Hell on Wheels (29 page)

“You’re right,” Ali said quietly, grimacing as the ache that’d set up shop inside her chest for the past six weeks expanded until it was hard to draw breath.

God, Nate. Wonderful, loyal, brave Nate.
Why
didn’t you answer any of my calls?

“I am?” Becky stopped bouncing from foot to foot and looked momentarily confused. Then she shook her head like a dog shaking off water. “You’re damned right I am.”

Crapola. Ali was going to start bawling if she didn’t do something to distract herself. Just looking in Becky’s familiar brown eyes made her painfully desperate to see Nate again. To watch his resolute face for those oh-so-brief glimpses of sweet emotion, to listen to his deep voice smash up his few taciturn words, to touch him, to feel the vitality of his tough flesh, even if only in passing.

“I was about to have some ladyfingers and a cup of tea,” she murmured past the hard lump in her throat. “Care to join me?”

“Uh, sure. I guess.” It appeared that Becky didn’t know what to do with herself as she twisted her hands together, glancing around uncertainly. She obviously hadn’t expected Ali to be so obliging.

Beckoning for the woman to follow her to the kitchen, she took a moment to drag in a burning breath and corral her stupid, stupid tears. If she got started now, she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop and wouldn’t that endear her to Becky?

Um, no. Most definitely not.

“Have a seat,” she motioned to the small, wrought iron bistro table in the corner and busied herself arranging the tea tray.

“Wow. Fancy,” Becky murmured as Ali set the antique silver service on the table between them.

She smiled sadly. For such a small, feminine looking woman, Rebecca Reichert was amazingly tough. More times than she could count in the last six weeks, she’d wished for just a drop of Becky’s pluck.

As she poured their tea, she wondered how best to pose her next question without sounding pathetic.

Ah, screw it.

“How is he?” she blurted.

“Who?” Becky asked around a ladyfinger. “Ghost? He’s horrible. It’s bad enough he had to…” she made a rolling motion with what was left of the ladyfinger. “Well, you know what he had to do. But then for you to
blame
him—”

“But I
didn’t
,” she defended herself. “I didn’t blame him or judge him for Grigg’s death. Give me a little credit. I know he…” God, it was almost too awful to voice the words, she couldn’t imagine the horror of the actual act. Frank had given her the file on the whole, terrible incident, telling her she deserved to
finally
know it all.

She’d read the horrific thing while sitting beside the toilet on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor
.
Immediately afterward, she’d burned it and then dumped the ashes down the garbage disposal. As if flushing it away could somehow make the abominable words never exist in the first place. But she still saw them occasionally when she closed her eyes…

She choked as one particular sentence flashed through her aching head before she had the opportunity to slam her mental door.

She refused to break down again. It seemed that was all she did lately.

“I know he did it because there was no other way. His courage that day was a gift to my brother,” she whispered, swallowing convulsively as she glanced down at the murky liquid of her tea and squeezed her eyes closed.

Oh, Nate.

“I
tried
calling him before leaving Washington,” she whispered. “I tried calling him every day for a week afterward. But he wouldn’t answer.”

“Yeah.” Becky nodded. “We all tried calling. I think, being the big, stupid dill-hole that he is, he went into some sort of self-enforced exile. He’s back now, though. You should go to him.”

If only it were that easy.

“He doesn’t want me.”

“Say what?” Becky’s expression called her an idiot.

“I can’t stand his rejection again,” she choked. “Not when I need him so much.”

“Back up,” Becky held up a hand. “You can’t stand his rejection
again
? What are you talking about? When did Ghost reject you?”

Ali felt a faint flush warm her cheeks. She
so
didn’t want to go there with Becky, but she knew the woman wasn’t leaving until she received a satisfactory explanation. “When we were at that motel we…we, uh…we sort of…”

“Made love?” Becky prompted impatiently.

“Yeah.” It’d certainly been love, at least on her part. “After we made love, he made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in anything more than that one night.”

Crap. A single tear escaped to trickle down her cheek. She lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away, praying it was an aberration, praying the dam behind which she was holding the overwhelming burden of her heartache wasn’t about to break.

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Oh
now
we’re going to get personal?” she almost laughed, glad for the distraction.

Becky rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I only want to know one thing.”

Ali swallowed and nodded. “What’s that?”

“Do you love him?”

Only with her whole stupid, broken heart. “Yeah,” she breathed, admitting it aloud for the very first time.

“Well then, sista, just what the hell are you waiting for?” Becky slapped a palm down on the table and the silver tea service jumped. “Go and get him.”

“But…but weren’t you listening to a word I just said? He doesn’t want me!” she sputtered, baffled the woman would even suggest it. “He made that obvious at the motel and more than obvious when he refused to take my calls!”

“Bah!” Becky waved a dismissive hand through the air. “He was just avoiding you because he thought he couldn’t have you. You know,” she rolled her eyes in the face of Ali’s bewilderment, “because he figured you’d never forgive him for the whole thing with Grigg.”

“But in th-the Oval Office he—”

“I know how it all went down,” Becky interrupted her. “He ghosted on you. But what did you expect? He didn’t want to face your hatred and blame when he already blames and hates himself enough for the both of you.”

Was it possible?

“Did he tell you that?” she asked hopefully, her heart lodged in her throat.

“Are you kidding?” Becky’s face was plastered with incredulity. “Ghost doesn’t talk to anyone, but that’s beside the point. I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. He wants you, plain and simple, even if he doesn’t know it. Men so rarely know what they want…or what’s good for them, for that matter. Comes from having their heads shoved so far up their asses,” she said in all seriousness. “The real question is do
you
want
him
? And are you ready to make the sacrifices necessary to have him?”

When Nate received word he had a visitor at the front gate, Ali was the dead last person he expected.

He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw her leaning in the window of the new and improved guardhouse, giggling and teasing Manus, who was almost fully recovered from his injury and blushing like a schoolboy with his first crush.

He stumbled, fighting the urge to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness for…everything. For not getting out of those damned ropes sooner so he could save Grigg’s life. For all the years he’d made her uncomfortable by being all Abominable Snowman. For the harsh way he’d treated her the night she came to his bedroom. For the awful, he-needed-a-swift-kick-in-the-ass things he’d said to her that morning at the Happy Acres. For being a coward and avoiding her calls so he wouldn’t have to hear the hatred and grief in her sweet, sunny voice.

“What’r’ ya doin’ here, Ali?” he asked instead, his stupid heart trying to beat right out of his chest.

She turned laughing eyes on him, and all he could think was she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Wow,” she grinned, and that sweet, mischievous expression nearly felled him. He’d survived hunger and dehydration and broken bones and gunshot wounds and torture, but Ali’s smile was enough to have him giving up the ghost. “Why do I feel like we’ve been here before?”

He couldn’t answer her, not when he was in the middle of dying a slow, excruciating death.

Then she was running…toward him.

He braced himself for the blows he so richly deserved but—

Kisses.

Those were hot little kisses falling all over his face and…those were her smooth, slender arms twining around his neck and…
sweet
lovin’ Lord
, those were her fingers buried in the hair at his nape.

He was dreaming. Had to be.

Ali hated his friggin’ guts for killing her brother. She hated him for all the years of dark looks and even darker thoughts. She hated him for his repeated rejections and the unforgivable way he treated her after he’d finally succumbed to his body’s demands. She hated him for all the reason she
should
hate him.

So, this was a dream. A sweet, wonderful dream, because there was no way she’d be here now, clinging to him like she never intended to let go, peppering him with soft kisses and murmuring how much she’d missed him.

Funny thing, though…she felt so
real
in his arms, so soft and alive and—

Honeysuckle.

He drew the delicious aroma of honeysuckle deep into his nose.

“Ali?” he pulled back, searching her golden eyes, holding his breath when he saw—

“I love you,” she breathed, and the earth came screeching to a halt in its orbit.

He shook his head, unable to comprehend, unable to believe. “But…but…”

“And I don’t care if you don’t love me, because you
will
. Besides, you
need
me, whether you know it or not.”

“But…but…” Uh, broken record anyone?

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before, I
would’ve
told you this before if you’d just answered your frickin’ phone, but…thank you. Thank you for what you did for Grigg that terrible day.”

Oh, sweet Jesus!

That was it.

He fell to his knees right there on the pavement, ignoring the hey-what-the-hell! shout his kneecaps sent screaming into his brain. Ali, locked tight in his arms, went with him.

“Shh,” she soothed as the warm September sun beamed down on them both, seeming to glow in triumphant welcome of the little spark that flickered to life inside his dark, tortured soul.

And…yep, those were his tears falling hot and wet into her soft hair as he shook so hard he thought he heard her teeth rattle.

“Shh, Nate,” she said again, turning her head to softly kiss the side of his convulsing neck.

Warm, her breath was so warm.

“Say it again” he choked, still unable to believe…

“Shh, Nate,” she whispered, moving her lips to his jaw.

“Not that part. The other part.”

“Thank you for—”

“No,” he cut her off, his heart waiting with bated breath. Had he been hallucinating? Had she said she…? “The
other
part.”

Her soft lips curved against his chin. “I love you, Nathan Douglas Weller.”

“
Ali
,” he crushed her to his chest, seeking and finding her sweetly wonderful mouth with his own as his heart totally Grinched it and grew two sizes in an instant.

He kissed her with everything he had, showed her with his lips and teeth and tongue the limitlessness of his love. She kissed him back with equal fervor and they probably would’ve started tearing at each other’s clothes if Manus hadn’t chosen that precise moment to clear his throat.

Ali pulled back, breathlessly laughing. “Let’s go—”

“—inside,” he finished for her, pulling her to her feet and running with her toward the shop.

“Nate!” she shrieked as he hastily unlocked the big metal door, throwing it open with a loud
bang
before hoofing it down the hall and up the stairs to the conference area, dragging her in his wake. “Slow down. We have all the time in the world to—”

“Good to see you again, Ali,” Ozzie said as they darted past his bank of computers.

“You too, Ozzie,” she replied, yanking on Nate’s hand as if she wanted to stop and actually talk to Ozzie at a time like this.

She was completely crazy if she thought he’d slow down for one nanosecond before getting her alone and, more importantly, naked.

When she planted her feet, he shot Ozzie a murderous scowl before bending to hoist the wonderful, crazy,
slow
woman into his arms.

“Nate!” she squawked indelicately as he pounded up to the third floor and ran, literally
ran
into his room, slamming the door behind him with an impatient boot. “That was incredibly rude.”

“Hmph.” He threw her on the bed before launching himself on top of her. The fabulous woman giggled seductively and caught him in the soft cradle of her thighs, grabbing his shoulders and ravaging his mouth.

Savage. She totally dug his savage.

He wasn’t sure who took off what, but in an instant they were naked, and he was pushing himself into the hottest, sweetest home he’d ever known.

“Say it again,” he breathed.

“I love you,” she whispered, arching beneath him, taking everything he could give her, giving everything in return.

Long moments later, they were both sated, gasping as the last vestiges of completion shivered through the sweet, hot place where they remained connected. When he finished blowing like a damned racehorse, he pushed up on one elbow to brush away a damp tendril from the corner of her rosebud mouth.

“So…” he said and, unable to resist it, bent to plant a soft kiss on those plump lips.

“So…” she parroted, opening one sparkling eye and grinning that grin he loved so much.

“I, uh…that is to say, I guess we should talk about…what I mean is…um, do you…would you…” Dear Lord, he was such an asshole. When it really mattered, he couldn’t seem to voice the question.

“Would I what, Nate? Do that again? Need you even ask?” She chuckled, hooking an ankle behind his ass and swirling her hips.

“No. I mean,
yes
.” He rolled his pelvis forward because the feel of her around him…
Jesus
. It was unlike anything. But that wasn’t what he was trying to say. “Ali, would you…”

“Do this?”

She squeezed her inner muscles, and his eyes crossed. Literally. “That works,” he managed to pant. Oh, man, did it work. “But Ali, would you…”

“Yes.”

A smile tugged at his lips even though he was having a really tough time concentrating on anything but the sheer physical pleasure of having her in his arms. “Ya don’t even know what I was gonna ask, woman.”

Her sweet, sexy grin brightened his entire world. “It doesn’t matter, Nate. The answer is always the same…
yes
.”

“Marry me,” he blurted, because he was coming up with a big handful of nada when it came to managing some sort of suave, romantic way to ask the question.

“Marry you?” Her beautiful, golden eyes widened and instantly filled with such sweet affection.

He swallowed and nodded, his stupid heart perched dead center in his desert-dry throat.

“Well,” she pursed her lips.

His idiotic heart climbed up into his nose, burning like hot coals and making his eyes water.

“It depends,” she finished, and he blew out a relieved breath.

He’d do anything. Quit the Knights, become a car salesman, sell Phantom, pick off all the gum stuck beneath her students’ desk with his teeth…

She smiled that
Mona Lisa
smile and employed his favorite trick; she simply waited him out.

“What?” he demanded when he couldn’t stand it a second longer. “It depends on
what
?”

“On whether or not you think you can grow to love me.”

“Grow to—” He shook his head, dumbfounded. “Woman, I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Mmm,” she closed her eyes, “that sounds nice. I might just get used to hearing that.”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding her beautiful face between his palms so he could drop soft kisses on her eyebrows, cheeks, nose…

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, bending to kiss her and then—

“How?” he asked her, his burgeoning heart freezing solid.

“How what?” she opened her eyes to watch him like a cat watches a thick bowl of cream. When she looked at him like that he wanted to—

No. He shook his head. Before they went any further, he had to know.

“How can you love me after what I did?”

Her cute little nose wrinkled as her eyebrows veed. “What you did? You did the most loyal, courageous, selfless thing I’ve ever heard of, Nate. How could I not love you?”

“But you…you threw up after you found out—”

“I throw up because I have the world’s weakest stomach and that’s what I do. It didn’t have anything to do with blame, Nate. It had to do with sympathy. When I realized what it must’ve cost you I…I lost it. Literally. My lunch was all over the Oval Office’s fancy rug. And then you ran out and you wouldn’t take my calls, so I figured you didn’t want me or my sympathy.”

And just like that, the sun came out. The weight of his long-held guilt lifted away on the wings of her love, and he could see nothing but magic and…
light
in all the days stretching far out into the future.

“Oh, Ali,” he brushed her soft lips with his. “I’ve always wanted you. I’ll always want you. I only acted that way because I couldn’t bear to hear you say…” He shook his head and swallowed convulsively. “I thought you’d never be able to forgive me if y’ever found out about—” she placed two fingers over his mouth.

“I know what you thought,” she pursed her lips, shaking her head. “You underestimated me again. We’ll have to work on that.”

“Ali,” he buried his nose in her sweet smelling hair, marveling that she was really his.
His
. Was it possible to burst with joy? “I love y’so much,” he murmured.

“That’s all I need to know,” she said, softly kissing his ear, “except…”

He pushed up, and, uh-oh, he knew that look.

Turning his head cautiously to the side, he watched her from the corner of his eyes. He was afraid to ask…“Except what?”

“Except, what did Delilah say to you that night in the bar?”

“Ugh!” he dropped his face to her slender neck, licking at her soft pulse, hoping beyond hope that she would—

“No, you don’t,” she pushed him back, her expression comically stern. “You’re not going to distract me with that. Come on, spill. It’s been driving me crazy.”

He blew out a defeated breath, then bent his head to whisper Delilah’s prophecy into the little shell of her ear. “She said she saw us married within six months.”

“And you thought that was funny?”

“It was so absurd I couldn’t even fathom it,” he admitted, still unable to believe his infinite good fortune.

When he looked at her, her smile was bright enough to light up the room. “Well,” she said, “I guess Delilah is smarter than the both of us.”

“Guess so.”

“Nate?”

“Hmm?” He started kissing her neck in earnest. Enough with the talk, already. He needed to
show
her his love again. Again and again and again.

“I want babies. Lots of babies.”

Oh, man, he was instantly filled with gripping fear and unfathomable happiness. Babies.

Ali wanted to have his babies. He leaned up one elbow, looking down at her and imagining little girls with golden curls and little boys with eyes the color of amber. “Define lots.”

“I love children, so…at least four.” She looped slim, feminine arms around his neck and nipped at his jaw. “How does that sound to you?”

How did it sound? It sounded crazy and wonderful and…and…damned scary. It sounded like his greatest dream come true.

He could barely speak around the hard lump lodged directly behind his Adam’s apple. “It sounds…perfect,” he whispered.

And that said it all.

His world, once so terribly dark and damaged, was filled with sweet perfection, because he had the only thing he ever wanted.

He had Ali.