Falling for Flynn (15 page)

She could’ve sworn this wouldn’t happen the way he’d treated Adam, the way he’d grown close to him, the love she’d glimpsed whenever he looked Adam’s way. But were her instincts wrong? Was it worth taking a risk when the repercussions could devastate her son?

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered as she reached her car, cursing as she bent to examine the deflated tire on the driver’s side.

At that moment the rain started, a few drops plopping on her head before the typical Melbourne summer deluge poured down in earnest.

As she rummaged in her handbag for her keys, several loud honks of a much-too-close horn made her jump.

“Quick, hop in.”

The tinted passenger window on a familiar four-wheel-drive slid down, revealing the last man she wanted to see.

“Go to hell,” she said, searching for her keys with renewed desperation, trying to ignore the tiny voice inside her head that insisted she’d left them in the locked drawer of her desk.

“I’ve already been there. It’s what my life has been without you in it. So, get in.”

Her common sense warred with her belligerence. She could get into Flynn’s car and avoid getting soaked to the skin or trudge back to the classroom, find her keys, wait until the rain stopped and change her tire — which could take hours.

Torn with indecision a sudden crack of lightning had her wrenching open the passenger door of his car and sliding onto the black leather seat.

“Take me home.”

Trying not to inhale the rich tempting scent of leather and Flynn, she folded her arms. “Please,” she added as an afterthought, hating how rude she sounded when she tried so hard to instill good manners into Adam.

“Actually, I had somewhere else in mind,” he said, steering the car with skillful precision in the treacherous driving conditions. “We’re going to talk, Lori. And this time, you’re going to listen to every word I have to say.”

He must’ve sensed her mutinous glance for he added, “Even if I have to tie you up.”

She should’ve demanded he drive her straight home.

She should’ve argued and badgered him until he had no choice.

Instead, she leaned her head back against the headrest and exhaled slowly, all the fight drained out of her.

She was tired of fighting, tired of the pain, tired of everything.

Raindrops trickled down her neck, her hair had turned frizzy from the humidity and she probably looked a fright, yet something he’d said niggled at the edge of her memory.

It’s what my life has been like without you in it.

She’d told him to go to hell and that had been his response.

She’d been too wet and too impatient to absorb the implication behind his words at the time but now … What had he meant? Did he mean it or was it just a throwaway line he’d used to reel her in yet again?

“Let me guess. You let down my tire just to make me listen to you.”

He cast her an amused glance before refocusing on the road.

“You really have a low opinion of me, don’t you?”

“You haven’t proved me wrong.”

“I think we’ve both jumped to a lot of incorrect conclusions and it’s time to rectify them.”

He could’ve sounded angry or resentful. After all, she’d told him to his face the last time they’d seen each other he meant nothing to her yet here he was, calmly talking like nothing had happened.

And it shamed her. Though she’d been hurt, she shouldn’t have taunted him like that. It had been unforgivable and had complicated things, obviously prompting him to instigate legal proceedings when they should’ve been able to sit down and discuss Adam’s visitation schedule like two adults.

Maybe she should listen to what he had to say? What harm could it do?

“I take it your silence means you’re in agreement?”

“I suppose,” she said ungraciously, not willing to give in too easily.

“Good. In that case, let’s stop here and talk.”

To her surprise, he pulled the car over and she took in their surroundings for the first time. Lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t paid particular attention to the route he’d taken, and it came as a shock to realize he’d driven to the Lookout along the Yarra River.

“This place hasn’t been conducive to us conversing before,” she said, trying to ignore the way her heart lurched when she noticed the spot he’d chosen.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

He switched off the engine and turned toward her, the intensity of his gaze doing crazy things to her insides.

She licked her lips, wishing she could stick her head out the window and open her mouth to the falling rain, anything to moisten the dryness of her parched throat. The longer he stared at her, the worse it got until she swallowed repeatedly, desperate to lubricate her vocal cords before she spoke.

She nodded, knowing she treaded on dangerous ground in bringing up anything to do with the physical side of their relationship, even when it was over.

“That’s all in the past. Let’s concentrate on the present.”

She clicked her fingers as if coming up with a sudden brain wave. “I know. Let’s talk about why you lied to me.”

He frowned. “About?”

“The money.”

“Oh.”

“A pretty big ‘oh’ if you ask me.”

Rather than appearing annoyed or shamed into revealing his secret, he grinned.

“As I recall, I told you I loved you and you didn’t believe me. Why would you believe me about anything else?”

So he had a point. But this wasn’t about him scoring points, it was about getting this chat over and done with so she could go home and nurse her heart through the shock of seeing him again, of feeling how much she’d missed him.

“Why? Is the money important to you?”

“’Course not.”

She averted her eyes from his triumphant grin.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You. Me. Being here.”

She waved her hands around, fluttering like caged birds and he reached out, captured one in his. “We have to get to the bottom of this and I’m not taking you home ’til we do.”

She stared at his hand covering her own, trying to ignore the butterflies cavorting in her belly at his simple touch. She couldn’t waver in her resolve, couldn’t let him in despite how much she wanted to. It wasn’t worth the long-term pain; for her, for Adam.

“This won’t change anything.”

He stared at their intertwined hands, gave hers an encouraging squeeze.

“Why do you keep running?”

“I’m not — ”

“We were inseparable that last year in high school, then when I went to the Academy you ran. Infrequent crappy emails, the odd phone call, but I felt you pulling away. Then after that one incredible night before I shipped out, you ran the next morning. And now you’re still running away from me. Why?”

She exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath, searching for the right words, any words, to allay his suspicions. She came up empty.

“Tell me, Lori, because I don’t get it.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Tell me why you keep running.”

“Because you’ll let me down,” she blurted, horrified he’d goaded the truth out of her, even more so when she whispered, “Just like him.”

She wrenched her hand out of his, stared out the window, refusing to look at him. If she did, she had a sinking feeling she’d start crying.

“I’m not your father.”

Blinking back tears, she allowed him to gently swivel her shoulders so she had no option but to look at him.

“Surely you know that?”

She shook her head, hating the fact she’d put that sadness in his eyes.

“All I know is he loved the army so damn much we rated a poor second. Our entire lives were spent on the move, following him, waiting for whatever scrap of affection he threw our way. Nothing existed for him but the army. The stress killed Mom.”

“But I’ve left. You won’t ever have to go through that.”

Her hands twisted in her lap until he reached out and stilled them.

“After he left was almost as bad. It was like he blamed us for losing his precious career. We tiptoed around him. Put up with his mood swings. Had no life.”

He nodded. “Pop was like that, the mood swings.”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. He’d never mentioned his home life, even when they were dating in high school, and she’d put it down to him feeling uncomfortable about his poor upbringing.

“So you had it tough too?”

He turned away, his expression somber as he stared at the river. “You could say that.”

She didn’t want to feel sorry for him, didn’t want to empathize. They had to end this, not prolong the agony, but she found herself reaching out to touch his forearm. “Tell me.”

When he turned back, the bleakness in his eyes snatched his breath.

“Pop had post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He loved the army but the stuff he saw, what he went through in World War Two, really affected him.” He shrugged. “Then he lost mom to cancer, had to leave the army to raise me. It took its toll.”

Lori sensed a host of untold subtext in his revelation and hated prying. But she’d never seen him so susceptible and it endeared him to her like nothing else could. “How so?”

Flynn blinked, but not before she’d glimpsed a flash of pain. “He resented me. Did his best but … ” he shook his head, his expression deliberately blank and this time she didn’t feel right pushing.

Besides, she knew what it felt like having a parent resent her for intruding on his precious career. She empathized totally.

“And what about you leaving the army?”

Confusion creased his brow. “What do you mean?”

“No one can go through the stuff you have and not come out unscathed.”

Stoic, he nodded. “I survived. Did what I had to do.”

That’s what she couldn’t understand. He’d seen what the army had done to his grandfather, why had he enlisted?

“Why did you sign up?”

His confused frown deepened. “Because I wanted to defend our country, do the right thing, the honorable thing.”

All very noble and trite, like the spiel off a generic poster for army life, but there was more to it. After what had happened to his grandfather, there had to be more.

“You wanted to follow in his footsteps, is that it?”

“Something like that.”

By his evasive answer, his look-away, there was definitely more to this story.

“But we’re here to talk about us.”

She bristled at his dismissive tone. “I thought we were. You don’t think this is relevant?”

“No, because I’m not Pop.”

“So you haven’t been affected by what you’ve seen?”

His expression turned mulish. “I didn’t say that but I can handle it. I’ve dealt with it. I’ve moved on.”

He pinned her with a glare that meant business. “I’m ready to move on with my life. With my family.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he cut her off. “And yeah, that includes you. You, me and Adam. We’re all that matters now. I love you, I want us to be a family. Is that so hard to understand?”

The underlying vulnerability in his voice moved her more than his words. But his admission about his grandfather, his reticence to discuss it further, only served to harden her resolve.

She wouldn’t put Adam through what she’d gone through. No matter what the cost, including her own happiness.

Hoping to God her voice didn’t quiver, she said, “I understand, and I appreciate your candor. But I can’t change the way I feel. My fear of being let down isn’t about whether you’ll be around or not. It goes deeper than that, way deeper. I’m sorry.”

His direct gaze burned all the way to her soul. “You’re saying you don’t love me? That there’s no hope for us?”

Though confirming his assumptions would be the easiest thing in the world to do and drive him away once and for all, she couldn’t do it. For someone who expected nothing less than the truth from him she’d already lied to him about her feelings to drive him away once before and she couldn’t do it again.

“There’s nothing left to say. Just take me home please.”

He stared at her for a moment longer before turning away and starting the engine.

“You’re wrong.”

She looked out the passenger window and swallowed her tears, wishing for an easy solution.

“You didn’t answer my question about whether you love me so I choose to believe you do. And don’t think I’m going to give up on us because I won’t.”

He chuckled, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Come on, Mom. Hurry up.”

Adam tugged on her hand, all but dragging her to the front door.

“What’s the rush?”

Lori managed to grab her handbag and snag her keys in the hallway on the way out.

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

He rolled his eyes as if moms were the stupidest people on the planet.

She attempted a mock frown. “You know how much I hate surprises,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t buy it for a second. She’d always made a big deal of Christmases and birthdays for that very reason, building the anticipation of the surprise that left them both waiting impatiently for the day.

“Mooom!”

“Okay, okay, you win.” She held her hands up in surrender. “Show me this big surprise.”

Adam opened the door with a flourish and she gaped. She’d expected a cardboard cubby house he’d built on the front lawn, she’d expected her shrubs to be “trimmed” of flowers, both occurrences that had happened before and constituted “surprises.”

However, the sight that greeted her left her speechless and rooted to the spot.

“Isn’t it the coolest?”

Adam jumped up and down on the spot, unable to contain his excitement a moment longer as she stared in disbelief at the giant camper-van parked in her driveway — correction, that took up her entire driveway and then some.

“Whose is it?”

“It’s ours. Dad bought it for us so we can travel around Australia.”

He slipped his hand into hers and stared up at her with those familiar gray eyes.

“You know, as a
family
.”

Her son almost whispered the last word, instilling the word family with a mix of awe and reverence, leaving her wanting to throttle Flynn with her bare hands.