Tailspin(61)

“Which you could have ignored. Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly? It provided me a good excuse to abandon Nate, the Hunts, all of it. Turns out that my objectivity wasn’t so strong after all. Knowing Violet was lost, I lost heart.

“Now they’ll know without doubt that I’m a traitor to the cause. Nate will be livid with me for making him look bad with the rich and powerful Hunts. On the other hand, if the drug works as we fully expect it to, he’ll be delighted not to have to share the praise.”

“You’ll miss out on getting the credit.”

“Violet will miss out on much more.” She swiped a tear off her cheek, turned quickly away, and headed for the bathroom. “Excuse me. When I come out, I’ll call for a car.”

“Brynn—”

“I never cry in front of anyone.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The lock clicked.

Rye went to the door and knocked. “Brynn.”

“Give me a few minutes. Please.”

Cursing under his breath, he backed away. He supposed she had earned a crying jag.

He lifted his bomber jacket off the bed and took his cell phone from the pocket. He sat down on the end of the bed where Brynn had been, holding the phone in his palm, bouncing it a couple of times in indecision, then, before he chickened out, tapped in a number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.”

She gushed a breath around his name. “Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“I called this morning.”

“It said unknown caller.”

“Yeah, I’m using a spare. Anyhow, the day got away. I’m not interrupting Thanksgiving dinner, am I?”

“No, we ate early. Enough food to feed an army. We’ve got leftovers that can easily be warmed up if you’re calling to tell me you’re on your way.”

The hopefulness in her voice made him squeeze his eyes shut. “I’m a long way from Austin. In Atlanta. Grounded by fog.”

“It’s been on the news. You’re not flying—”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow.”

“Where are you off to?”

Did it matter? No. But he told her anyway. Then, “Do I hear a baby crying?”

“That’s Cameron. He’s been fussy all day. He’s teething.”

Cameron, his youngest nephew. He’d seen him only in pictures his proud brother had texted, along with subtle admonitions that if he could fly from coast to coast on a daily basis, surely he could make a stop in Texas to see his family.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, the whole brood is there today?”

“Except for you. You’re missed.”

“I miss everybody, too. But, you know, work. It’s crazy.” Of course work wasn’t the reason he didn’t go home, and she knew that.

“Your dad’s out on the porch. He’ll want to—”

“No, don’t bother him. I’ll try to call again in a day or so, talk to him then.”

“Rye—”

“I’d better go and let you get back to the party.”

“Rye. We want to see you. We don’t have to talk about…about anything you don’t want to. Please. Can’t you come home for a couple of days, at least?”

“I’ll try to do that.”

“When?”

He plowed his fingers through his hair and held his forehead in his palm. “When I can, Mom.”

She didn’t ask when that might be. She had asked before and had never received a definitive answer. He didn’t have one to give her.

Her voice husky with restrained emotion, she said, “Be careful, sweetheart.”

“I will.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“I love you, Rye.”

“Love you, too.”

He disconnected, held the phone against his lips, then, fed up with himself and life in general, tossed it onto the dresser. It landed just as Brynn opened the bathroom door.

She glanced at the discarded phone, then looked at him. “Who was that?”

He stayed as he was, just looking at her where she stood poised on the threshold between the two rooms, hair a mass of dark swirls backlit by the bathroom vanity lights. Those damn gray eyes, lined with the blackest of black eyelashes, now wet and spiky from recent tears, were regarding him with concern.

He said, “Come here.”

Her footsteps were hesitant, but she came to stand directly in front of him. He placed his hands on the sides of her waist, pulled her between his legs, and pressed his face into the hollow where her ribs separated.

She settled her hands on his head, so tentatively that at first he thought he’d imagined it. “Rye? What are we doing?”

Running his hands up and down the backs of her thighs, he nuzzled her middle, then tilted his head back and looked into her face. “Nothing.” He reached for his jacket again and spread it open across his thighs. “It’s a shame you don’t like her.”

Brynn looked down at the painting and gave a faint smile. “She’s growing on me.”

“Yeah? That’s good. Because she definitely has her uses.”

Brynn looked again at the pinup girl, then regarded him warily. “I’m not sure I want to hear what they are.”