Swept Away (2 page)

“As in, want to see me again after I, you know, gave away the milk?”

He laughed. “Am I missing something or are you really referring to yourself as the cow?”

“I notice you still haven't answered me yet.”

He looked at her and shook his head, his grin melting something deep and wonderful inside her. “Ella,” he said. “I'm bonkers about you. Can't you tell?”

She smiled and kissed him slowly on the mouth. “As with any new language, it takes me a while to pick up the subtleties,” she said softly.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispered, pulling her down to join him under the covers.

Four hours later when, finally forced by hunger to drag themselves out of Ella's bed and to the neighborhood Waffle House, Ella had pretty much convinced herself that she was in love for the first time in her life. It wasn't hard to believe. Everything she saw in Rowan's eyes mirrored what she was thinking and feeling.

The two fed off each other, reveling in how much they had in common, how unique and special the beginning of their love affair was. By mutual consent, neither talked about the impending separation.

They had waffles and scrambled egg plates piled up on both sides of them and they had already gone through two baskets of biscuits. Rowan loved a girl with a healthy appetite and Ella had that coming and going. In fact, he decided as he watched her, he thought he was damn near ready to admit that he was effing in love with
all
her appetites.

But the elephant in the room wouldn't budge.

Ella looked at him over the plates of bacon and the bowls of steaming grits. She leaned across the table and took his hand.

“It doesn't have to mean the end for us,” she said. “We can Skype and write and visit. We can make it work,” she said. “If…if you want to.”

Now she was staring right into his eyes, using those gorgeous brown eyes to move him all over the playing field. But especially back to her apartment.

“Get the check, Rowan,” she said. “We need to make the most of the time we've got left.” She drank down her coffee and started gathering up her purse.

Rowan didn't need to be told twice. He stood at the table to signal to the waitress.

R
owan drove
her to the international terminal at the Atlanta airport. He parked, stood in line with her while she checked her bags through to Frankfurt and sat with her at the Burger King before she headed for security and her gate.

And he already hurt like hell.

The last two and a half days had been a whirlwind of lovemaking, talking and feasting—usually in her bed, the sounds of their laughter, their groans of ecstasy echoing off the stripped apartment walls. As he watched her now, sitting so primly, almost nervously, her ankles crossed, her boiled wool jacket across her lap, her leather carryon beside her, he felt like he knew her as well as he had ever known anyone. In the two days they had had together, they had explored each other in every sense of the word and the next step should have been commitment and love.

Rowan watched her and noticed she was doing a good job of looking everywhere around the airport lounge except at him.

“You sure you got everything?” he said.

“Pretty sure,” she said brightly. “I'll get a bottle of water once I get past security.”

“Yeah, that's good,” he said.

Was he imagining the sheen in her eyes? Was she feeling what he was feeling? Only thing was, if she were feeling what he was feeling she would not be about to climb on that airplane.

“This really sucks,” he said.

She looked at him then.
Yep. Definitely tears.

“When are you heading back to Dothan?”

He knew she already knew the answer but it was something to say. Something other than
goodbye
.

“Couple of weeks,” he said.

“You look well enough to me to get back to work.”

He knew she was trying to be light and playful. He should make it easy on her. But it wasn't easy. He felt like shit.

“Maybe you ought to head on to your gate,” he said, hoping she would say no, that she had some time.

“I probably should,” she said, reaching for her bag.

It's always easier to be the one leaving,
he thought.
Being left behind sucks.

He stood up and reached for her carryon. Silently, they walked to the escalators that led to the security floor. He stood behind her on the escalator, watching how her hair cascaded down her shoulders and then flipped up a little. It was almost as if he were trying to memorize her. She turned and looked up at him and smiled, her smile lighting up her whole face and lifting his heart just enough. He leaned over and kissed her.

“I'm gonna miss you, beautiful,” he whispered.

“I'm gonna miss you too, Rowan,” she said. He saw her lips tremble and then she turned away.

At the entrance to security, he put the bag down and took her in his arms.

“It's not the end,” she said to him. “We'll make sure it's not the end.”

“Yeah, we will,” he said. He kissed her again and then watched her pick up her bag and walk away.

E
lla's
first week in Heidelberg was even better than she had dreamed it would be. The jetlag and then the excitement of so many new discoveries and places had swamped her emotions—just as she had hoped they might—so that she fell asleep numb and exhausted each night.

On the evening of her second day, she sat in her little furnished one-bedroom off Kleinschmidtstrasse and felt as close to happy as she ever remembered feeling. She snuggled deep in a large tub chair facing the window that overlooked the street with a view of a bookstore directly across from her apartment building. The street was ancient and her building dated back to the early seventeen hundreds. Just marveling at the texture of the ancient timbers in her ceiling gave her a feeling of peace and authenticity.

Ella tucked her feet under her and sipped peppermint tea from a large mug. She still had trouble remembering what o'clock it was Rowan-time, but he usually called about now so she kept her cellphone within easy reach on the coffee table. She knew the situation was easier for her. She had so many exciting new chapters all beginning at once and poor Rowan had to drive by
their
restaurant and
their
Waffle House and her old apartment.

She couldn't wait to tell him about her full day of exploring the new neighborhood. Tomorrow would be her first day at the new job. She hugged her knees and looked out the window at the bookstore. The proprietor was rearranging the display window with more books and props of the fall season.

The phone rang.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” Rowan said.

“What time is it there?”

“Three in the afternoon.”

“Wow. It's nine here. My day is already over.”

“How was it?”

“My German is so bad, Rowan. I found a very cool little grocery store around the corner but that bit about how everyone in Germany speaks English is a lie.”

“Well, that's partly why you're there, isn't it? To not speak English?”

“Yeah. It's just a little uncomfortable in practice. Plus, I didn't expect to miss you so much.”

“Wow, thanks a lot,” he said. “Me, I knew it was going to suck.”

“I think about you all the time,” she said. “When I'm not trying to figure out how to cross the street. They do it differently here.”

“Well, you know it'll get easier with time.”

“The streets or missing you?”

“Both.”

“I hope so,” she said. “I hate feeling this way.”

“What way?”

“Needy.”

T
he next day
, she rode the tram to her office in the center of town.

The office building her work was in was a modern one with wide sweeping staircases blanketed in marble studding an expansive lobby. The building was new and modern, and her office was on the third floor. She got off the elevator to be greeted by a large sign welcoming her by name:
Willkommen, Ella Stevens
.

That's nice
, she thought as she walked to the receptionist's desk. A beautiful woman with long blonde hair looked up and smiled.

“You must be Ella Stevens,” she said.

“I am,” Ella said, smiling back at her.

“I am Heidi, and we are so excited that you are here.” Her accent was strong but her English was excellent and Ella felt herself relaxing. At least work would be a place where she would know what to do.

“You are settled in your apartment?” Heidi asked. “I heard you were over on Kleinschmidtstrasse?”

“That's right. I love it. I took the tram this morning but I think I'll walk as a rule.”

“It is a beautiful neighborhood in Heidelberg,” Heidi said. “Very old.”

Wow
, Ella thought.
That doesn't make it different from most other sections of Heidelberg that I can see.

Heidi led Ella to a large corner office with a view of Bergheimer and Rohrbacher streets below.

“Oh, this is fabulous,” Ella said, putting her briefcase down in one of the leather visitor's chairs. She walked over to the window to look out. “I had a
cubicle
at my last job,” she said.

“We have been looking forward to your arrival,” Heidi said. “When you are settled, there is a meeting at nine o'clock with the managers. If you like, I would love to go to lunch with you today.”

“That'd be awesome, Heidi. Thank you,” Ella said.

After Heidi left her, Ella sat down at her desk and turned on her computer. Her first official email went to Rowan. Since it was two in the morning in Atlanta, she assumed he wouldn't get it for hours, but it felt nice to have him be the first person to hear about her new office.

It only took a few hours to nail down the specific duties of her new job. Ella could tell immediately that the job would not be challenging but that was fine with her. Now that she was living in a foreign country, she had all the challenge she could handle just ordering a meal or buying groceries.

At lunchtime, Heidi showed up in her doorway with a purse on her shoulder and a tall, stunningly handsome man at her side.

“Are you ready, Ella?” she said. “Do you mind if Hugo comes with us?”

“Not at all,” she said. “Pleased to meet you, Hugo.” They shook hands and Ella thought he held onto her hand a tad longer than necessary.

“I love Americans,” he said. “I used to live in America.”

“Oh, that's cool,” Ella said as the three moved to the elevator. “Where?”

“Indiana. It was after college. Very enlightening.”

Lunch was loud and fun. Ella was surprised to learn that drinking beer at lunch was not frowned upon—or at least that's what Hugo and Heidi told her. They lunched at a tourist spot in the old part of Heidelberg, off the main market square near the Church of the Holy Spirit. Ella had walked by it several times in her first couple of days of exploring the town.

Hugo was a large man but trim and lean. He gave off a strong scent of athleticism and Ella had an image of him playing soccer with his pals after work. Whatever was going on with the handshake, she did not mistake the fact that his knee stayed in constant contact with hers under the table throughout lunch.

On paper, Ella decided, Hugo might add up to look and sound a lot like Rowan. But there were some major differences she couldn't help but notice. Rowan was more taciturn, that was for sure. Hugo was positively chatty. And while he was witty in at least two languages, for her tastes he was almost too much.

As they were leaving the restaurant, he leaned over and whispered: “Want to get together tonight?”

Wow. Come right out with it,
Ella thought, slightly amused.

She glanced at Heidi who was the picture of someone pretending not to listen and Ella realized that Heidi was aiding and abetting Hugo in his attempt to pick her up.

“Thanks,” she said to Hugo. “But I've got a boyfriend back home.”

Which was weird because she hadn't known Rowan long enough to consider him her boyfriend by any stretch of the imagination and yet…whatever she felt for him she didn't completely feel free either. Was she using that as an excuse not to date Hugo? Did she
want
to date Hugo?

“The operative words there being
back home
, yes?” Hugo wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

“You're kind of a little devil, aren't you, Hugo?”

Heidi laughed too. “Only, at six foot three, not
too
little,” she said.

“Your boyfriend is alone tonight, you think?” Hugo asked in mock seriousness.

“Okay, Hugo,” Heidi said, wagging a finger at him. “Now you go too far.”

“Yeah, Hugo,” Ella said. “I'm still in the early stages of imagining him spending his nights bereft and alone. Besides, he's staying at his parents' at the moment so I feel confident he is lonely.”

“Is that because most American women typically do not have their own apartments?”

“Enough, Hugo,” Heidi said, but she was watching Ella to see if he was upsetting her.

“I'm fine, Heidi,” Ella said. She turned to Hugo. “Flattered,” she said. “But not interested. Thank you.”

“You are absolutely welcome,” Hugo said, as the three walked down the street toward their office. “But I wish you would wait until I have done something for which you will thank me.”

“He never quits, does he?” Ella said to Heidi and the two women laughed and teased poor Hugo the rest of the way back.

That night after work, Heidi and Hugo talked Ella into going out for drinks to commemorate her first day on the job. During the course of the evening, she let two calls from Rowan go to voicemail because it was too noisy in the restaurant to talk. And by the time she got back to her apartment, she was just too exhausted from her long full day to call him back.

W
hen she had been gone
for two weeks, Rowan began to see the cracks in their plan. For Ella, those two weeks were weeks of exciting, interesting events that chocked her days full and left her tired and often unavailable in the evenings. For him, not so much. He was due to go back to Dothan tomorrow. Truth be told, he had been ready to go back as soon as Ella left but he knew his folks were counting on him staying the full time with them.

It was Thursday evening. While Ella didn't seem to need a Friday or Saturday evening to spend the evening clubbing, he knew his chances of catching her at home were greater during the workweek. He opened up Skype on his computer and typed in her number. Their arrangement had been for him to call the same time every evening but sometimes she didn't answer, or if she did, she often could only talk for a few minutes. Lately, when he sat down to call her, he started to get a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. And not good queasy either.

Rowan sighed and drank from a bottle of Lone Star Beer at the desk in his father's den. He watched the digital clock on the computer and waited. He didn't usually consider himself the OCD type. It occurred to him that his waiting—after all, what did a few minutes on either side of the allotted time matter?—was just his way of putting off what was inevitably coming. It stood to reason that she would create a new life over there, one that didn't include him. He understood that. Hell, he'd expected that. It was different with him. His life was his work. There was room in it for her, but without her presence—either physically or emotionally—his work would just fill the vacuum.

He logged on and listened to the connection ringing.

“Hey, Rowan.” She picked up straightaway and Rowan felt his heart lift. Not since the first few days over there had she answered so quickly. She must have been waiting for him. Immediately, he tensed.
Why had she been waiting?

“Hey, beautiful,” he said. “You're letting your hair grow long.”

“Yeah, it's the style over here,” she said, patting her long dark hair. He noticed she had it down around her shoulders instead of twisted up in a bun or pinned up somehow. Up meant the office. Down meant she was going out.