A pretty redhead, who introduced herself as Tricia when I boarded, approaches. “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”
I’m starving, but caffeine comes first.
“Coffee would be wonderful.”
I’m pulled catty-corner on the couch when Fallon grabs my ankles and lifts my sock-clad feet onto his lap.
“Make that two,” he says.
Fallon digs his thumbs into the arches of my soles, and I melt like butter into the leather cushions. Dear god.
“You talk in your sleep.”
I don’t even want to know. My dreams are always of Ryder.
“I’ll take that over snoring.”
He wiggles my big toe. “You do that, too.”
I smack him on the arm. “I do not.”
Do I? Ryder never said anything.
Tricia sets a tray down on the narrow coffee table in front of us and lifts a lid to the sugar dish to reveal yellow sweetener packets, then removes a small stainless-steel cloche from a plate of pastries that smells divine.
“The scones were made fresh this morning.”
I glance at Fallon. He remembered my addiction to cinnamon scones and how I like my coffee.
“Stop staring, Kitten. It’s rude.”
I don’t give myself an opportunity to question my motives before blurting, “Come for dinner tonight.”
“I don’t want to freak out your kids with their mother bringing a strange man home from Italy.”
“You won’t.” Even though my children have never met him, they know him. I made sure of it. “Besides, it’s not up for discussion,” I add, giving him no choice.
I won’t let him seclude himself in his giant mansion and retreat from the world like a self-exiled recluse.
Biting into a warm scone, I ask with my mouth full, “Do Aurora and Trevor know you’re coming?”
I never got around to replying to Trevor’s text. By the time I got back to my hotel, I fell face-first onto the bedcovers and was out like a light. Emotional exhaustion is real and kicks your ass worse than any type of physical exertion—and seeing Fallon again was absolutely emotionally exhausting. Last night was also the first time in three years I slept for more than two hours without waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares.
Fallon casually drapes one arm over the back of the couch and sips his coffee. “The Montgomery grapevine travels faster than the speed of light.”
“So, you didn’t tell them.”
He half chuckles. “Trust me. They know without me having to say anything. Sometimes, I think Aurora must have put a tracker on me at some point.”
I can see that actually happening. Aurora and Fallon share similar horrific childhoods. Her upbringing forged her soul into steel and made her into a force to be reckoned with. And just like her half brother, she is fiercely protective of the people she loves.
Needing to stretch my legs after sitting for so long, I stand up and bend over at the waist to touch my toes. Daily yoga and Julien’s morning “death” runs have kept me limber. However, life as a single parent of three keeps me busy enough, so the mornings I’m able to drag myself out of bed at four thirty aren’t as often as they used to be.
I catch Fallon checking me out before he quickly averts his gaze.
“How long are you planning to stick around?” I ask.
I want to know if his sudden reappearance has an expiration date. There is still so much for us to talk about and time to make up for.
