Page 57 of Tell Me Again
“I wasn’t kind,” he said with a snort. “I was a hellion.”
“Not to Bryce and me. You were a good boy, Trevor, and you’ve grown up to be a great man.” She leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips just as the chime signaled that they’d reached ten thousand feet. The seat belt light above them went off a few moments later.
“See,” she said, pulling away. “You made it. We’re at cruising altitude. It’s easy-peasy from here.”
To confirm her words, the captain’s voice announced that he expected a smooth flight for the duration of the trip. Trevor let out the first full breath he’d taken since they boarded the plane. He lifted his hands to cup Sam’s cheeks and brought his mouth to hers. “Thank you,” he said after kissing her soundly. “I’m a terrible flyer.”
She snuggled closer. “You and Grace don’t travel often?”
He shook his head. “Not if I can help it. We went to Costa Rica a few years ago and it almost killed me. I prefer drivable destinations. She’s pushing to go to Hawaii this summer. I think I’d need horse tranquilizers to make that trip a reality.”
“Is it because of how your parents died?”
His mom and dad had been killed in a plane crash a year after he’d come to live with his nana. “I never liked traveling,” he admitted. “Even before that. They wouldn’t take me on their trips, and it was easier to blame it on the fact that I was afraid to fly.”
“They did a lot of missionary work in other countries?”
“By the time I moved to Colby, they were gone more than they were around.” He shrugged. “My dad was kind of a ‘freelance’ minister. He didn’t have a church of his own.” The thought of his father showing the stability to commit to a congregation made him want to laugh. “There are plenty of people who do missionary work and bring their kids with them. For my parents, it was all about the two of them traveling the world. They were dedicated to themselves and their mission. I was an afterthought.”
“A child should never be an afterthought,” she murmured. “Your mom and dad might have used religion as a rationale, but they were in their own way just as selfish as my mom was.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “They didn’t get as obsessive about traveling until I was older. And it wasn’t until they started leaving me on my own instead of sending me off with other church families that my grandma realized what was happening.” He’d been around Grace’s age the first time they’d taken off for a two-week trip to Central America, leaving him fifty bucks for groceries and a list of Bible verses to memorize. “It seems crazy that they could hardly pay the utilities every month, but somehow they managed to raise the money for flights to whereverthe spirittook them. They wanted to travel light, and I became too much baggage. But all I ever wanted was for them to choose to stay.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of that when I asked you to go to Europe?” Her voice was gentle.
“Because you were set on leaving.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”
“I always wanted to be with you, Sam.” He shifted in his seat so that he was facing her. “I know you want an explanation, but I don’t think I can give you one that’s good enough. I was angry and stupid, and I didn’t think I deserved the future you were offering. I figured you’d come to your senses and realize you were better off without me, so it was better if I ended things first. It was a mistake and it cost us both. But I’m here now.”
“I’m glad,” she told him.
“Me, too.” He gave a small shudder as the plane hit a tiny patch of turbulence. “Smooth flight, my ass,” he muttered, then squeezed her hand. “Tell me about some of the other kids who come to the camp. Who are they and why are they important to you?”
“You’re really interested?” She sounded skeptical.
“I am,” he told her. “I’m also interested in you distracting me.” He glanced at his watch. “Otherwise, this is going to be a brutal two hours.”
Sam held the room key to the card reader late that afternoon after checking into the downtown Houston hotel. She gave a little wave to Trevor at the other end of the hall then slipped into her room, pressing her back against the door as it closed.
Butterflies dipped and danced around her stomach and she pushed her knuckles into her belly, the unexpected nervousness catching her off guard.
Something had changed between her and Trevor during the flight. It was more than a physical awareness or the lingering memory of the way she’d felt about him years ago or the more recent knowledge of how good it was to be in his arms. She’d realized she liked him. Really liked him. The man he’d become—still honorable to the core if a little rough around the edges.
Sam understood rough edges. She had more than her fair share.
He’d come with her to Houston, despite one of the worst cases of flying phobia she’d witnessed and even though she’d given him no indication that she wanted or needed him there.
She did. Want. And need.
That had become all too clear when the front desk clerk at the hotel had asked whether they wanted one room or two. Her first instinct had been to blurt out one room. To take this opportunity and spend the whole night in Trevor’s arms. She yearned for that like a sailor watched for the harbor after months at sea. He’d immediately answered two, and she didn’t argue, too embarrassed to think she was on her own in pining for something more.
A knock at the door had her whirling around. She opened it a crack to find him standing on the other side.
“I was going to call,” he said with a small smile, “but that seemed silly.”
She took a step back, her breath coming out in shallow pants, ready to invite him into her arms, her heart, and her hotel bed. Get a hold of yourself, she admonished silently. This is not your first time at the rodeo.
