London Falling (Falling #2)(61)

“Sixteen weeks, right?”

“Just over,” Hank yelled. “My baby is awesome. Big as an avocado!” He held up his huge paw to mimic the size.

Aspen hooked her finger over her shoulder. “He’s a nut.”

“But he loves you.”

Aspen’s eyes glazed as she stared at her husband to be. “Yeah,” she said, all light and airy, completely smitten with her man. Love and adoration poured from her as she watched him, completely forgetting the two of us had been deep in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t blame her. If Collier was here all my attention would be focused on him, too.

If Collier were here. But he wasn’t. Because I pushed him away.

Just like every other man who remotely gave a shit about me. I never allowed anyone to get too close, preferring to sleep around instead of holding onto a meaningful relationship, even if they pursued me. Collier was the only exception in the last four years.

How the hell was I going to fix this?

The situation seemed hopeless but I had to try. I wanted to be with Collier. I wanted the whole enchilada. A commitment to be together. Only him and me, with no end date, no worries about the future. Just a solid commitment to be a part of his life. It would take work, more on my part than on his, but he was worth the effort. God, was he worth the effort.

I scrolled through my phone and decided now was as good of time as any to send out my daily olive branch.

To: Collier Stone

From: London Kelley

Was surprised to not see you on the jet. I hope you’ll be at the wedding. Please talk to me. I miss you.

I considered removing the ‘miss you’ part. I didn’t want him to know just how badly I had, but damn it. If I was going to win him back, get him to give me another chance at this thing between us, I had to lay my cards on the table. Quickly, I hit send and shoved the phone back into my purse.

“Was that Collier?” Aspen asked.

I shook my head. “No, he hasn’t contacted me in two weeks. We had a falling out,” I admitted. I didn’t want my sister worried during her wedding weekend so I kept it to myself.

“They had a fight over my bullshit.” Tripp shook his head, then proceeded to hang it low in shame. I rubbed his arm to sooth the hurt. That didn’t help since three of my fingers were broken due to the crap he’d gotten himself into that night. Still, he didn’t mean to cause trouble between Collier and me. He lifted my hand and kissed each broken finger, his eyes focused down.

“So you didn’t know then?” Aspen asked.

“Know what?”

Aspen bit her lip and sat up straight. She gripped my hand. I did not like the body language or the sympathy pumping off her. “His dad had a heart attack two weeks ago. Nate, Collier and Emma took the first flight out to be with him.”

My eyes must have been as wide as a house. My heart broke into tiny fractured pieces. Tears filled my eyes. “No, I didn’t know. I should have been there for him.”

“So, it is serious between you two?”

I nodded, not able to speak through the huge lump in my throat. Tripp handed me a glass of water and I took a few sips. “Is his dad okay?”

Aspen smiled brightly. “He is. It was relatively mild but was a definite scare to the family. According to Hank, Nate said their mother was a wreck. The past two weeks, they’ve been settling their dad at home and getting him on an eating and exercise plan. They’re also trying to talk him into early retirement. He’s only in his late fifties.”

Knowing Collier had been gone the last two weeks helped relieve my fears that the thing between us could be resolved, once I had a chance to explain. But the fact that I wasn’t there for him when he needed me? I felt gutted and the knot in my belly tightened. My phone pinged from my purse and I scrambled to get it. Everyone I cared for, save one, was here. My heart expanded and warmth filled my chest as I read the words I’d been dying to see for two weeks.

To: London Kelley

From: Collier Stone

Beauty, I miss you more. It’s been a rough fortnight. I’ll be in Texas tomorrow. I’ll be the one waiting…for you to come to me.



***

That thirteen hour flight was the longest of my life. The past fortnight had been filled with heartache and nerves, for my step father, my overwrought mother, my baby sisters and for London.

I missed that bird like I missed summer in Sussex. The thought of her cinnamon scent, her buttery soft arms folded around me did wonders to ease the ache I’ve suffered since our parting.

At first I was ready to write her off. The bloody bird brought men to her knees with her beauty. The sound of her New York accent sent rivers of pleasure down my spine, and her touch…blimey, her touch was the balm to heal all wounds. She was the whole package, even if her edges were torn and stuck together, piss poor, with tape and glue. She was a dear gift to receive, open and cherish.

When I received that last text, finally admitting she missed me, that was all it took to break down every wall I’d tried to build around my heart. Those three little words, “I miss you,” were all I needed. My Beauty was strong and stubborn. The first week’s messages and voicemails were a bit shotty, trying to make light of what she did.

The second week’s messages changed considerably. They were more pleading, carrying more desire for a reconciliation. This last text--her asking me to talk to her--laid her heart out for me to take. It was a huge step in the right direction. By the end of this trip, she’d be mine. Body, heart, and soul.