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“Will you bring Zara home to us?”
Her words hit me hard, but I nod. “I will.” I wait for her to run out of my room and for the screaming to stop before I put the phone back to my ear. “We’ll meet you at the airport.”
“That’s my boy!” Barbara hangs up before I have a chance to say anything. In the other room, Stormy and Willow are happily yelling, and I find myself quickly emptying my drawers so I can pack and be ready to go.
No sooner do I have my travel bag zipped, Willow attacks me from behind. “Is this why we couldn’t bring the dogs home yesterday?”
“No,” I tell her, shaking my head, but smiling. “They have to run a background check before they let the dogs leave the shelter, but we’ll be back in time to pick them up and bring them home.”
“Phew,” she says as she wipes her hand across her forehead. “I’m all about seeing Mickey, but didn’t want to leave the dogs.” Willow all but runs out of my room, hollering at her sister that we’re in the clear.
After Buck left, the girls and I went down to the shelter. It was easy to see why Stormy asked for two dogs. She had fallen in love with an old timer that was dropped off at the shelter in the middle of the night, while Willow wanted a pup. We paid to adopt both.
Now I get why a background check needs to be done, but since my life is played out in front of the media, everyone knows that I’m a stand-up guy. Everyone, that is, except the hard-nosed clerk at the shelter who didn’t even bat an eyelash when the girls and I walked in. No, she didn’t care that Levi Austin was coming to the shelter to adopt an animal. Didn’t even faze her.
While I was irritated with the policy, I’m thankful though because the last thing I would want to do is leave the dogs behind for June to take care of or ask my parents to watch them when they just got here.
Leaving my bedroom, I find the girls standing eagerly by the front door. As far as I know, Willow doesn’t have any idea what is actually going on, and I trust Stormy to keep the secret. We pile into my truck, turn the music on, and sing our hearts out until we arrive at the airport where Barbara is waiting for us at the private terminal.
Once our bags are checked, and we’re boarded, I lean my head back against the leather seat and close my eyes. The idle chatter around me is heartwarming and lulls me to sleep.
I jerk awake when the plane touches down. I’m a bit disorientated and not sure of the time. Not that it’s going to matter. I’m heading straight to the resort to get to the bottom of. . . well, everything.
Barbara takes the girls in one car, while I get into another. Willow looks confused, and I tell her that I have some business to take care of, but will meet them at the hotel later. I’m tired but focused on the road ahead as I drive into the desert, wondering what’s going to happen. I don’t have much of a case to plead. Van and Zara have a history, where we have weeks upon weeks of playing house. Deep down, I question whether I even stand a chance and fear that she’s going to tell me that it’s over. I don’t know what I’ll do, other than tuck my tail and drive to the happiest place on earth.
The valet greets me as soon as I put the car in park. The somewhat muted overhead lights give off a soft, romantic glow. Dread fills the pit of my stomach as I walk in the Spanish-style resort.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the counter says, smiling brightly. She looks as nervous as I do right now.
“I’m looking for a guest, Zara Phillips.”
She types away on her keyboard. “Who can I say is calling?”
“Levi Austin.” I feel as if this is a formality.
“Ms. Phillips, I have a Mr. Austin in the lobby. Yes, ma’am.” The desk clerk hangs up. I’m waiting for her to smile, but she doesn’t, and that pit in my stomach is slowly turning into a crater. “You can have a seat over there,” she says, pointing behind me. “Ms. Phillips will be right down.”
She’ll be down but didn’t ask the receptionist to send me to her room. I sigh and run my hand over my hair. Each step toward the couches is painful, and I opt to wait outside under the stars and the warmth of what’s left over from the sun.
“Levi.” Her voice rips through me like shards of glass. I turn slowly to find the woman I’m head over heels for stalking toward me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and her head buries between my arm and chest.
My reaction is immediate. I pull her as tightly as I can, holding her in the vice grip my arms have become. I refuse to think this is the last time I get to do this with her. It’s minutes later that she’s pulling away. The look on her face doesn’t match the feelings I have about the hug. She takes my hand and leads me around the side where there’s a patio, lit by lanterns, and casting a romantic glow.
We sit, across from each other, and I instantly want to leave. “What’s goin' on, Zara?” I reach for her hands, as she gives them to me willingly. “I’m really confused here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was ambushed. After I texted you, my phone died so I couldn’t call you and tell you that I needed help.”
“What do you mean?”
Zara shakes her head. “Let me start over. Hayden and Freddie were not in an accident. I got off the plane, and everything went to shit very fast. Van was in the limo. He checked himself out of rehab and just kept talking about giving him a second chance. As soon as we got here, I knew that the accident was a ploy to get me to California, and away from you.”
“So you’re not back together with Van?”
“Hell no!” she says rather loudly. “I want nothing to do with him, at all, which brings me to why I’m here. You see, the guys, not Darian, set this up to corner me. The band's manager from the label and my agent are also here, waiting for me to sign. . .”
“Sign what?” I ask.
“To sign over my interest in Reverend Sister or sign an affidavit that I will cease all communications with you. The label says you’re bad for my image, that sales are down and it’s because of our relationship.”
