Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) (10 page)

BOOK: Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight)
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“As hard as you work, I’d say you could use a little daydreaming time.” But it hadn’t looked like the happy daydreaming she should have been doing, and he desperately wanted to see her happy. “What kind of plane is this?”

Her eyes took in the length of the plane as she ran her fingers across the bottom of the tail almost reverently. “Stearman.”

He studied the glossy blue and yellow machine. He didn’t know shit about planes, but it looked nice and well loved, even if it was a glorified deathtrap in his estimation. “Isn’t this the one you’ve been working on?”

“Yeah. Gramps lent it to a guy, and, to make a long story short, this guy busted it all to hell before we got it back. Then, I kind of put it away.” She looked at the plane the way a woman would look at her child. A kind of pride, an undeniable love and adoration.

To Callie, it was more than metal and screws; it was a memory. Which was why he couldn’t figure out why she seemed so sad. Planes and flying was something that always made her happy.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Why?”

He knew if he told her she looked sad, she’d get pissed. He went about it a different way instead. “You haven’t been yourself the past few days. Kinda quiet. Haven’t picked one fight.”

Instead of laughing like he’d hoped, she frowned. “Maybe you don’t know me anymore.”

He frowned in return, didn’t like the idea. Of all the people in his life, he knew Callie the best. Or thought he did. “I know that plane means something to you.”

She moved up to the front of the plane, trailing her fingers along the length of it as she did. “I learned to fly in this plane. Actually, more than that, my dad took me for my first ride in this plane.”

She smiled, and some of the sadness lifted into the pleasantness of memory. “This was the first plane Gramps bought when they started AIF because it was the same kind he soloed in. Then when Dad learned to fly he soloed in this one, and when it was time for my first solo, I did too.” She held her arms out, almost as if she could give the plane a hug, she would. “I love this thing. Like part of the damn family.”

She turned to face him, the smile still on her lips. “Let me guess,” she said with a little laugh. “You think I’m nuts.”

“Actually I was thinking you’re beautiful when you’re happy.” The words slipped out before he could change them to friendly rather than eerily close to romantic.

Her mouth gaped open for a second before she turned away from him. “Ha. You’re funny.” But she didn’t sound amused.

“Callie, I’m—”

He moved toward her, but she expertly cut him off. “I’m going to sell it. Hopefully.” She rested her hand lovingly on the glossy yellow of the lower wing.

That stopped him in his tracks, made him forget the beautiful comment. “Why would you sell it?”

“AIF needs the money.”

He moved so he could see her face. His heart tripped to see tears in her eyes, even as she tried to blink them away they spilled onto her cheeks.

He’d seen Callie cry before. Remembered with perfect clarity the way she’d sobbed into her grandpa’s side at her grandma’s funeral. He’d been fifteen, standing between his parents, having no idea what her pain must have felt like. He could still remember the hard, cold wind whipping its way through the funeral, could remember the preacher’s droning words, could remember how his heart had twisted at the sight of Callie crying when he thought she’d been the strongest girl in the world.

This kind of crying was different, though equally wrenching. She didn’t sob or make a noise. The tears kept spilling over, dousing her cheeks, her hand clutching the plane as if she could keep a hold of it.

“I’m such an idiot. It’s just a fucking plane.” Her voice squeaked and choked.

“It’s more than that.” He moved over to her, tentatively reached out to wipe her wet cheek with his thumb. “You said so yourself.”

She shook her head, sniffled. Maybe he was wrong. She didn’t just look beautiful when she was happy. There was something achingly beautiful on her face now as well. He so rarely saw that kind of naked emotion there. It drew him in, had rational thought dimming in the face of her proximity, her tears, her emotion.

He didn’t know what he was doing and for this brief, blinding moment he didn’t care. Meeting Callie’s brown eyes, their lips hovering centimeters away, he couldn’t think about consequences. All he could think about was kissing her.

It was possibly the longest minute of his life. Both seemed unable to end it, yet neither moved forward. They stood, frozen in time, eyes locked in a confusing battle of
what are we doing
?

Trevor’s heart thumped hard against his chest, almost painfully, and yet, there was something warm and sweet working through his limbs. A kind of longing he wasn’t sure he’d experienced before. Not just blood-pumping lust. Something deeper, more complex.

When he finally worked up the guts to close that last centimeter of distance between them, just as their lips met for the briefest, faintest second, Em’s voice rang out in the still air around them.

“Callie!”

They stepped away from each other, and though they’d broken the physical connection, their eyes were still locked. When Em came into view, she didn’t pause before her words tumbled into the moment and crushed it completely. “I just got off the phone with Lawson. He got custody. He’s moving home.” Em’s grin looked like it might split her face in two. “Lawson’s coming home!”

Callie wrenched her gaze from Trevor, her breath coming out in an audible whoosh. Trevor wished he could manage it, but his breath was caught in his lungs, unable to escape.

“Home? For good?” Her voice was raspy, uneven, and that loosened some of the tightness in his chest. At least they were both feeling unsteady.

“For good,” Em squealed. “Stop working and come home. I’ve got a million things to tell you.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You can come too, Trevor. Callie has some beers hidden away in the cabin somewhere. Twinkies and Cokes too, which she thinks I don’t know about.”

It was an attempt to lighten the weight of the room, but neither Trevor nor Callie could work up the appropriate smile of response.

“No, thanks, I should be heading home. Gotta sit on the porch with a shotgun for when Dan drops Shelby off.”

Em smiled at the joke, but Callie didn’t. Even Trevor was having a hard time coaxing his mouth to curve upward.

“Well, I’m heading back to the cabin. Don’t be too long, Callie.”

Callie nodded and the minute Em was out of sight she sagged against the plane, looking like she’d been punched in the gut. It was a strange reaction to news she’d been hoping for.

“Aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know what I am.”

He hoped she wasn’t just talking about Lawson, because he was feeling a little confused himself.

“I’m relieved,” she managed. “It won’t magically solve everything, but before Gramps died we were all doing about five people’s worth of work, then me and Em had to try and take all that on. Your help has been great, but Law being back—it’s balance. We each get to focus on what we’re good at. My family will finally all be here. All be home.”

Then she looked at him, studied him again in the way she’d been studying him all week. He wanted to ask what that look was all about, but when he opened his mouth, a good-bye tumbled out instead.

“I’ll get out of your hair. See you tomorrow.”

He backed out of the hangar and turned around once in the shop. He reached his car and promised himself that if he ever got bored again, he’d take his chances with work email.

 

 

Callie trudged to the cabin feeling like she’d been through the gauntlet. First, Trevor had called her beautiful and all but kissed her, then the thing she’d been waiting on. Lawson was actually coming home.

Things never could happen one at a time. They always had to happen in a blast, so she couldn’t adequately respond to any one event at the appropriate moment.

After all, what should she have done when Trevor walked in on her feeling sorry for herself, missing her dad, and feeling sick over the thought of selling the Stearman? She thought she’d done the right thing. She’d been honest. Maybe she’d tried to deflect him a little bit, but she’d explained the significance of the plane. Hadn’t backed away from the memory or emotion.

She hadn’t put up a wall or brushed him off. It was supposed to be progress. Was it her damn fault she hadn’t been able to hold it together? She hated to cry, but sometimes she couldn’t keep it all under control. For a moment, it had felt good to let loose, to let emotion pour out. Then Trevor had touched her cheek, and it hadn’t felt friendly. It had felt as good as that emotional release.

But the moment that followed and the way his eyes held hers. The way his mouth had been so close and had so briefly brushed hers. Callie didn’t know what to think of it. She hadn’t initiated anything. Nope. That had been all Trevor.

What the hell did
that
mean?

Now, Lawson and the boys were coming home. Everyone would be in their rightful place. Until September, when Trevor would leave again. Of course, Seattle was his rightful place, but she was getting used to having him around.

Callie climbed the stairs of the cabin’s porch, each limb on her body a heavy, immovable weight. The last thing she needed was another piece of her life to be conflicted about.

Callie took a deep breath of the spring evening, tried to gain some strength from it. She still felt heavy and uneven.

One thing at a time. First, she’d deal with the news of Lawson coming home. Then she’d figure out what to do about Trevor.

When Callie opened the door and stepped into the small living room of the cabin, Em was curled up on the old, floral print couch with a notebook and pen in her hands.

It made Callie smile. There was some comfort in coming home to Em, exactly as Callie had known she’d be, already planning and organizing. No matter how many things happened at once, no matter how much Callie struggled to deal with every blow, she could always trust Em to be that steady, predictable rock.

“You don’t waste any time making to-do lists.” Callie tried to hold on to that warm feeling of love. Lawson was coming home. She had to work on thinking positively, and having their little family together was positive.

“Never too early.” Em’s grin stretched so wide Callie thought it must hurt her face. “A million things to do the next few weeks.”

“When’s the move home date?”

“The boys’ last day of school is May twenty-third, so he’s hoping to be home by the thirtieth.”

Callie nodded. It gave Lawson, and Sue for that matter, a lot of time to change their minds. Callie didn’t say that, instead she took a seat in the rickety rocking chair in the corner and pulled her knees up to her chin, letting the chair sway back and forth. “What’s first on the list?”

“We’ve got to get the main house clean and ready.”

The weights in her arms felt heavier and Callie rested her chin on her pulled up knees. More work, as if they didn’t have enough. She meant to keep that sentiment to herself, but she muttered it before she had a chance to censor herself. “Great. Another thing to do.”

“How can you say that? Lawson’s coming home.”

Callie wished she could muster half of Em’s enthusiasm, but all she could think about was the time and energy it would take to get the big house ready for three inhabitants.

Just like Gramps’s office, the house down the gravel road stood exactly as it had two years ago. The emotional toll of going through everything that had been Grandma and Gramps’s would be huge.

“Everything will be like it was supposed to be.” Em’s voice was dreamy and almost childlike. “The Baker grandkids running AIF. Like we always planned.”

Yes, like they’d always planned. Callie could still remember huddling together on the porch of her grandparents’ house with Em and Law, talking about how cool things would be when they were old enough to run AIF. They hadn’t thought about Grandma and Gramps being gone, hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to make ends meet, and had instead dreamed of all the good the way kids do.

Callie felt tears sting her eyes again, but she wasn’t about to cry twice in one day. Instead, she offered some practicality in a quiet voice. “It doesn’t magically solve all our problems. AIF could still fail.”

Em’s smile didn’t falter, not for a second. “This isn’t just about AIF. It’s about family. We’ll finally all be in one place.”

Callie closed her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.” It was hard to be honest about this one thing. She’d kept her concerns about Lawson’s return mainly to herself. And it was hard to be honest, period. She’d spent most of her adult life ignoring feelings, shutting them out. Breaking the instinct to keep it that way would take time and effort.

Em wanted to close that gulf between them, so Callie was determined to keep trying. For Em. Maybe for herself too.

“I guess there’s a part of me afraid it won’t happen. I don’t want to get my hopes up. We have to remember to be practical if we want to save AIF.”

“You worry too much.” Em’s smile was reassuring. “Have some faith.”

BOOK: Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight)
6.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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