Slaying the Dragon (Deception Duet #2) (17 page)

“Come on. Let’s get you some food. I’m sure you must be tired from traveling all day.”

Nodding, I turned to grab the handle on my suitcase and she quickly tore it out of my hand. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve got this. Go on in, dear.”

In a daze, I walked through the doorway and into her stunning house. Just past the foyer was a sitting room, the furniture probably costing more than my entire college education. It was formal with a touch of personality. I half expected the house to be museum-like, but it wasn’t. It was a house for a family, and I could just picture the fights Tyler and his brother must have gotten into in this house.

The sound of paws clicking on the hardwood floor caught my attention and I looked down, my eyes growing wide as a stubby French bulldog came wobbling toward me, a silly grin on his face.

“Griffin!” I exclaimed, bending down to scratch his head. He barked in response, as he always did when someone said his name. “It’s so good to see you, buddy.” Panting, he briefly showered my face with kisses before a photo on the mantle in the sitting room caught my eye. I strode to the fireplace, Griffin close on my heels, and picked up the framed photo of a happy family.

“Griffin seems to like you,” Colleen commented, approaching me.

“He’s a great dog, stinky breath and all.”

She laughed. “You’ve got that right.”

“Is this your husband?” I asked, referring to the man in the photo who had those same green eyes as Tyler and his siblings.

“Yes. That’s Thomas.”

I returned my eyes to the photo, seeing a strong resemblance between the man and his two sons. He was tall and built, having dark hair and an exquisitely handsome and distinguished face. Colleen stood next to him and looked somewhat younger, perhaps in her late forties. In front of them sat a young woman with blonde hair and those trademark green eyes. Carol. She was probably in her late twenties or so. Next to her sat Alexander, a forced smile on his face. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Beside Alexander sat a child of no more than six. Tyler. He had the biggest grin on his face, his arm slung around his brother’s shoulders. From the photo alone, I could sense Tyler looked up to Alexander. I supposed he still did.

“You have a beautiful family,” I offered as I returned the photo to the mantle.

She placed her hand on my arm in a consoling manner, obviously noticing I was struggling not to crack. Not only was I pregnant, which caused my emotions to go from one extreme to the other within seconds, but I was still struggling with my feelings about what Tyler did.

“He’ll come back,” she encouraged. “I promise.”

“What if I don’t want him to?” I met her eyes. “What if I’m not ready to see him? To forgive him?”

“Mackenzie, sweetie,” she sighed, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the ornate white couch where we both sat down. “Forgiveness is a funny thing. Sometimes we don’t forgive people because they deserve it. We do so because they
need
it. I saw the guilt and remorse etched on Tyler’s face that day in March. It was a look unlike anything I had ever seen on my baby boy’s face, even after Melanie…” She glanced down, gently caressing my knuckles and squeezing my hand. “I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I can tell you this much. Not one day has gone by where you haven’t been on his mind. He may seem to have a tough exterior but, inside, he’s still a boy who has had his world ripped out from underneath him. His love for you is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“How can you tell?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“He’s my son. He’s part of me. There’s not a whole lot of gray when it comes to Tyler.”

I laughed, wiping my tears. “I noticed that.”

“When he loves, he loves with his entire heart. When he hurts, the pain is excruciating. I’m sure he’s spent every day since you left trying to figure out a way to convince you he’s worth you taking a risk on him again, despite what happened between you two.” She squeezed my hands, the gesture warm and precisely what I needed to assuage my fears. “Now,” she continued, her voice returning to its typical frivolity, “you must be starving. Do you like lasagna?”

I beamed at her, nodding.

As I sat watching her prepare dinner, I couldn’t help but be reminded of spending time in the kitchen with my own mother. Despite the posh surroundings, everything was so homey and comfortable. Time passed seamlessly as we sat at an informal farmhouse-style kitchen table and she told me stories about Tyler when he was a little boy. I told her about our crazy whirlwind romance that only lasted all of two weeks, but felt like we had known each other for years.

“Time doesn’t matter, dear,” she offered when I questioned whether he could feel as strongly about me as she insisted he did. “You can be in a relationship for years and feel nothing for the other person, or you can be together for mere weeks and feel something so strong, so beautiful, so perfect, you’d be a fool to walk away just because it hasn’t been long enough. Don’t let society dictate how long you need to be together. Love doesn’t grow. It happens, and you can’t control it. If you don’t feel it from the beginning, it’s not love.”

“When did you know with Thomas?” I asked, sipping my water. The smell of garlic and tomatoes made my stomach growl, and I couldn’t wait to devour the cheesy deliciousness she had prepared.

“Before he even said a word,” she responded, a dreamy glimmer in her eyes. “It was the summer after I graduated high school and I was enjoying my time with friends before we all went our separate ways. I was supposed to be leaving for college in a few months, and some of my friends were heading to teaching or nursing school. Others were hitchhiking their way across the country, trying to get to California. It
was
the sixties, after all.”

Her voice was gentle and calm, a warm smile crossing her face as if she were remembering the moment like it was yesterday.

“My girlfriends and I took the train into the city so we could go to the esplanade to listen to the Fourth of July concert and watch the fireworks. At the time, the drinking age was eighteen, so we brought a cooler and a few blankets, found a spot on the grass, and spent our day soaking up the sun. After a few hours, we ran out of beer, so I went in search of a concession stand to buy some more. There was a long line, but I waited, knowing my friends would be disappointed if I returned empty-handed. As I was heading back to them, balancing four beers in my hands, I ran into a very tall, very hard body, crushing the beers between us. It was like it happens in all those cheesy romance movies. Everything was in slow motion as I looked up from my beer-soaked tank top and shorts. I finally knew where the term love-struck came from because it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the atmosphere. When I saw his eyes, the most ferocious butterflies began fluttering in my stomach. The rest of the evening was a blur as I got to know this beautiful man, and I’m fortunate that I got to spend nearly forty years with him.”

“That’s beautiful,” I sighed.

“It wasn’t all easy for us. For the first several years, especially after Carol was born, we were barely scraping by. He was over in Vietnam for years, so I was forced to raise Carol without him. When he returned, she was already four. He had missed all of her firsts. After finding out he volunteered to stay in Vietnam after his first tour was over, even after he told me he didn’t have a choice, I kicked him out. His lies hurt, Mackenzie, so I know how you feel. But the time apart gave us both an opportunity to realize how much we couldn’t survive without each other. We both realized what was important in life. Thomas vowed never to lie to me again. He wanted to be there for all our next baby’s firsts, but we were in no position to try again. We were living in a studio apartment, barely making ends meet. I couldn’t find a job, even with the college degree I eventually got after having Carol. Employers didn’t want to hire me because I had a child. They wanted someone reliable who wouldn’t have to miss work because of an ill child. Things were a lot different back then.”

“I guess so,” I responded, shaking my head. I couldn’t imagine what she went through raising a baby while the father was overseas fighting a war.

“Then, one day, he got a letter. He had been trying to get in with the CIA for years, and had been faced with rejection after rejection. Finally, they agreed to see him for an interview. It was a long process but, two years later, we moved to Connecticut, bought a house, and he began working for the agency out of one of the satellite offices. He eventually started his own private security firm and we moved back up here.

“After he passed away, I traveled a lot. It wasn’t until my granddaughter was born that I decided to make Massachusetts my home once more and I’m glad I did so I could be around for all of her firsts.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, even though things may look bleak right now, life has a funny way of working itself out.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Burnham,” an imposing man clad in a dark suit interrupted, popping into the kitchen. Based on his stature, I knew he worked for the security company. Maybe he was Colleen’s version of Eli.

“Hello, William.” She looked away from me and gave him a congenial smile.

“I apologize for interrupting, ma’am, but I have news.” He slid an envelope in front of her and she opened it, examining the contents.

I turned my head to allow her to read whatever it was without me trying to look over her shoulder, but I was certainly curious. Instead, I occupied my mind with my surroundings. The kitchen was modern and homey. It opened into a laid-back sitting room with a large screen TV, and I could tell this was where most of the entertaining occurred.

“Thank you, William,” Colleen’s voice cut through, bringing my attention back to her and the formidable-looking man standing at ease next to her.

“Ma’am.” He nodded, retreating from the kitchen.

As if on cue, the stove buzzed, indicating that the lasagna was done. “Perfect.” She jumped up from her chair. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Are you kidding me?” I responded, rubbing my stomach. “This little guy has a monster appetite.”

“Well, he’s got Burnham DNA in him. He’s going to be a big baby.”

“How big was Tyler when he was born?” I asked, almost scared to know the answer.

“Nearly ten pounds. Word of advice, dear,” she said, looking over her shoulder as she retrieved the lasagna from the oven. “Don’t turn down the epidural.”

Tyler

T
HE
WHEELS
OF
THE
plane finally touched down at Logan International in Boston after midnight, the end of three very long days of traveling. The drive to the closest airport in Sudan was nearly fifteen hours, then a thirty-hour series of flights back to the States. It was torture. Every minute that passed was another minute Mackenzie believed I was avoiding her. After clearing customs, I debated continuing on down to Texas, but I was exhausted. No commercial flights would be departing for several hours and it would take just as long to get one of the company’s jets prepped for flight. I could use a few hours rest for what I knew would be one of my most difficult missions to date – convincing Mackenzie I was someone worth forgiving, that my love for her was real.

“So what’s the plan?” Eli asked, helping me carry my bags up the short steps of my house in Beacon Hill.

“Sleep for a few hours, I suppose. Then head back home.”

“Home?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. Home. Where Mackenzie is. I’m done being a coward. I’m not going to let my brother dictate what’s best for me anymore. For all I know, there may never have been any threat to our safety. Maybe he just made it up to keep me away from her. I don’t know, but I’m through being his pawn.”

Eli nodded before holding his hand out to me. I grabbed it and he pulled me in, patting my back. “Good for you. I’ll do what I can to get a flight plan in place for tomorrow, hopefully without your brother knowing.”

I smiled appreciatively at him. “Thanks. Call me with the details.”

“Will do,” he said, turning from me and hopping back into the cab we had shared from the airport.

Alone once more, I stared at my front door, my chest tightening. I hadn’t stepped foot inside this house since the day everything fell apart. I had my mom grab the few things I needed for my trip, too distraught to face the memories I made with Mackenzie within the four walls of the house that, for a brief moment of time, actually felt like a home.

After unlocking the door and disarming the system, I entered the foyer. Everything looked just as I had left it four months ago, but it was all different. Darkness enveloped the house, despite the light that was now flooding through the foyer.

The sound of my shoes hitting the hardwood floor echoed as I walked into the formal sitting room and poured myself a scotch from the wet bar. A strong memory rushed forward and I placed my hands on the counter, trying to steady myself.

“Something about being near you makes my heart race faster than it has in years. And I want this feeling to last for as long as possible, preferably forever. It took meeting you to make me realize I was lost. I was numb for years. I always held out the smallest glimmer of hope someone would come along to make me feel again, just like you did. So, yes, this is my home. Just like South Padre is my home. I’m home as long as I have you. Alaska could be my home. Antarctica, Idaho, a corn field in Nebraska. Fuck. I don’t care where, as long as you’re with me. You’re my home.”