And happy.
* * * * *
Nick
One and a Half Hours Later
Nick stood on the tarmac leaning against the beat-up old Defender he’d bought, watching the plane taxi toward him.
It stopped well away.
He didn’t move.
He just watched.
The door slowly folded open.
The stairs barely hit the concrete before she came out, quickly and awkwardly, walking sideways down the narrow steps, holding on to the railing, her eyes aimed his way.
Suddenly, after months, Nick could breathe.
She was in pants. A blouse.
They didn’t match.
Suddenly, after months, Nick almost smiled.
And she had on spike heels.
That didn’t stop her.
He finally pushed away from the truck when he saw her begin running.
He started toward her swiftly but had to stop as she picked up speed.
He braced for impact, which was good since, when she hit him, she nearly knocked him off his feet.
Her hands were wrapped around the back of his skull, her head tipped back, her hair streaming down the arms he’d curled around her, he got one look into her shining green eyes. A look that obliterated the cold dead he’d last seen in them, which was a look that had tortured him for months. A look that was so gone, he got half a second to wonder if he’d actually seen it before she was up on her toes and her mouth was pressed to his.
He had words he wanted to say.
He’d take the kiss.
So he took it.
The sob that tore from her forced its way down his throat as she ripped her lips from his and buried her face in his neck.
He liked that, that emotion from his Livvie, fucking loved it.
But he wasn’t going to give her time. Maybe later.
Now he had to know.
He dipped his head and put his lips to her ear.
“Do you believe, Livvie?”
She nodded immediately, her face moving in his neck, her body trembling in his arms, her fingers digging into his scalp.