Well, my gut was telling me that starting up a Montana magazine would give me the kind of challenge I’d been missing as a travel journalist this past year or so. And my heart? My heart was telling me to stay, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was telling me I needed to stay if I didn’t want to lose Jackson and Dash forever.
And I wanted forever with them.
I shook my head, gave her a brilliant smile. “I don’t need to book a new flight to Rio.”
She blinked. “Uh…okay.”
I walked up to the counter, leaned in. “But I do need your help booking me a new flight.” I grinned and knew without a doubt she was contemplating calling security on my crazy ass.
“I need you to book me a flight back to Montana.”
14
AVERY
* * *
The next flight to Bozeman wasn’t until the morning. Of course. I eyed the uncomfortable looking hard-backed seats at the gate and decided I’d have better luck catching some catnaps on the floor.
Not that I’d be able to sleep. I was far too wired with excitement and terror. Yes, I was scared. Not of gold mining rebels or Mexican drug cartels. I was petrified of my feelings. Of the love I had for my men. Of whether they’d still want me after leaving them. Again.
It had occurred to me that I could call Dash and Jackson, tell them I’d changed my mind, but I’d gotten voicemail.
I had to hope they weren’t ignoring my calls, but that was paranoia kicking in. I bit my lip, thinking about seeing their faces when I showed up on their doorstep and told them I was back for good.
I set my backpack on the ground and prepared to settle in for a long night. I’d just opened my paperback and started to read when the gates opened and the passengers from an arriving flight came out of the tunnel.
Two hotties strode out of the gate looking like they were on a mission.
Holy shit, it couldn’t be….
But they were there, and they were about to walk right past me. Laser focused. Quick strides. Determined.
“Dash?” I called out, climbing to my feet. “Jackson?”
My guys turned around and judging by their wide eyes and gaping mouths, they were just as shocked to see me as I was to see them.
“Avery?” Jackson said as they moved toward me. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” I asked, pointing at myself. “What are you doing here?”
Dash pulled me into his arms before responding, his grip so tight I could feel his pent-up concern. “We saw the fucking news and were worried about you, baby doll,” he said, his voice close to my ear. “We were on our way to make sure you were all right.”
I pulled back so I could see their faces. Their concern, their love…it was overwhelming. My throat closed up as tears filled my eyes. These guys who’d been born and raised in Bridgewater, had left behind their home, their jobs…their lives…just to make sure I was okay.
Me. The woman who’d run away without a proper goodbye, let alone any sort of promise to return.
Jackson noticed the tears in my eyes because he moved in closer, his arm coming around my shoulders. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
When I didn’t immediately answer, Dash asked, “What is it? What’s happened?”
I shook my head. “Nothing, it’s just…” Oh hell, I was outright crying now. “I’m just so happy to see you guys.”
They looked at each other for a second before pulling me in tight, wrapping me in a hug that left me breathless.
When they finally eased their grip, Jackson cupped my face in his palms. “What are you doing here at the gate? What happened to your flight to Rio?”
Before I could answer, Dash asked, “Was the flight canceled?”