Page 135 of Really Truly Yours

Me?

I may need a tranquilizer.

Game six is tomorrow. If Houston wins, it’s over. If not, Gray’s team will have one more shot.

I try not to grip the armrests as the ground rises to meet us. Then I notice others doing the same as the plane rocks and rolls and give myself permission. Rain pelts the window throughout the landing and taxiing to the gate, but I can already make out the sun trying to break through. This near the coast, rain must be ubiquitous.

Steamy warmth greets us on the jetway. I follow along like I know what the heck I’m doing, a carryon and purse over my shoulder. Tripp wheels Avery’s bag, and we find baggage claim. The throng parts, and I spy a large conveyor belt moving in a circle.

“Sydnee!”

I spin, even as I process that no one in this city knows me, no one but…

Gray!

Weaving through the crowd, head and shoulders above, he makes his way to me.

Us. I mean us.

Us is not who he takes in his arms. Not whose lips he kisses with supreme sweetness. Warmth creeps up my throat.

He sets me back, his hands bracketing my waist. “I’m so glad you’re here.” The gold flecks in his caramel eyes are more pronounced today.

“I’m glad, too.” So glad. “I thought you weren’t coming to the airport?”

He lets go for only as long as it takes to snug one arm all the way around my middle and address the entire group. “I cut out early. Some things are that important.” He flashes me a stomach-stirring wink.

Avery grins. A slight perspiration sheen glows Tripp’s forehead as he shakes his head. Longsuffering big brother—or concerned one?

I know, I know. I don’t measure up.

Unbuttoning his cuffs, Tripp begins rolling his sleeves, spilling colorful tattoos all over the place. “So. Avery and I still need a rental.”

Gray’s fingers make indistinct movements against the back of my shirt. “And I need to stop by my place for a few things. I figure I’ll show Sydnee around there, and then we’ll be to your folks’ by dinner.”

Is that disapproval in the flat-to-downward dip of Tripp’s mouth? “Works for us.”

Our luggage arrives. Like its owner, my sad suitcase looks out of date and out of place. I didn’t bring any of Avery’s hand-me-downs. How humiliating it would have been to wear them in her presence.

Gray and Tripp roll our luggage from baggage claim. Before parting, Tripp slaps his brother’s back, adding a subtle squeeze to the end of it. “Be good, bro.” His eyes bounce to me, here and gone almost too fast to register.

Almost.

∞∞∞

The car Gray drove to the airport is not his Range Rover, which I happen to know remains parked half a state away in his brother’s driveway.

This car screams speed. Sam would love it.

Much like my first takeoff a couple hours ago, I’m thrown into the seat as Gray, grinning, hurls us down an onramp. I’m used to Sam’s crazy driving, and I’ve no doubt Gray is in control. Still, I’m grateful when freeway traffic slows us to a crawl. He settles in to the flow and wraps my hand with his, pushing his strong fingers through mine. One hand dangling on the wheel, he bestows one of his charming smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

I think I need a cardiologist. My heart is a mushy blob in my chest, and at the same time, a recalcitrant runaway, racing forward like Gray behind the wheel. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Normally, I’d keep that to myself. I’ve tripped into some kind of fairy tale, however, so going against my instincts makes sense in the moment.

As we poke along behind stagnant traffic, he grins like I made his day. He points at landmarks along the way. Not the touristy kind. Stuff like the church he attends, the exit he takes to the ballpark.

I’ll be there tomorrow. The giant beast looms, glistening in the sun that emerged as soon as we landed.

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