Leo Maddox (14 page)

“Did you just buy a ticket so you could walk me to my gate?” she asked, squeezing my hand and narrowing her eyes up at me. “You shouldn't have done that. I would have been perfectly fine alone.”

“I know, but I wanted to walk you,” I admitted.

“You're ridiculous. Kind of sweet, but still ridiculous.”

“I'd buy a thousand tickets for the chance to spend a few extra minutes with you. To be honest, I'm a little worried that at any moment I'm going to wake up and this will have all been a dream—you’ll hate me again, and I'll still be stuck trying to figure out how to change that. So, yeah, of course I'm going to try to prolong the moment.”

At my words, Clara grabbed my neck and pulled my lips to hers. My mouth was partially open and she caught me off guard. I sucked in a sharp breath and instantly gave into her kiss, which was passionate, tender, and mixed with lots of emotions. This kiss was so much more than a goodbye kiss.

Final boarding call for US Air Flight 833 to Roanoke. Final boarding call.

Dammit, they were calling her flight. Clara quickly pulled out of my grip, before I even had a moment to protest, and she left me to board the plane. But then at the last second, she turned back around and rushed back in my direction.

And in a move that was beyond dramatic, but something that embodied Clara’s personality and that I loved, she leapt up into my arms. Her legs locked around my waist and again she kissed me. She kissed me and held onto me like we weren’t in a crowded airport, like we were the only two people present. Hell, the only two people left on this earth.

“Fuck, Clara,” I growled into her sweet mouth. My hands tangled into her long hair, and I had no choice but to meet her kiss with equal intensity. “You're making me want to strip you naked and have my way with you right here on the airport floor.” I set her down, her feet hitting solid ground. “Now get your sexy ass on that plane. Please.”

She rolled her eyes. Actually rolled her eyes at me. “Just so you know...if you're dreaming, then I'm dreaming too. And I'm going to make sure you never wake up,” she promised. Then she left me and boarded the plane.

I stood and stared at the spot she’d disappeared from for about thirty seconds. Then I raced through that airport. I had to get back to Blue Creek.

Now.

* * *

T
he closest major airport to Blue Creek was the Roanoke Airport. And Roanoke was a good two hour drive from Blue Creek. I arrived in my dad’s jet at the Blue Creek local airstrip with only about a ten minute drive ahead of me. So I knew I had about a two hour head start on Clara. I needed that time to speak with Reed.

Because I was going to ask for his permission to date his daughter.

I went straight to his house. After knocking and knocking on the front door, I came to the conclusion that Maggie had already left to pick Clara up and Reed wasn’t home. But I had a key of my own, so I let myself inside.

Yep, no one was home. It was very eerie being in the Ryder house all alone. And I was about to leave when I spotted a note on the counter. It read:

Clara,

We're having a family dinner tonight. Six sharp. Also, I scheduled you to work today at 11:00. Check in with Mary Ann at the Pro Shop. You'll be giving golf lessons. Dress appropriately please and don't make a scene with Mary Ann.

Love,

Your (very angry but trying to keep his cool) Dad

I had no idea why Reed would be ‘angry and trying to keep his cool’ with Clara. She’d been in New York with me. Maggie came to visit me all the time. What the fuck was his problem having Clara come with me? I wasn’t sure, but it left a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. If I told him that I wanted to date her, would he even allow it? He better because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Leaving the Ryder’s house, I marched across the golf course. If I knew Reed (and I did) then I knew he’d already be golfing. I went straight for the Pro Shop because he’d mentioned it in that letter to Clara. My trek across the mile of grassy course ruined yet another pair of my favorite shoes.

Mary Ann was a bitch. I’d never cared for her. But I usually hated most people, so maybe she wasn’t as bad as she seemed. Who the hells knows. I came into the Pro Shop to find her and a small crowd gathered around a speaking Reed. He noticed me enter the room, pausing his speech for a moment to nod in my direction, before continuing on with whatever he was saying.

“So anyway, Clara will be giving away free golf lessons this week and next. If anyone wants to sign up for a one hour time slot, here is the signup sheet.” He set a clipboard down on Mary Ann’s desk. “The times start at eleven this morning. If you could pass the word along for her, I’d appreciate it.”

What the fuck? I was damn near positive that Clara wasn’t going to want any part of this. Golfing was something Maggie, Clara, and I had all been raised on. But Clara, the most talented of the three of us, didn’t golf anymore. In fact, at her high school graduation party, she’d had a huge blow up at her dad, where she basically told him to his face she’d never golf again. And she hadn’t. To my knowledge she hadn’t picked up a golf club since that day. The worst part of it was, she used to love golf—so much that I knew her refusal to play was merely a giant
fuck you
to her father. But still, either way, I felt like Reed had no right springing this on her.

Pressing my way through the small crowd, I took the clipboard first. “Hi, Reed,” I muttered, signing my name at the very top of his list. When Clara showed up for her first lesson today—
if
she showed up for her first lesson—it would be me she’d find. And she wouldn’t have to golf with me if she didn’t want to. Hell, golfing was about the last thing I wanted to do with Clara.

Then I passed the clipboard to Mr. Sinclair, an elderly man who’d been a member at the club for years, and turned my attention back to Reed.

“Hi, Leo,” he said to me. “Are you okay? I heard Clara ran you over with a golf cart after Friday’s party. I’m sorry she’s been acting out lately and took her anger out on you. I’m going to have a serious talk with her when she gets home from New York this morning. She can’t keep pulling this shit. And don’t even get me started on her ordeal with Andrew Wellington. That boy has been by the house five times this weekend looking for her. He’s beginning to rub me the wrong way.”

The man was clueless—
fucking
clueless. And I laughed out loud because of it. “Clara was with me in New York this weekend, Reed. And whatever was going on with her and Andrew…well, it’s definitely finished now.”

It better be over with her and Andrew. And I assumed it was given the way last night went.

“Oh,” Reed muttered, running one of his tanned hands through his thick blond hair, and staring at me. He understood exactly what I was saying.

“Yeah. Oh,” I repeated. Nervousness prickled through me as I waited for his response. Hardly ever did I care what someone thought of me—but I cared what Reed thought.

Then he smiled. I mean really, genuinely smiled. And he squeezed my shoulder for a brief second before walking toward the exit.

“Wait,” I called after him. “Aren’t you going to say anything else?”

“No.” He shrugged, turning back in my direction. “Is there something I should say?”

“Aren’t you going to say you always expected Maggie and me to end up together? Isn’t that what everyone always says?”

“Leo…I’ve never expected you to end up with Maggie.” And then he walked out that door, his golf shoes clicking on the wood floor of the Pro Shop, leaving me completely dumbfounded. That went surprisingly well.
And I didn’t even have a chance to ask him anything!

With about an hour to kill before I expected Maggie and Clara to return from the airport, I headed over to the valet parking. I’d left my car there several days ago and it was about time I picked it up.

CHAPTER 13:

D
ammit.
Who the hell owns so many random books?

I swear to God, I’d already found three different copies of Great Expectations in my father’s library. Correction,
my
library. And none of them were
the
copy. None of the books I’d found had that little clover tucked inside the pages. I think I was losing my damn mind looking for this thing. Clara had mentioned the name of that book and now I desperately needed to find it.

When I’d bought this house from my father, I’d bought it with every intention of tearing the place apart, remodeling, and turning it into my own place. So far, I’d done none of that. And…well, now I suddenly had a million impulses to do what I’d always wanted to do. And I guess starting in the library was as good of a place as any.

Of all the rooms in this house, the library was one of the spots I wanted to keep the same. Mostly because of that one memory I shared with Clara inside this room. But most of the books filling this library needed to go. They were random. Most of them duplicate copies. Probably bought only to fill the shelves. So as I searched for this clover, I started sorting out the books I wanted to get rid of. An hour easily slipped by as I fell into an easy rhythm, searching and sorting. And as it neared eleven o’clock and my appointment with Clara, I hurried upstairs to change into the proper golf attire.

I’d just finished getting dressed, in a white golf shirt and khaki pants, when the buzzer on the front gate sounded through the house—alerting me to the fact that someone was here.

And, low and behold, it was Robby who appeared on the video screen showing off the front gate.

Did he even have a brain in that thick skull of his?
Couldn’t he leave Maggie the hell alone already? He really wanted to start shit, didn’t he? I buzzed him through the gate and headed outside to meet the asshole. My temper and my heart rate were both flaring as I charged down the stone steps, toward my driveway. What was he trying to prove?

His truck pulled close to where I stood.

“Look Leo,” he said, opening the door to his truck and hopping out. His brown hair was floppy and messy and today he wore his facial hair scruffy. He’d been more clean-cut the night of the gala, but today he looked more like the Robby I used to remember. Well, the taller version of that Robby. “I know that you don’t want to hear this,” he started to say. “But—”

My cell phone was ringing, interrupting whatever pathetic speech he was about to give me. I’d turned it off vibrate in case Clara tried calling me today. And as I went to answer it, I noticed that it was nearly eleven. Fuck Robby. I didn’t have time for his bullshit right now.

Ironically though, it was Maggie who was calling. So I answered immediately.

“Hey, Mags. You won't believe who—” I started to say to her, glaring at Robby as I spoke.

“Did you know about Andrew?” she blurted out, cutting me off, her voice a little frantic. “Did you know about him cheating on me?”

“What?” I asked. Maggie sounded as if she was on the verge of crying. I motherfucking hated Andrew Wellington, but I never knew he’d cheated on Maggie while they were together. I turned away from Robby to ask, “Cheating when?”

“I don't know. Something like the entire last year we were together.”

“I'm at my house. Come over. Now, Mags.”

“Okay. I'll be right there,” she whispered and then her line went dead.

I figured, being that Maggie had driven Clara home from the airport, that Clara must have been the one to inform Maggie of Andrew’s infidelity. I guess I wasn’t too surprised to find out that Fuckhead was a cheater on top of being an asshole. But why would Clara, knowing this about Andrew, ever go for him? It made no sense.

“Was that Maggie on the phone?” Robby asked. I’d nearly forgotten about him standing there with me.

“Yes,” I muttered, still in shock. “And she’s on her way over. Right now. And she’s upset.”

“Is she upset because of me?”

“No, you dipshit. Not because of you. She has other issues in life and none of them revolve around you. So you should stop trying to convince yourself that any of us even remotely care about you or where you’ve been for the last six years.”

The next moment Maggie’s red car pulled into my driveway. It screeched to a dramatic halt a few feet away from me. She stepped out of the car and I moved across the pavement to catch her in a hug. Maggie was like a little sister to me. I always looked out for her. I always protected her. Because she’d always needed me to. And it hurt me whenever I failed at that job. Sometimes I wished she had Clara’s tough exterior, but she didn’t.

“I didn't know about Andrew,” I whispered to her. “I'm so sorry. Who told you this?”

“Clara,” she whispered back, confirming what I already knew.

“Why would Clara date Andrew if she knew that?” I growled, pulling away from Maggie. Suddenly
I
felt just as hurt as Maggie looked. Was everything that had happened between Clara and me some sort of lie too? Some sort of game. I couldn’t make sense of why she’d decided to date Andrew on a whim. Was she doing the exact same dramatic bullshit with me too?