Page 80 of Floodgates

“Talk to me.”

Turning, my head, my gaze met his. “I’m at a loss, Cord.”

“Lucky I’m not,” he said, taking my hand and lacing his fingers with mine. “Wherever we end up tonight, you’re sleeping with me.”

My heart fluttered. “You’re sure?”

“Never been more.”

I nodded.

“How’s your head?”

I could feel my face heat, and I was sure I was blushing.

“Not your little head, idiot,” he said through quiet laughter. “You have a concussion—what I did wasn’t that smart. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Even if you had,” I informed him, “who cares?”

He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Good.”

We sat there in silence, and after a while I got sleepy. He lifted his arm, and I snuggled close like I’d been doing it forever. He anchored me there, holding me tight, and leaned his cheek against my forehead. Why that felt so normal after only a half-a-day flight I didn’t know, but after years of lead up, I was finally going to start something with Cord Nolan. I was excited and terrified at the same time.

Chapter 10

THE INTERNATIONAL airport in Burlington, Vermont, looked like many other airports I’d traveled through in my life. What changed was what was sold. In San Francisco it was sourdough bread and Alcatraz key chains or trolley-car magnets. In Vermont, there was maple syrup for you to grab, and Green Mountain Coffee, and, of course, Ben & Jerry’s merchandise. The shops went by in a blur as I followed everyone else.

“You look nice, by the way.”

Glancing over at Cord as we walked, I wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on. Would he simply blindside me with compliments? I knew I looked ordinary in slim-fitting chinos, a sweater vest, a long-sleeved button-down, and a brown leather jacket topping it off.

“I like all the stuff too.”

My new watch compliments of Evan, the brown leather cuff bracelet on the opposite wrist…. He was noticing it all, and I stumbled for a second because I didn’t even know the stranger walking beside me.

“You all right?” He checked with a hand on my shoulder, the concerned look in his eyes not completely foreign. Now that I was clear of my detritus where Cord was concerned, I was noticing things as well. The affection on his face had always been there, I had just seen something else. I had always thought the worst of him. Now that I wasn’t, he had dropped his guard. It was brand new.

“I’m fine,” I told him, catching his hand before he withdrew it, squeezing tight a moment.

“Stay close to me,” he ordered, and clear as day I heard the possessiveness in the tone. How had I missed that?

“I will.”

My simple words drew a smile I had never seen before from the man, and I was reminded again that yes, Cord Nolan was into me. I needed a little time alone to process it, but I wasn’t going to get any.

When we walked out through security into the main terminal, I heard several people call Breckin’s name. The crowd there was a surprise, as was seeing his parents. His mother was a stunning blonde, and his father just as gorgeous with his gray hair and piercing blue eyes. They were straining to see their son. Once he was close enough, Michelle Alcott threw herself into her son’s arms and covered him in kisses. His father watched them, waiting his turn. I saw his tense posture, his anxious anticipation. Breckin emerged from his mother’s embrace and went quickly into his father’s waiting arms. Everyone standing there clapped—Breckin was at the center of his family. I saw his sister, his brother. It was amazing how similar they all looked; easy to spot any of them anywhere.

When he was released from the cocoon of homecoming, he turned, and for the first time, everyone saw us: Cord. Celia. Me. He introduced us without a moment’s hesitation.

“This is my wife Celia,” he said, looking right at me as he spoke.

A month ago, a week ago, even a couple of days ago, that would have hurt. But it was strange how clarity came at odd times. Ever since I found out five months ago that he’d cheated on me, I had been moving toward the end… and suddenly I was there.

His family surged around Celia, putting hands on her stomach, on her back and shoulders, Michelle crying now, smiling through her tears and hugging Celia tight. They loved her. Loved her! You could have put it up in neon lights. She was, after all, the ideal of feminine beauty, and she had come bearing the greatest gift: his child.

They remarked on the fact that she didn’t have a ring, and Breckin said her hands were swollen with the pregnancy, but that what they had at home was a small and inconsequential diamond. His mother promised him the ring she had at home, retrieved from a vault in hopes that he would want to give it to Celia.