Page 104 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“So, did you get the guy?” Jamie asks. There’s so much about his history in Scotland he doesn’t talk about and I don’t want to push, so I let him change the subject.
“I did.” I dip my chin and smile. “He and Willow are moving to Tahoe. Breck’s hoping they’ll be there in time for fireworks on the Fourth.”
“I’m happy for you, Rory. I really am. He’s a good man. He’s good for you. And Willow—she’s a great kid. I couldn’t have asked for a better family for you.”
Family. My own family.
“You’re my family too, you know?”
“I know, but this is the one you’ve always deserved,” he says, the words choppy with emotion. I wish I could hug him right now.
“Thanks, Jamie.”
“I better go. They’re getting ready to board my flight to LA. I wish we were going to be there at the same time so I could hug you. You’ll let me know when you get home?”
“I will. You let me know when you get to Scotland, okay? Your grandparents are on Skye, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Take a picture on the ferry to Skye and send it to me. I’ve always wanted to go there,” I say, imagining it.
“Maybe you’ll have to take a trip there someday.”
“Someday,” I say dreamily. “Fly safe, Jamie.”
“Fly safe, Rory.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Breck
2 Months Later
The last two months have been a whirlwind. Willow finished her term at school while I focused on filing for our visas, selling our house to Wes and Joss, and handling the other million things that needed to be done for this move to be asuccess. All the while, Rory chipped away at things on her end. Finding us a house, doing the legwork for Willow to start school in the fall, and still managing to focus on growing Willow Tree. Today feels like the finish line at the end of a marathon.
This should be the last time we find ourselves in an airport for a while, and there’s nothing but joy in the atmosphere.
The escalator out of the secure area is crowded with people, so it’s not until we’re halfway down that I see her. And the sign in her hands.
It saysWELCOME HOME, BRECK AND WILLOW!and I think I might cry.
Home.
I squeeze Willow’s hand and she starts to jump up and down. This isn’t ideal on a crowded escalator with all our carry-ons, especially considering we are not traveling light. The airlines got their pound of flesh on this trip with the cost of the tickets plus the excessive number of bags we checked.
We reach the bottom of the escalator at last, and Willow takes off like a shot. She collides with Rory at full force, knocking her to the ground. When I reach them, they’re sprawled on the carpet, laughing and in tears. Instead of attempting to pull them up to avoid a further scene, I climb right on top.
Willow screams, “Daddy!” and the laughter from Rory only increases. It’s a laugh I’ve missed so much since she left Sydney.
I ignore Willow’s continued protests, knowing I’m not putting much weight on them, and lean down to kiss my woman. I watch her, detailing everything I’ve missed. The way her eyes brighten, the freckles across her face, the blush on her cheeks. When I kiss her, I hear as much as feel her inhale.
I pull back just enough to breathe the word “Hi” against her lips.
“Daddy, eww, stop! Get up!” Willow struggles beneath me, little hands pushing and prodding, but I’m not done yet. Ihaven’t kissed these lips in two months and I’m not about to stop because of tiny fists pummeling me.
When she pinches me though, that gets my attention. “Ouch! Hey, little ankle-biter, that wasn’t very nice,” I say, finally pulling back.
“You’re squishing me!” Willow harumphs.
