Chapter 23

“What time did you say your flight leaves?” Lucia handed Joanna her suitcase and backpack.

“Six in the morning.” Joanna slung her purse over one shoulder and hefted the strap of her backpack over the top of it. “That’s why I’m taking the bus to Wilmington this afternoon to spend the night.” She glanced around the bus terminal parking lot, searching for the familiar Jeep that she instinctively knew wouldn’t be there.

“He’s not coming to tell you goodbye, is he?” Lucia gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze.

“Apparently not. I’d hoped once he calmed down that he’d change his mind.” Joanna swallowed hard against the growing ache threatening to choke her. “Obviously, I was wrong.” Either that or he still hadn’t calmed down.

She hadn’t seen Grant since he’d washed his hands of her and left the bedroom yesterday morning. He hadn’t come home last night and hadn’t called. She figured he was staying either at the Keep or at Castle Danu with Alec and Sadie, but she didn’t know for sure and didn’t have the guts to check at either place. She probably didn’t rank too high on the MacDara clan’s favorite-person list right now. All she knew for certain was that she’d found it impossible to sleep last night. Even though he wasn’t physically there, she’d sensed his presence and longed to see him—touch him—figure out a way to explain things and somehow make this decision right.

Joanna shook herself and pulled in a deep breath. Snap out of it. This is what the hell you wanted. She forced a weak smile and lifted her chin, determined to pull this off. “Is T still mad at me too?” Tyler had been just as angry and hurt to see her go as Grant had, and the seven-year-old hadn’t attempted to mince words when he’d told her just how he felt.

“Pretty much.” Lucia shrugged. “But he’ll adapt.” She stared at Joanna a long time while holding the suitcase and unconsciously bumping it back and forth against her shins. “Are you really sure this is what you want to do?”

“Of course.” Joanna cringed. Those words had come out entirely too fast and her voice was so high-pitched, she’d sounded like she’d squeaked. “Yes. I’m certain,” she said in a more authoritative tone. “Why? Don’t you think I’m making the right decision?” She needed somebody in her circle to reassure her, tell her she was doing the right thing. The more she forged ahead with this damned decision, the more isolated she felt.

“It’s not my decision and I’m not about to tell you what I think you should do. That wouldn’t be right—and knowing you, no matter which side of the take-it-or-leave-it fence I stood on, you’d argue with me.” Lucia smiled and nudged Joanna’s shoulder. “But I say that with love and you know I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Her look grew serious and worry creased her brow. “But you’ve been happier here in North Carolina than you ever were in Chicago.” Lucia turned and watched the bus entering the terminal’s gates. “I don’t want you to lose that happiness, Joanna. You haven’t had a whole lot of ‘happy’ in your life. Money isn’t everything, and you know as well as I do that Mr. MacKay and Grant would help you figure out a way to handle your debts.”

“I’m handling my debts by taking this job. End of story.” That had come out much sharper than she’d planned. “Sorry, Luce. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.” She adjusted her sunglasses and rolled her shoulders. “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much last night. Too wound up about the job and the trip, I guess.”

“You’re as bad a liar as I am.” Lucia handed Joanna’s suitcase over to the bus driver and watched him stow it in the compartment between the wheels. She turned back to Joanna, a pensive look on her face. “You know we could’ve taken the tour bus to Wilmington. Still can. You’d be a lot more comfortable and could stretch out on the bench seat in the back.”

“Nah.” Joanna wrinkled her nose and shrugged, struggling to seem like she had the situation under control instead of revealing how she was about to shatter into a thousand insecure pieces of am-I-wrong-or-am-I-rights. “This’ll be fine. Besides, Tyler’s got school tomorrow and he doesn’t need to miss class because of me.”

The real truth of the matter was that there was no way in hell she could keep up her end of any conversation all the way to Wilmington. The real and ever-present threat of bursting into tears was almost more than she could control right now. At least on the bus, her sunglasses would hide her red-rimmed eyes and she could pull her hat down low over her face and ignore everyone around her.

She looked around the parking lot again, praying that Grant would show up before she had to get on the bus. One by one, all the passengers boarded and the only one waiting to get on the bus was the driver. The older man nodded her way, then climbed on board.

“I guess it’s time.” Joanna cleared her throat and blinked rapidly several times, doing her best to keep the tears from overflowing. Dammit. I will not cry. She pulled Lucia into a tight hug. “I’ll call you when I’m settled in my room—okay?”

“Sure,” Lucia whispered in a broken voice, squeezing her even tighter before letting go and stepping back. She swiped the backs of her hands across her cheeks and sniffed. “You have a safe trip, sweetie. Text me like every hour, okay?”

“I plan to sleep most of the way, but I’ll text you—lots.” Joanna ducked her head and hurried to the bus. “Tell T that I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight too, so he’d better be over his poutiness!” she shouted as she glanced back and waved before hopping on the bus.

“I will!” Lucia shouted after her. “Love ya, sweetie!”

Joanna hurried up the bus steps, then bent and waved through the windows, her heart aching even more as Lucia slowly turned and walked away. She was on her own now. She had the job and she’d made the decision—all on her own. Well…this is what I wanted. Right? Now that she had this damned plan in motion, this plan that she’d been so sure was the right choice for her life, why the hell did it suddenly feel so wrong?

Luckily, the bus was only half full, so she got a window seat and had the entire row to herself. Thank goodness for small miracles. She wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation. She just wanted to sulk. Sulk? I’m the one that wanted this. But did she really want it now that she’d kicked this gut-wrenching ball of damnation into play? Last night without Grant had been torture—especially since she knew that wherever he was, he was suffering because of her.

She leaned against the window as the bus lurched forward. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of diesel and oil filling the air. Thankfully, the other passengers were relatively quiet. Other than the soft-voiced chattering of the pair of older ladies seated behind her, Joanna was left painfully alone with her thoughts and worries. Not only was she troubled about Grant and all that had transpired between them, she was beginning to wonder if she’d bit off more than she could chew with that damn job.

Ever since she’d given Lilian Tasker her conditional “yes,” her phone had been buzzing with business texts nonstop and her personal email box had already exceeded capacity. She’d finally had to silence her phone to escape the incessant notifications. Whatever happened to letting someone get in the office first and get acclimated before you tried to drown her with corporate bullshit? She could only assume that since she’d worked there before, everyone figured she already knew what was going on and was ready to dive in headfirst without any flotation devices intact.

I have screwed myself again. Royally.

How did she always do it—every damn time? She always made the wrong choices and was too stupid to realize it until it was too freakin’ late. She sniffed and angrily swiped at an escaped tear. What if she’d even gone so far as to lose Grant? I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve lost him. Never. She bit her lip and closed her burning eyes against more tears. Thank goodness for sunglasses and ball caps. She adjusted both and hunkered down in the seat as the bus lurched around a curve and started up a steep incline.

“Well, would you look at that?” said a quivering feminine voice behind her. Then a peck-peck-peck rattled against the window behind her like a woodpecker hunting a hollow tree for bugs.

Joanna closed her eyes tighter. Great. Now that I’m trying to go to sleep, they decide to talk louder and beat on the window.

“I’m glad you see him too, Esther, because I was afraid my meds were off again.”

Joanna hunkered down lower and propped her knees on the seat in front of her. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Maybe if she repeated the mantra over and over, she’d drown out the old hens and finally get some sleep.

“My, my, my. A man on a horse is sexy enough, but in a kilt? And nearly shirtless? If I was a few years younger…”

Joanna’s eyes popped open. Kilt? She whipped off her hat and sunglasses and looked out the window. It only took a moment to home in on the unbelievable sight the old ladies had spotted.

Léine untied and opened to the waist. Kilt fluttering back across the horse’s rump. Man and animal moved as one, galloping across the undulating hillside, running along the right side of the road.

“He looks like one of them Highland warriors out of the movies,” remarked one of the ladies. “Damnation, Esther. Damnation, I’m gonna need my oxygen.”

Joanna couldn’t agree more. Her heart thumped harder, making it difficult to breathe.

Broad chest revealed. Muscular thighs flexing with the ride. Reins resting easily in the palm of one hand, hammer clenched in the other. Grant’s blond hair was tied back away from his face and he rode crouched forward with his clenched teeth bared. Occasionally, he stole a glance down at the bus, then spurred his mount on to draw ahead of it.

The longer she watched him, the more certain she became.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, white-knuckling the top of the seat in front of her. She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and bounced and weaved her way up the aisle. “Stop the bus!” she shouted. “Stop the bus!”

The driver looked up, frowning at her in his overhead mirror. “You’re going to have to take a seat, ma’am. It’s unsafe for you to be up walking around on this stretch of road.”

“Stop the bus!” Joanna repeated as she lurched into the front seat behind the driver. “Please stop it. Now. I’ve got to get off.”

“I can’t stop the bus and put you out here in the middle of nowhere,” the driver argued. “Unless you’re feeling sick. The restroom is at the rear of the bus if you think you’re going to vomit.”

What a good idea. Joanna slapped her hand over her mouth and pretended to gag. “I can’t make it to the restroom,” she gasped. “Please stop or I’m gonna—look out!”

Grant and his horse galloped down the hillside at breakneck speed, cut across the highway in front of the bus, and reared to a stop in the middle of the road.

“Holy shit!” the driver yelled. He stomped down on the brakes and pulled the emergency brake lever at the same time. Tires squealed, air brakes hissed, and both passengers and loose bags lurched forward with the sudden stop.

Joanna rose from the front seat and sidled into the aisle. Icy fear clutched her heart and squeezed, making it impossible to breathe as she bent and looked out the windshield. She sagged against the steel pole curving around the driver’s seat and didn’t bother fighting the tears any longer.

Neither Grant nor the horse moved. They remained in the middle of the road. Waiting. Grant stared at the bus with a murderous scowl and lifted his hammer.

“Open the door!” She pounded on the steel pole. “Open the damn door,” she repeated with a firm shake of the driver’s shoulder to break him free of his stupor.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, never taking his eyes off the strange sight blocking the road.

Joanna bounded down the steps and ran to Grant. She came to a halt within a few feet of him, suddenly at a loss for words. What the hell would she do if he didn’t forgive her and take her back? She reached inside her shirt and fished out the MacDara brooch she’d fastened to a ribbon and worn every day since the minute Grant had given it to her. She cupped it in her hand, sent up a silent prayer, then pressed a kiss to the colorful stone before letting it fall back on her shirt in full view.

“Grant…” What could she say? Better yet—what should she say?

“Aye?” Grant slowly lowered his hammer and rested it atop one bulging thigh.

She moved a few steps closer, swiping the tears off her cheeks. She chewed on her bottom lip, wishing like hell she could figure out exactly what Grant was thinking so she’d know what to say. Finally, she gave up. Either he’d forgive her or he wouldn’t. She pressed her hand on top of the engagement pin hanging between her breasts.

“Grant,” she started again as she walked toward him. “Grant, can I please come home?”

Grant’s eyes flared wider the barest bit, but just enough for her to notice. The fingers of the hand he had resting on the lip of his saddle flexed open then slowly curled into a fist.

“Home?” he repeated. “You?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Home.”

“How long?”

“Forever.”

Grant didn’t answer, just stared at her with an unreadable expression for what seemed like an eternity.

“Please,” she whispered in an even quieter voice that she doubted he could hear.

In one smooth motion, Grant dismounted and stood in front of her. Hesitantly, he drew her close, slid one finger under her chin, then gently but firmly lifted. “Forever? Ye swear it t’me?”

Joanna reached up and cupped his face, rubbing her thumb across the overgrown stubble shadowing his cheek. “I swear it. There’s not a thing on earth that will ever make me leave you again. No job. No amount of money. Nothing.” She sniffed, blinking fast as the tears started again. “I’m so sorry that I was such a fool. Please let me come home.”

Grant answered with a kiss.

Cheers erupted from every window of the bus. The driver honked the horn and flashed the lights.

Joanna tucked her head to Grant’s chest, then wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Take me home, Grant.”

“Gladly,” he said as he swept her up into his arms, placed her at the front of the saddle, then took his place behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and snugged her back against him. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “One more thing, lass, t’seal the bargain. No more condoms, aye?”

“Aye,” she laughed. “No more condoms.”