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“You sure you’re okay?” she said, moving toward him.
“I’m fine,” he said and held up a hand as if to ward her off.
“Grady.” Pop stepped forward, yanking off his ball cap and holding it to his chest. “On behalf of the Gilmore plane service, I apologize for all this trouble. If you’ll just follow me to the hangar, I’ll write you out a refund right now.”
B.J. gulped, suddenly remembering he was a customer, and she’d just gravely mistreated her customer. Damn, he could sue her if he wanted, and not just for almost getting him killed, but probably for sexual harassment too. Shit.
But Grady shook his head. “No. . .just. . .just send it through the mail.”
He began to turn away when Leroy opened his dumb mouth. “Hey, you ain’t going to sue us now, are you?”
B.J. tensed and held her breath. She noticed her brothers and father doing the same.
Grady glanced around to glare at Leroy, and she was sure that was it. They were going out of business from one lawsuit. But Grady’s eyes flickered her way, silently studying her. “No, I’m not going to sue you. I just want to be left alone.”
He pivoted and strode away. Still feeling crappy for the way she’d treated him, B.J.’s shoulders deflated. This just wasn’t his week. And it was all her fault. Realizing the best thing she could do for him was leave him alone, she stood back helplessly and watched him leave.
Chapter Six
Grady waited two weeks after that near-fatal flight home before he visited the cemetery. With him, he brought a handful of Amy’s favorite flowers.
He’d played the Houston trip over in his mind a thousand times. There were so many things he could’ve done differently, should’ve done differently. He wasn’t proud of himself, and he wasn’t satisfied with how things had turned out. B.J. might’ve pressured him into doing something he hadn’t felt ready for, but he’d done it under his own free will and even instigated a good portion of it. He didn’t need to feel any kind of anger toward her for that.
But he did.
Then she’d turned around and saved his life the next morning, keeping her head under pressure and landing them safely. If she’d kissed him a second longer after landing, he would’ve overcome his shock and kissed her back. Hell, he probably would’ve taken her right there in the cockpit. And it wouldn’t have had anything to do with gratitude either.
“I guess you already know what I did,” he said without preamble, setting the irises at the base of his wife’s marker and kneeling down to sit on the grass beside the bouquet.
He gave a small laugh as he looked at his hands. “Yeah, you always knew what I did, usually before I was even going to do it.” Grinning, he lifted his face and stared at the name of his wife on the gravestone. “Remember when I proposed? You were holding out your hand for the ring before I’d even gotten down on one knee.”
Grady smiled for a good three seconds before his face fell and his muscles tensed in misery. Dropping his gaze from the name that always caused him heartache, he caught sight of a weed and pulled it up. Amy didn’t deserve weeds growing over her dead body.
“The funny thing is,” he confessed as he reached for another, “I didn’t feel guilty. Not during, anyway.”
Tossing the weed away from Amy’s plot, he lifted his face toward the bright day and squinted at the sunlight. For some reason, he wondered if B.J. was up there somewhere, cruising through the clouds in that death trap of hers. God, he hoped she’d fixed the fuel line.
Jerking his gaze guiltily from the sky, he turned back to Amy’s name.
“I always thought it’d feel different than this. I thought, I don’t know. . .I just assumed I’d think of you the whole time. . .that’d I have to close my eyes and pretend it was your lips I was kissing, your body I was touching.”
He shook his head and lowered his gaze, ashamed. “But I didn’t even remember you. Not till afterward.” Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes and confessed, “And that’s when the guilt finally came.
“I know I didn’t betray you,” he said after a moment of silence. “You’d want me to move on. And I know you’d even approve of the woman. You always liked. . .” He couldn’t say her name aloud, so he settled with, “her. But, God, I don’t know, Amy.”
Pausing, he wondered why he was confessing all this to someone who couldn’t hear him. Probably because she couldn’t hear him, he decided.
“I feel bad because I didn’t picture you at all through any of it. I didn’t think of how you—hell, I wasn’t thinking at all. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me. As soon as she touched me, my mind just shut down. I lost control of myself like I’d never lost control before. I just. . .I had to have her. . .right then.”
He winced when he whispered, “That never happened with you. I think that’s what bothers me most. I experienced something strong and intense with someone else and. . .it should’ve been you.”
He cradled his head in his hands. “I’m not sure what I’m trying
to say. I guess, I’m sorry. I’m all tore up because I felt something. . .something amazing, and it wasn’t because of you. You had nothing to do with it. Well, okay, it all started because we were fighting about you, but. . .as soon as the clothes came off, you were completely erased from my mind. I was so mad and desperate I would’ve done anything to get inside her. And I can’t even say it was just about sex. It was her.
“I hate to admit this, but if you’d walked into the room at that moment, I still would’ve wanted her.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “That’s what has me feeling so crappy. I wanted a person. . .a specific woman, not just some warm body to fill the space you left. For the first time in two and half years, it wasn’t about you.
