Chapter Nine
Who doesn’t like Bon Jovi?
All of my life—it didn’t matter where I was—if Bon Jovi came on I was halfway there. Can I get a whoa-oh? Because I was living on a prayer. But apparently, those rules didn’t apply to today, as Elle flipped off my stereo and submerged the car in silence.
“You don’t want to listen to music?”
She frowned and folded her arms over her chest. “That’s just noise.”
I gaped at her. “You love Bon Jovi.”
“Who?”
Right. Another familiar part misplaced and severely missed.
Distressed, I tried to comfort myself and muttered, “We got each other. That’s a lot.” But Elle didn’t get my joke.
When we reached my house I left Elle with my mom so I could pack. Once again, I had no idea how long I’d be gone, but this time I wasn’t messing around. I packed everything.
On my last trip to Davenport headquarters, I’d had a little mishap with the luggage department, but Hale was having our things sent ahead of time, so there would be no tedious interactions with baggage claim. Good thing, too, because I had way more than the seventy pound limit of luggage.
My mom was taking all these changes in stride. I knew she was sad to see me go, but Oregon no longer felt like home. Florida wasn’t home either, but Hale… Hale was where I wanted to be.
I’d contacted the restaurant and picked up my last paycheck. This time was a little more emotional than the last because I didn’t know if I’d ever work there again. My bosses were good peeps and they’d always been there for me when I needed them, so it was hard to say goodbye. Even Mel, our grumpy chef, gave me a hug.
Barrett came to pick up my car and drove it to wherever one drove that much stuff to be shipped. Hale was having dinner with Elara and his mother, who was returning to New York rather than joining us on the trip home. Okay, yes, I’d started calling Hale’s place home, but only in my head where others couldn’t hear, so it didn’t count.
Since we were leaving in the morning, I told Hale I was going to spend the night at my house so I could have some time with my mom before our trip. I also needed to keep an eye on Elle. But once they fell asleep, and it was just me awake, I couldn’t ignore the thoughts running through my head.
I was nervous. This was a bigger move than any of us were willing to admit. I was going to live with Hale, like, in his bed and have a drawer—many drawers—in his house. I couldn’t talk to him about why this made me nervous because it would come out wrong and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
I wanted to go back to Florida and it made sense to go, being that this was the only way I could afford to look after Elle, but maybe those were the wrong reasons to move in with Hale.
I googled the time difference between Oregon and Maine and finally gave in and called the one person who I knew could help me figure things out.
“Meyers, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,” Remington answered.
“I’m sorry to call so late.”
“It’s not that late. Hold on a minute.” I heard some shuffling and the distinct sound of a woman’s voice. Hale’s father had obviously gotten his strength back. “Okay. I wanted a drink. Talk to me.”
“We’re going back to Florida tomorrow.”
“That’s what I hear.”
“I won’t be able to go back to work right away.”
He made a gruff sound. “We won’t be back in the area for a few days anyway.”
“I… I’m going to live with Hale.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Am I being stupid, Remington?”
“We all do stupid things, Meyers, but if this gets you back where you belong, so be it. You outgrew your childhood home and waitressing some time ago.”
An unsteady grin twitched on my lips. For some reason, Remington believed I was cut out to be something impressive. Maybe I was, but I didn’t have his instincts.
“When will you be back?” I missed him. Though he was a big pain in the ass, I couldn’t deny the sense of confidence his presence brought.
“I have a few meetings tomorrow, but my business here is winding down.”
“I … miss you.”
He gave a gruff laugh. “Get your emotions in check, Meyers. This isn’t daytime television.”
I smiled, because, despite his prickly temperament, every cactus had a soft side. “I’ll see you soon, Remington.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Have a safe trip.” And there was the Remington I knew.
When I hung up the phone I was less afraid of what might come and more prepared to face my future head on—for the most part.
The next morning Hale picked us up and we rode to the airport. It was absolutely adorable seeing him push Elara in a stroller, but the adorableness stopped when she started to cry and shit herself right in the middle of our security screening. Flying with a baby no longer seemed like a fun idea.
Once we were on the plane, Hale got her settled. Elle buckled up and flipped through a magazine, but I wasn’t sure if she read a single word. I occupied myself by checking out all the luxuries that came with flying business class.
Rather than sitting side-by-side like the passengers in coach, we each had our own little, sectioned off pod area. Each chair altered directions, so we faced one another, Hale and Elara on my left, Elle and Barrett on my right, an ocean of floor space between us. My legs had plenty of room to stretch between my seat and a personal desk with my own private television.
As I explored, Hale fed Elara and Barrett and Elle chatted quietly.
I found a little bag filled with airline swag. “Did you guys see the fanny pack of goodies we get? Ooh! A blindfold!” I turned to Hale. “Do we get to keep this stuff?”
He chuckled and I played with my seat, which could recline to a flat position.
A flight attendant came around to take our drink orders. We had six hours to pass so I figured we should make it fun. “Can I have a beer? No, wait, how about a cosmopolitan?”
She nodded and disappeared behind a curtain by the cockpit. Hale smirked. “You’ll be smashed before we take off. Don’t forget it’ll be just after lunch when we land.”
Day drinking was always fun. A noon buzz was better. I waggled my brows. “Wanna join the mile high club?”
He laughed and glanced at Elara, who was now sleeping in his arms. Yeah, there wouldn’t be plane sex with a baby.
My drink was delivered and then came breakfast.
“This is real silverware,” I gasped, unrolling my fork from the linen napkin.
Everything was so fancy. Croissants and Canadian bacon, quiche, and a little parfait. It was a five-star meal. No bags of airplane peanuts here.
After breakfast, everyone decided to nap. I tried out my handy-dandy blindfold, but then I was just staring at darkness. I wasn’t tired.
Playing with the remote on the desk, I figured out how to get to the movies. Yes! True Lies.
When lunch rolled around, I was onto Caddyshack and super excited for the food. The drinks were included, so I ordered another Cosmo. I was totally crushing the upper-class version of Rayne Meyer. She was awesome, like Fergie in the Glamorous video.
Spreading my napkin on my lap I preened and sipped my cocktail, whispering out the lyrics, “G—L—A—M—we’re flying first class—popping champagne…”
“I’ve never seen someone so happy to travel,” Hale said, eyes squinting with amusement.
“This is fabulous, darling,” I gave him my rich person eyes, full on Betty Davis pre-What Happened to Baby Jane.
His laugh told me he totally understood and accepted I was the way I was. “Are you enjoying your lunch?”
“Absolutely. Did you get the kettle corn? I got both, the corn and the Dove chocolate. They said I could have both.”
He laughed again. “You can have whatever you want.”
My lips pursed. I wasn’t at the right angle to give him a shoulder bump, which was like a secret I love you handshake, so I tapped his knee with my socked foot. “You’re nice.”
“So are you.” He pinched my toes. “Where did these come from?”
“They were in the little fanny pack thing. Didn’t you get socks?”
“I’m sure I have a pair.”
I glanced at Elle and Barrett, who were both passed out. They even supplied pillows and blankets. Elara was curled up in Hale’s arms like an Anne Geddes portrait. I checked the time on my phone. “We’re halfway there.”
He arched a brow. “Living on a prayer.”
I stilled. “Did you just quote Bon Jovi?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Cheesy. I know.”
If it was possible, my love for him doubled. Elle no longer liked Bon Jovi, but apparently, my other half did. “It’s not cheesy at all.”
It was a sign. And I knew then and there… We’d make it… I’d swear.