From Air (Wildfire)

Chapter Thirty-Six

The private investigator I hired is backed up, but he promised to start looking into Barbara Keane as soon as possible. On the one hand, I’m relieved because I’m still struggling to come to grips with the idea that my mom lied to me. On the other hand, I just want it over, the mystery solved, so I can move on with my life.

This trip to Missoula for the weekend is exactly what I need to keep my mind off the debacle of my past.

A few phone calls and daily texts are not enough.

I’m dying to see Fitz. Will and Maren too.

“Oh my god! That face says everything.” Maren gives me a mock-pouty expression when I exit the airport in Missoula.

“Hey!” I park my roller bag and hug her. “What look are you referring to? What face?”

She releases me. “I told Fitz and Will I wanted to pick you up. I said you’d be most excited to see me.” She takes my roller bag and pulls it toward the parking lot. “But your face dropped the second you spied me.”

“That is not true.” I clasp her free hand and squeeze it. “I have missed you something fierce.”

“But have you missed me as much as say ... Will?”

I giggle.

“Or, uh ... who’s that other guy you lived with? Oh, Calvin. Surely you didn’t miss that asshole.” She unlocks her car and deposits my bag in the back before turning with a sly grin.

I bite my lips together. Eyes wide.

“Matching tattoos.”

I nod slowly, knowing I must look like a mammoth pile of guilt.

“What’s it like to fall in love with grumpy Calvin Fitzgerald? Better yet, how is that possible?”

I shrug. “Why didn’t you say anything? We texted so many times after you saw his tattoo. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know if he’d tell you. And I wanted you to tell me. I wanted you to trust me with it. I don’t expect that of him, but I expected it of you.”

I sag.

“No. I’m not mad at all.” She gives me a crestfallen smile. “How are you? When I heard about your attack, my heart broke hard. I couldn’t imagine who would do such a thing to my friend.”

“I’m good.” I rotate my face around. “See? You can’t even tell, other than that my nose is a little crooked, but it will stay that way.”

“It’s not crooked. Get in. Will’s dying to see you.”

I love her game. She’s not wrong. I was slightly disappointed when I saw it wasn’t Fitz, but this anticipation is incredibly rewarding—a massive adrenaline rush.

“I can’t get anything out of Fitz,” Maren confesses, pulling out of the parking lot. “He hasn’t made a single friendship bracelet with your name. He’s not checking his horoscope. And when I ask about his girlfriend, he says, ‘Who’s that?’”

I laugh. “Well, I’m not sure I’m his girlfriend. I’m not sure he’s the girlfriend type.”

“So it’s just friends with benefits? I don’t buy that. That look back there at the airport was the look of a woman getting ready to run into her lover’s arms. That was the look that said you were going to have at least one orgasm before making it back to the house.” She snickers, not even taking herself seriously.

“I can’t talk about this with you. It’s too weird. It’s like you’re his sister.” I cover my face and shake my head.

She rests her hand on my leg for a second. “Full disclosure?”

I nod, hands sliding down my face.

“When I spied Fitz’s tattoo, I couldn’t breathe. I stood right in front of him and put myself in your shoes. And, oh man, did my heart ache. Two of my favorite humans fell in love but weren’t together. And if you ever tell Fitz I called him one of my favorite humans, I will deny it.”

I grin.

“But it shook me. It shook me because I asked him if he slept with you, and he said yes. Then I asked if he loved you, and he didn’t hesitate. Not one damn second, not a tiny breath of hesitation. He said yes so resolutely it felt like a punch to my gut.”

My eyes burn with emotion. I can’t believe he said that to her. I need to see him. I need to see him now . It’s hard to sit still. Why doesn’t Maren drive faster? She can’t tell me how resolutely he loves me, and then drive five miles under the speed limit.

I’m dying!

My heart flips like an acrobat when Maren pulls into the driveway behind Will’s Bronco.

Will steps onto the porch first, with Fitz behind him, while Maren opens the back. I reach for my suitcase, shaking uncontrollably.

She glances over at me. “Oh my god,” she whispers, pressing her hand to her chest. “You’re so excited to see him that you’re shaking.”

I grip the suitcase. “I am not.”

Maren laughs. “I love this so much.”

“There’s our girl. All in one piece, just like we like her.” Will holds out his arms as soon as I turn.

I hug him. “Missed you so much.”

“Gah! I knew it. I knew it was me who you missed.”

Maren laughs.

Will releases me and turns. “Oh, this is Calvin. Our soon-to-be ex-roommate because he breaks the rules.”

Fitz eyes me with complete mischief, hands tucked into the front pockets of his charcoal cargo pants. “Jaymes,” he says, and his husky voice is so seductive. Or maybe I’m just needing him in a bad way. It’s only been five weeks, but that’s an eternity without Fitz.

I take several steps and throw myself into his arms.

“Oof!” He chuckles.

“Jesus, I thought you two would play it cool for a bit,” Will grumbles.

“How soon can you be inside me?” I murmur in Fitz’s ear.

He grabs my legs and lifts me off the ground, guiding them around his waist. “Later,” he says to Will and Maren, carrying me around the house to the backyard.

I kiss his neck, nibble his ear, and slide my cheek against his scruffy face. As soon as the shed door closes behind us, he kisses me with so much passion it makes me dizzy. Between kisses, our clothes scatter in a mess on the floor.

When I’m down to just my panties, I kiss his chest and unbutton his pants. “I’ve missed you ... missed this,” I murmur over his abs.

Before I can slide his pants down his legs, he guides me back, crawling over my body, kissing me, and palming my breast. His hand then slides down my stomach, dipping into the front of my panties.

I grab his face. “Don’t make me wait.” My words are breathy and impatient.

Fitz grins. “Wait for what?” He kisses his way down my body, kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed while peeling off my panties.

“I n-need you.” I try to sit up, desperate to pull him on top of me.

Instead, he rests his hands on my knees, spreading my legs and dipping his head between them.

“Oh god.” I flop back onto the bed, one hand finding his hair, my other claiming a fistful of sheets at my side.

Something between a hum and a moan escapes him while he licks and sucks me intimately with complete abandon and unhinged seduction.

I want this, but I want him inside me when it happens. My need for him to fill me outweighs my need for a release.

I moan. Yes, a moan . Who am I kidding? He’s always made me moan.

My body wriggles and twists to get him to stop because I haven’t felt this level of hunger from him, and it’s unraveling me too quickly. “C-Calvin Fitzgerald?”

I manage to get him to lift his head.

Hungry eyes.

Wet lips.

He slides off his pants and briefs, keeping his gaze on me the whole time, while I creep on my knees toward him.

“What do you need, baby?” He nibbles at my neck, his hands on my ass, then my breasts, and in my hair like he wants to touch me everywhere at once.

I take his erection in my hand. “I need you inside me.”

The second my back contacts the mattress, he grabs my thighs and thrusts into me.

“Oh god!” I grip his ass, taking a second to acclimate. “Don’t rush it,” I say just before he sucks on my bottom lip.

With a strained laugh, he releases it. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I grin, and he kisses me.

Everything about us feels right. We fit. The Capricorn and the Virgo. Does he feel it? Did he feel this—whatever invisible thing this is—from the day we met? I did.

Does he know I’ve never felt so loved? Yet, he’s never said those words directly to me. He thinks he’s broken, but he’s not. He’s molded, sculpted, and perfectly created just for me.

He’s mine.

“Jaymes ...” He runs out of breath, hand on my ass, guiding me so that we fit as close as possible while pumping into me at a quickening pace.

I curl my fingers into the thick muscles along his backside as my lips part in a silent cry.

His face tenses, neck stretched, body ridged: a beautiful masterpiece—the finest specimen.

He lowers his body to lie flush to mine, and we breathe together. I know I’ll run out of oxygen soon from his weight. But for now, I’m content stroking his hair while his fingers ghost along my hip and leg.

It’s the ultimate walk of shame.

We enter the house’s back door to find Will and Maren waiting for us in the living room. Will’s watching football, and Maren’s scrolling on her phone.

Fitz doesn’t skip a beat. He acts like he just got home from work, heading straight to the coffee machine and tossing in a K-cup. I, on the other hand, shoot Will and Maren a cringey smile while making a beeline upstairs for the bathroom to clean up.

After handling things in the cleanup department, I make what feels like a second walk of shame back down the stairs.

Maren spies me first and smiles. “How was it?”

Fitz, parked at the counter with his back to Maren, coughs on his coffee.

I shrug a shoulder. “It was fine.”

Will snorts while I pass Fitz to get a glass of water.

“What’s everyone wearing to the party tonight?” I ask.

“Will and I are going as Jack Skellington and Sally,” Maren says enthusiastically.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas?” I laugh. “Very cool.” I inspect Fitz.

“Don’t look at him,” Will says. “He never dresses up. Ever. ”

I can’t help the sour expression on my face. “You invited me to a Halloween party, but you’re not dressing up?”

He pauses his coffee mug at his lips and inspects me like he’s still thinking about what happened in the shed. “Correct.”

“That’s not okay, Fitz.”

He grins. “Do you have a costume?”

“Absolutely. Wicked Kitty.”

“Come again?” He scrutinizes me.

“Black leather teddy. Black thigh-high boots. Ears. Mask. Whip.”

“That sounds hot,” Maren says.

Fitz shoots her a look, but I don’t think it’s a kind one.

“I was thinking you could dress up as a smoke jumper.” He gives me a tight grin.

My forearms rest on the counter, so we’re face to face. “I’ll go as a smoke jumper if you go as the wicked kitty. Someone’s wearing the wicked-kitty costume.”

“I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you go as the wicked kitty,” Will offers.

“I’ll add an extra hundred,” Maren chimes in with a laugh.

“Want me to call Gary and Evette to see if they want in on this?” I ask. “You could make some good money tonight.”

“Do you think the leather teddy would fit me?” Fitz scratches his chin.

“No.” I mirror his chin scratching. “Perhaps I should be the one to wear it.”

“And I’ll go as a smoke jumper.”

“Come on.” I grab his arm. “Let’s scrounge you a costume at the eleventh hour.”

“This is a terrible idea,” he grumbles while I pull him toward the door.

“Grab your keys,” I say. “We’ll be back.”

Maren and Will laugh. “Good luck.”