He glanced out the window, staring blankly at the thick treetops outlining farming fields. The muddy Missouri River snaking through the green terrain. A sliver of ease crept in. This was home. It would always be home, even if the career he loved took him elsewhere.
He glanced at his watch, his first thought of Rubi and what she might be doing now.
Which was moot. Whatever chance he’d had of making something work with her, he’d killed by spilling the L-word.
Fortunately, landing and exiting the plane diverted his attention from yet another fuckup. He walked up the gate ramp, phone in hand, scrolling through messages searching for something from Whitney to tell him where she was picking him up. But his gaze paused on a text from Rubi.
RUBI: I can’t believe you sprang that on me and then walked away. What the fuck is wrong with you?
He shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the fuck was wrong with him, but he suspected being crazy in love with her while knowing emotion scared the crap out of her might have something to do with it. He would have texted that to her, but he was pretty sure it might make her board a plane to Australia, never to return.
He walked through the terminal and passed the security lines for passengers boarding a flight.
“Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!”
The joint scream sounded off to the side in a restaurant seating area. His nieces’ squeals swept over him like a cool breeze. A smile split his face, and his spirits soared. They were jumping on their toes, their little blonde heads bobbing, their excited, open faces exposing missing teeth. His sister, Whitney, her wheat-colored braid pulled forward over her shoulder, stood behind them.
His whole world righted. And for a moment, the pain faded.
“Hey there. ” Wes broke from the stream of pedestrians and dropped to his knees in front of the girls. He didn’t get his duffle off his shoulder before they jumped on him, Abby clinging to his neck, Emma attached to one arm. He wrapped them both close—Christ they were so tiny—and pressed kisses to their blonde heads. “Look at you two. You’re so beautiful. ”
He pulled back and looked down at Abby. Her crystal blue eyes sparkled up at him with so much innocent joy it squeezed his heart. “Where’d all your teeth go? How do you eat?”
“Lost ’em. Look. ” She opened her mouth, sticking a little finger in to point out every gap.
“Man, you must be rich. ”
“Uh-huh. ”
He smiled at Emma, always more reserved. “And you’ve got a couple coming in. ”
She grinned without meeting his gaze—eye contact was difficult for her—showing her beautiful new teeth.
He soaked in the sight of them, and his heart loosened. His troubles dimmed. He ran a hand over each of their feather-soft heads again, pulled them close to kiss their foreheads one more time, and stood.
“Hey. ” He stepped in to hug Whitney tight. “Thanks for bringing them. I needed that. ”
“They needed it too,” she whispered. “I’ll take your bag. You take them. They need some surrogate-daddy time. ”
Wes’s mind shifted to Wyatt, and his joy dimmed. He let Whitney take the duffle from his shoulder and pointed at Emma. “Shoulders to baggage claim. ” He pivoted his finger toward Abby. “Shoulders to the car. ”
Wes swept Emma up and onto his shoulders. Abby reached toward him, and Wes tugged her into his arms.
“Whit,” Wes said, “grab my phone from my pocket and get a picture of us, would you?”
She lowered one brow at him but did as he asked. “When did you become a shutterbug?”
Wes was saved from answering by the high-pitched stereo, “Cheeeeeeeeese” streaking from the girls as soon as they saw the phone pointed at them. Whit slid it back into Wes’s pocket, and they started toward the exit.
“Did you bring us presents?” Abby asked, her light eyes so round and bright.
“Would I ever come without bringing you presents?”
Whitney slid her arm into the crook of his and squeezed. “So good to see you. ”
Wes leaned toward her and kissed her head. “You too. ”
She stepped away, readjusted his duffle on her shoulder. “How was your flight?”