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“And let’s not forget putting glitter all over the fan blades in my bedroom during my fifteenth birthday,” I finished. “I was cleaning that up for months. Years, maybe.”
Jace laughed again and held up his hand. “Guilty.”
“Damn,” I swore happily. “How long has it really been?”
He slung my carry-on over one giant shoulder and pointed toward the baggage carousel. “Too long.”
A few minutes later we were hopping into a Ford Bronco with oversized tires; a beautiful green-and-white relic from the mid 1990’s. We took off with the windows rolled down, and I gawked shamelessly at the scenery. The Hawaiian air was sweet and fragrant and pregnant with a thousand open-ended possibilities.
We made small talk at first, mainly because there was so much to say. We asked about each other’s jobs, lives, and what we’d been doing since the last time we’d laid eyes on each other. Even with Tyler as common ground, the time gap was so big it seemed almost insurmountable.
“So tell me,” I finally asked, as the beautiful palm trees raced by. “What kind of favor requires sending all the way to Minnesota for little old me?”
Jace bit his lip. “A… pretty complicated one.”
“Really?” Now I was little more than intrigued. “Do tell.”
“Well, I sort of got myself into a little white lie…” said Jace. “And it eventually snowballed into something bigger.”
The big arm guiding the 30-year old steering wheel flexed casually with each turn. That arm was ripped and tan. Exquisitely wonderful. As we picked our way through the streets, I couldn’t stop looking at it.
“We’ll go to my place first,” said Jace, “so I can fill you in. But yeah, I messed up and things quickly got out of hand. I’m in over my head now,” he turned to me and smiled, “but I appreciate you coming to help.”
Help.I still couldn’t imagine what kind of help this man needed. He looked like he could lift the couch with one hand and vacuum under it with the other.
“As a matter of fact—”
His sentence trailed off as we pulled into the driveway of some cookie-cutter house in a cookie-cutter neighborhood. Jace killed the engine, just as one of the neighbors raised an arm cheerfully from the porch next door.
“Ah, shit.”
Jace’s handsome face had suddenly gone red with worry. Putting on his most plastic smile he returned the gesture, but not before circling around to help me out of the Bronco.
“Jace, what are we—”
His hands felt electric on my hips. For a split second I was weightless in his two big arms, and then I was standing on the pavement… holding his hand.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Jace whispered back to me. His fingers squeezed gently as they interlaced with mine. “For now, just please—”
“JACE!”
The young woman from next door bounded over happily, now with her husband at her side. Their smiles were so big, so bright, they seemed almost painted on.
“At last!” she cried. “After all this time!”
The woman extended an enthusiastic palm my way. Still clasping Jace in my right hand, I reached out awkwardly with my left and shook it.
“We finally get to meet Jace’swife.”
