong. But I do struggle with thinking forever, with the same person, is something I can do. And I am well-aware that isn’t exactly what solid relationships are founded on.”

  Lydia’s lips twitched with a small smile and she wiped her eyes. He waited for her response. Mostly because he knew that even if she said what everyone else had always said, she would say it in her own unique way. And maybe this time something in him would bend.

  “I don’t think monogamy is natural,” she said, tapping one finger on the bend in her leg before lifting her eyes to his.

  “What?” He sounded like an idiot. He knew that. But he needed her to repeat her words.

  “I don’t think monogamy is natural. Promising to never be tempted or curious or human isn’t realistic.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and dropped her eyes back to her hands. “That’s not to say I don’t think monogamy exists. But I don’t think it should be forced. Making someone promise something like that is trying to fit a wolf in a dog crate. It won’t work out for anybody.”

  Yes.

  Exactly.

  Remington closed his eyes, the rush of someone finally getting it filled his lungs with new confidence.

  “But, and this is the tricky part,” she said, her hazel eyes darting up to him in earnest. “I believe monogamy, commitment to another person, is the hardest and most important choice a person can make. Being able to keep that promise is a daily action. It’s built on trust and love and friendship. But it’s not easy. And it’s not natural. To love someone is an act of faith.”

  He held her eyes for a beat, the tattoo on his shoulder that said Faith in love burned on his skin. What she was saying made sense. But he just wasn’t there yet. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

  Huffing another humorless laugh, he rubbed his jawline in frustration. “Well, maybe I really am broken.”

  “Nope.” Lydia shook her head and took a deep breath. “Too much nitrogen in the soil can prevent roses from blooming. Often, they need to be transferred to a healthier location to get the nutrients they crave. Because only healthy roses produce blooms. However, you can get a rose bush that grows to insane heights and be super green and leafy, but no blooms.”

  Remington smiled. “What are you telling me?”

  “I think you need fertilizer.”

  He closed his eyes as his smile turned into deep laughter.

  “How do you do that?” he asked. “You reach me, even when I think I’m out of reach.”

  She crawled across the floor until she was in front of him. He spread his legs apart so she fit between them as she raised up on her knees. Her hand gently touched his cheek and she smiled, her warmth reaching her eyes.

  “You’re the one who gave me the telescope, dummy.”

  He scanned her beautiful face, his eyes landing on her lips one, two, three times.

  How? How had he missed her?

  Every time he looked at her, she was more gorgeous than before. Perhaps it was her soul leaking out of her a little at a time.

  She grinned and patted his cheek before standing up.

  “Go get ready. I’m gonna check for bed bugs.”

  Remington stood and before he’d made it to the bathroom door, she’d whipped the comforter off and tossed in the corner of the room.

  What a nerd.

  Remington scratched the back of his head and blinked heavily. He wanted to stay and watch her be weird, but he just shook his head and went into the bathroom.

  When he finished and came back into the room, she was standing at the side of the bed.

  Waiting.

  Remington hit the lights and went to the opposite.

  Thunder rumbled through the ground. The storm that had been in the distance had arrived. Lightning flashed across the room and lit up Lydia like a dark angel.

  He was briefly reminded of the Valkyrie tattoo on his back.

  All they had shared and experienced during their short but intense friendship seemed to hover in the air between them. Connecting them.

  “I don’t want to sleep head-to-toe tonight,” he declared, his voice rougher than he expected.

  Lydia licked her lips and nodded. Then she undid her jeans and let them drop to the floor.

  Remington did the same, holding her eyes.

  She took off her hoodie and dropped it beside her pants. Leaving her in a white tank top and blue cotton panties.

  Remington slipped off his long-sleeve tee, leaving him in dark gray boxers.

  Her eyes traveled over his bare chest, skating over his tattoos, down to his waist, legs, and back up again. They didn't reveal anything. He was accustomed to seeing the hunger and appreciation in a woman's eyes when they observed his naked form.

  Not to sound arrogant, but Remington knew he looked good. He worked out daily, had built his body into what he wanted it to be, fed it properly and had been rewarded for his efforts. His biceps were large enough to piss off clothing designers but he didn't care. He liked the way they cut and curved and displayed his hard work. His chest was wide and muscled, matching his back and traps, they tapered to visible abs and small waist, where the muscle flared again for his legs and glutes.

  Every muscle in his body was worked and grown continuously. Successfully.

  But the way Lydia looked at him didn't declare female appreciation.

  It was more personal.

  Like she was observing the night sky. Cataloguing him the way she did her star maps.

  She reached behind her and slid her hands under the hem of her tank top. Her eyes dropped to the bed as she unclipped her bra and then slid the straps off her arms and pulled the garment out from under the shirt. Adding it to the pile of clothes at her feet.

  Slowly, her eyes came back to him, and even in the dark of the room he saw the spark of the bronze shimmer. Like a candle in a dark room. A gold flame only visible when the rest of the lights were gone.

  Lightning flashed outside, but the room only caught parts of it. Mostly in the halo of her hair and the glow of her soft skin.

  The thunder shook the room in conjunction with the declaration in Remington's chest.

  Mine.

  If he could ask for one thing
for the rest of his life. It would be to see her this way forever. An undiscovered element. Comet pieces and stardust lighting up the room and his life.

  Mine.

  Remington forced himself to move then. He entered the bed on his side, getting under the top sheet and resting his head on the pillow.

  Lydia’s lips twitched and puckered, the only physical tell that she was thinking. Otherwise, her face was unreadable.

  Finally, she joined him under the covers, filling them with warmth and electricity. The kind that frightened him, but also made him want to reach out and touch it. Just like a foolish kid.

  She adjusted her shoulders and pulled her hair out from under her head. Eventually, she settled into unmoving silence.

  Remington hesitated for about a half a minute before sleep threatened to claim him. He turned on his side and curled his larger body around hers. He used one arm to pull her against his heat. She didn't resist. Instead, her soft curves melted against his hard planes.

  Just overwhelm me.

  It was a startling plea. It crashed through his mind quietly as he felt her body release itself into deep slumber against him.

  He didn't own her. He couldn’t.

  That was the logical thought.

  Mine.

  That was the emotional one.

  But right before he drifted off to sleep... a sleep unlike any in his life, his heart beat out a single declaration it had never uttered before.

  Hers.

  Chapter 16

  Close Your Eyes

  Lydia

  Her heart.

  Its beats were louder than usual.

  Lydia took a slow breath and stretched her legs.

  But they were tangled with heavy, larger legs.

  She smiled, burrowing her face into Remington’s chest.

  His arms surrounded her more fully, pulling her deeper into their cocoon of warmth.

  The snuggle was real.

  It wasn’t that her heart was beating louder. It was beating in stereo.

  Hers.

  His.

  Remington Rohan.

  The man with the beard who rode his white horse at full speed towards a sunrise in the wrong direction.

  No longer a stranger. No longer this enigmatic pretty face she couldn’t look at directly.

  They’d shared a bed multiple times, though always sleeping head-to-toe. A rule she didn’t compromise with a man like this because she’d always known from the beginning that if she gave him space of any kind, he would fill it.

  And he had

  She was surrounded by his warmth, his skin, his smell. Almost like waking up cradled in the arms of a world on fire.

  She’d finally managed to hitch a ride on a comet.

  “You sing in your sleep.”

  “I sing when I’m happy.” She smiled and took a deep breath of his scent—heat and masculine energy. “You are so warm. I could become addicted to this easily,” she murmured into his chest. She'd been addicted to a lot less far more easily.

  “Can't say I would complain.” He ran a hand up her spine to her hair where his fingers slid in and he palmed the back of her head, holding her close.

  Remington's other hand flattened against the small of her back, his fingers fanning out under her shirt. Every point of contact with his skin, a small fire she wanted to stoke until it burned a brand into her permanently.

  His fingers flexed into her skin. “Do you regret coming with me?”

  “No.”

  He grunted in surprise, and she half-expected him to argue with her about it.

  Instead, Remington used the hand in her hair to arch her head back so he could have her eyes. The light filtering through the thin curtains in their room landed on their faces and she scanned the red highlights in his thick beard before falling headlong into bronze colored irises. Gold and green flecks spiraled through the brown, making his eyes seem as though they were better suited to a wild animal than a human being.

  His eyes drifted to her mouth and she watched his pupils expand. His gaze darted back up to hers and he offered a small, unsure smile.

  The rapid shift from emotion to thought to emotion excited her. The ease with which she could hear him made her heart climb around her rib cage like it was a jungle gym.

  “I care about you,” he said, voice low, whispered. His gaze traveled to her forehead and he blinked slowly, his unsure smile turning wistful. Light, rough fingers moved her long bangs away from her face. “But even without trying, I leave scars.”

  Lydia’s heart expanded to twice its size—no. That wasn’t right. It opened. Instead of a crack in the wall, it blew open like the side of a wooden vessel being attacked by pirates.

  Or a scoundrel.

  She knew what he was saying. No promises.

  His eyes dropped to her mouth again. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  “It’s me, Rem. Just me. No more, no less.” She took advantage of his perplexed pause to push free from his arms and head toward the bathroom.

  “I’m starving. Maybe you can buy me breakfast,” she suggested without glancing back at him.

  When she came back out, Remington was sitting on the edge of the bed in all his majestic shirtless glory. His hair stood up on one side from his sleep, adding to his boyish charm. She crossed her arms and leaned one side of her body against the wall.

  His eyes scanned her from head to toe with a frown. He shook his head in dismay.

  “Something on your mind?” she asked, already pretty sure what he was going to say.

  “You don’t believe me,” he said, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. “Which is my fault. You know me so well, you automatically dismiss any compliment I give.”

  She rolled her eyes but tried to do it gently. “It’s not that simple. I think you mean it. In the moment. But I’m not...”

  “Not what?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

  Lydia glanced at the ceiling, searching for the right words. “I’m your friend. First. Always. No matter what. And…” She licked her lips and emphasized her next sentence with another eye roll. “I don’t need to be told you think I’m gorgeous in order to believe you’re only looking at me. I don’t require that kind of validation.”

  His shoulders straightened and his lips parted as his eyebrows dipped.

  She blinked lazily and smiled at him in the same manner. “I do know you. So well. If we’re together, you’re here. With me. Not somewhere else.”

  It happened to be a part of him she had admired long before she even liked him as a human being. The ability to give undivided attention to the person you were with was so rare and impossible it had become a reoccurring meme. But Remington remained engaged in the person he was with. In the moment.

  It wasn’t just a cliché spouted at his seminars and in over-shared internet posts.

  The man truly lived in the moment.

  Lydia crossed the small distance between them and sat beside him on the edge of the bed—still in her panties and tank top. It didn’t matter. The lack of clothing between them was a metaphor for the lack of walls between their worlds.

  “Ready for a confession?” she asked.

  He nodded once in response.

  She took a deep breath and stretched her legs out in front of her, pointing her toes. “I used to wonder what it would be like to have your undivided attention. The weight of all you’ve been through, all you know—measuring me, hearing me.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Seeing me.”

  Remington turned the upper part of his body her direction and put a fist to the bed behind her. The gold in his eyes glowed with intensity as he silently demanded eye contact.

  “And now that you’ve felt it?”

  She held his dangerous gaze without repentance.

  “It’s more.”

  More than she could have ever prepared for. And more than she deserved. And so much more.

  He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and his eyes flicked to her lips. “I’m a ship on
fire, Lydia,” he warned carefully.

  “I know. But you’re the one I wanna sink with.”

  ***

  Remington

  Remington slid his arms into the sleeves of his leather coat and pulled the collar up his neck to combat the crisp chill of the morning after a thunderstorm.

  February was warmer in SoCal.

  Maybe that was the problem.

  He’d been warm for too long.

  The brisk air swirled around him and he took a deep breath of the fresh taste. The world around him had been washed clean last night. He felt it down to his bones. The dirt that had been building and gathering on the edges and corners of his soul was gone. Vanished. Carried away by midnight confessions and waking up to a true beauty.

  He pulled the door open to the small convenience store across from the motel they’d spent the night in.

  A night he was beginning to think may have been the most important of his life.

  Images of her eyes and hair and skin played on a constant loop in his mind. The feel of her in his arms burned on his skin. The endless scent of flowers, seemingly embedded in her hair and soul remained in his lungs despite no longer being in her proximity.

  He scanned the shelves for the darkest chocolate he could find and grabbed a couple cups of coffee for himself.

  The shower wasn’t running when he returned to their room. He kicked the door shut behind him and set the coffees on the small dresser. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

  Who was that old man wearing his clothes?

  When had he begun to look older than he felt?

  He ran a hand through is hair and sniffed a humorless laugh at his black jacket.

  “Stop overanalyzing yourself.”

  He turned his body toward the gentle admonishment and felt his chest tighten.