“You need to go.”
A sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t want to.”
“I know, sweetheart. But I’m only a few weeks behind you. Get on that plane to Barcelona, and give that family the best vacation they can have. And when you’re done working, I’ll meet you in Paris.”
“Can we talk every day?” she asked him.
“I’m counting on it. We’ll talk and message and video chat. The time will fly. I promise.”
Her body relaxed. “Four weeks,” she said softly. “I guess I can do that.”
“Four weeks isn’t long when it’s compared to the rest of your life,” he told her, pressing his hand to the small of her back as they walked to the end of the security line. “Will you wait for me?” he asked. She knew from his tone he wasn’t only talking about the next few weeks. He was asking her to be his.
“Always,” she promised. “I’ll always wait for you.”
He was right. A few weeks was nothing. She’d been waiting all her life for him, and just hadn’t realized it.
He kissed her hard this time, and she kissed him back, memorizing each touch so that it could carry her through their separation.
“Will
you wait for me, too?” she asked back when they parted, so aware that in a few moments she’d be walking through security.
“Lydia Paxton,” he murmured, running his hands through her silky hair. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. And the only thing worth waiting for.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later…
Her flight had landed late, and her stupid damn luggage was the last to appear on the carousel, taunting her as it slowly made its way around to where Lydia was waiting impatiently. She grabbed her three suitcases and somehow maneuvered them through customs, waddling like a duck as she walked into the arrivals terminal.
The California sun was bright, shining through the glass wall of the airport, warming her skin as she rushed through the sliding doors.
And then she saw him. Well, them. Jackson and Bella, sitting in his car. And her heart did a little flip.
It had been two months since they’d last been together, the longest time they’d been apart since that fateful day at the airport when they’d declared themselves. These eight weeks had been the longest of her life, even though they’d managed to speak to each other every day. Even the days when she was up in the Pyrenees Mountains between France and Spain and had to walk for a mile to find reception.
Finally spotting her, Jackson’s face lit up as he opened the driver’s door and almost ran to where she was standing. Clearing the last few feet, he picked her up and swung her around, pressing his lips to hers with an impatient, hot kiss.
“You made it,” he said, his voice low. “Damn, you look good.”
“I look terrible. I’ve been traveling for twenty-four hours.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You look amazing. You always do.” With a final kiss, he put her back down on the sidewalk, and grabbed her bags. “You traveled light this time,” he joked.
“I bought a few gifts,” she admitted. “Some cute outfits for Skyler, and a matching scarf for you, me and Bella.”
Hearing her name, Bella barked loudly, her tail wagging like crazy as Lydia leaned in to give her a hug. “I’m happy to see you, too, pumpkin,” Lydia told her, as Bella licked her face all over. “She looks like she’s grown,” Lydia said, turning back to Jackson. Damn, it was so good to see him. She loved to travel, but she loved to be with him more.
Jackson shook his head. “I might have given her too many treats after the last time I came back. She’s on a strict diet now.” In the past six months, he’d visited her in France, Argentina, and most recently, Bali. Those had been her favorite locations, showing him all the places she loved, introducing him to her friends. She’d discovered he was an intrepid explorer. He had no fear, not when he was riding down a zip line over a deep gorge, nor when they climbed part of Mont Blanc with a tour guide.
And the nights when he held her close, after an evening of good food, wine, and dancing, were her favorites of all.
Once Jackson had put her cases into the trunk – though one had to go in the back seat next to Bella – he walked around to the passenger side and opened it up. Lydia went to follow him, but he put up his hand.
“You’re driving,” he told her, pointing at the other side of the car. “That’s your seat.”
“Seriously? I haven’t driven for two months.” Not since he’d given her intensive lessons the last time she came to Angel Sands, and somehow she’d managed to pass her test and obtain her license.