TWENTY-TWO
JORDAN
My heart is lodged in my throat as I check arrivals for the twentieth time in the last two minutes. There’s one flight from London tonight, and my girl is on it.
After eight years, five months, twelve days, and a handful of hours, Mackenzie and I will be single and living in the same state. Not that I’ve been keeping track or anything.
Have you ever heard of the right person, wrong time? That’s been us—until now. I’ll never let her slip away again. Whatever it takes, I’m all in.
The twenty-first time’s the charm—her flight has finally arrived in Charlotte. My queen in the Queen City.
Okay—that was terrible, and it’s time to get a grip on reality.
I pace just outside of the terminal. I’ve seen a handful of emotional reunions that only add to my anticipation. A flash of blonde hair catches my eye, and I feel her before I see her. The first thing I see is those mesmerizing blue eyes. It’s like staring into tropical waters—bright, impossibly blue. The crinkles around her eyes tell me she’ssmiling and the grin I find is nearly blinding. She’s glowing as she walks through the automatic doors and straight into my open arms.
Her scent—vanilla and something unmistakably Mackenzie—hits me in the chest as we embrace, and the void I’ve carried for so long finally fills. She’s been the missing piece to my puzzle and now I’m complete. I pull back just enough to tilt her chin up, her eyes meet mine again and I lean down gently pressing my lips to hers. She drops whatever luggage she was dragging to wrap her arms around my neck.
Home.
This is the feeling I’ve been craving since I left her in London.
When we pull back, it takes every ounce of restraint not to spend the night kissing her in the middle of the airport. I smirk down at her and her cheeks blush instantly.
“Welcome home, Mack.”
“That was one heck of a greeting, Mr. Mills.”
Laughing, I take her hand, and pull her suitcase with the other. Most of her things were boxed and shipped, so Mack only needed one bag to make it home. We walk leisurely to my truck as she tells me about her long flight. She doesn’t look it, but I know she’s exhausted. Traveling that far is enough for anyone, add pregnancy, and she is probably barely standing.
As we approach the truck, I unlock it with my fob and open the passenger door to help her step up and inside. True Carolina girl that she is, she grabs the handle and hoists herself up, giving me a great view of her backside that any man would drool over. I turn my head, attempting to be a gentleman, but she catches me staring.
“See something you like, J?” She gives me a flirty smirk and a wink before shutting the door in my face. I bark out a laugh, tossing her suitcase in the bed of the truck and round the back to the driver’s side.
After getting buckled and finding something on the local country radio station, I turn to Mack, finding her eyes twinkling at me.
“For the record, Mackenzie—I like everything about you so… the answer isn’t just yes, it's absolutely one hundred percent always yes.” Her mouth opens in shock and I can’t help but smile.
The drive back to our hometown is full of effortless conversation and comfortable silence. Even though it’s only an hour, Mack falls asleep with about fifteen minutes to go, and I glance at her every few minutes, making sure she’s really here. She is undeniably beautiful, even more so with a tiny baby bump.
I pull into her parent’s driveway, getting out quietly, having called ahead to let them know she was asleep and I would bring her inside. I round to the passenger side, as I carefully unbuckle her, taking her perfect body in my arms and carrying her bridal-style into the house and up the stairs to her childhood bedroom. Walking in I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia seeing a collage of pictures from high school and the dresser and nightstand she and Reagan painted a bright green after finding them on the side of the road for free. Everything in this room screams Mack.
With one hand, I pull her large white duvet back and lay her carefully in the bed. Placing the blanket back over her, I kiss her forehead and fight the urge to slide in beside her and pull her into my arms. “Sweet dreams, Mack.”
Closing the door, I head back downstairs and am met with her parents staring at me. Mack’s mom, Sarah, pulls me into a hug and squeezes me a little too tight. “Thank you for taking such good care of our girl.” She kisses my cheek and heads off toward the kitchen.
Conrad Banks has always been protective, so he doesn’t seem as thrilled as Sarah that I’m the one in his house right now. “Jordan, you know what she’s been through. I’m not an idiot; I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at my daughter since you two met. Don’t let her go. Take care of her and be patient. You’re a good man.” Then he squeezes my shoulder and goes after his wife, leaving me in complete shock.
Instead of heading back to Charlotte, I take the fifteen-minute drive to my parent’s house, seeing my sister’s Jeep in the driveway. Everyone isasleep, so I quietly tiptoe up to my room and fall asleep with Conrad’s words replaying through my mind.
MACKENZIE
My eyes twitch open when I feel something wet on my cheek. Lifting my head up, I see a familiar pillowcase and realize it’s a giant puddle of drool. Turning my head side-to-side I try to piece together how I got into my childhood bedroom, but I have no recollection.
Picking up my phone charging on the table next to me—don’t remember doing that either—I see that it’s nearly noon and I’ve been asleep for hours. My body begs me to lie back down. I force myself up because if I’m ever going to get adjusted to the time change, I need to start now.
I take a shower as hot as my skin can possibly handle, washing away the dirt and grime of travel. It still shocks me to look down and see a growing bump. “Only a few more months, little one.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed and ready for the day. I slip my phone into my back pocket before bounding down the stairs to my parents. I’m grateful it’s a Sunday and I can smell the remnants of breakfast and coffee lingering in the kitchen. Not seeing them in the living room or at the table, I look out the back door and see them on the porch, enjoying the garden.
