4. Ash
The angel from Flint’s is here in the flesh, dressed in a baggy red t-shirt and shorts, laughing nervously at Evie’s chatter as she forks up home fries from a bowl in her lap. Every now and then, she darts a curious look at me, and each time it’s like a spear lances clean through my heart.
Tess.Rowan’s younger sister. It is her. They’ve got the same misty gray eyes, the same dark hair and tan skin, the same dimpled cheeks when they smile. They’re so clearly siblings now that I see them on the same deck.
And I am royally fucked, because I cannot look away.
Tess.
Part of me is listening dutifully to the conversation, and the rest is digging through dust-covered boxes of memories in my brain, trying to remember all the stories Rowan ever told me about his baby sister. Like the time she pranked him at ten years old by rigging up a sheet to dance in his bedroom doorway like a ghost; the time she won a gymnastics ribbon in middle school. The fact that she had a pet goldfish once called Harry. Every crumb of detail I dig up about her, I pounce on hungrily.
Tess.Christ.
She’s staring at me now, gray eyes unblinking, like she’s as enraptured by me as I am by her—and if that’s not wishful thinking, I don’t know what is.
This right here is the most beautiful woman that ever walked the earth, and I’m a man who gets pointed at by gaping little kids. I scratch the back of my neck, my cheeks hot with self-consciousness, but I still can’t bring myself to break eye contact with her.
Because Tess is sweet and pretty and her t-shirt’s all damp from swimming in the lake this morning. She already apologized for that, mumbling that she didn’t realize they’d have company—as if I don’t love seeing her all natural and relaxed. As if the little escaped wisps of hair around her hairline don’t make me want to beat my chest and howl.
And now we’re sitting across from each other on this deck, gazing at each other like we’re the only two people in the universe as Rowan and Evie keep the conversation going. Can’t make sense of this, but maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want the fantasy to stretch on a little longer.
Then Rowan claps my shoulder on his way back into the cabin for more ice tea, and I’m jolted back to reality. My gut plummets, and my skin flashes cold.
That man is my best friend. He’s been through a lot, and he’s expecting a new baby next month. The stakes for Rowan have never been higher, and here I am, sniffing around his little sister? Threatening the stability he’s fought so hard for?
My wooden chair creaks as I lean back, sickened.
Doesn’t matter if Tess is fascinated by me too. We can’t ever act on it. It’s wrong of me to even consider it.
“Still hungry?” Evie asks, flipping her red hair over one shoulder before reaching for our bowls. “There’s plenty more in the pan.”
“I’ll get it,” Tess offers, shooting to her feet. Suddenly, she’s looking anywhere but at me. Maybe she had the same realization—that this is doomed before it’s even begun. “Sit down, Evie. Put your feet up. You shouldn’t be waiting on us right now.”
Rowan’s heavily pregnant wife rolls her eyes, but settles back down on the bench. Tess squeezes past, taking my bowl on the way to the door. For a split second as I hand it over, our fingertips brush, and I swear I feel that tiny ounce of contact burn all the way down to my soul.
Tess scurries into the cabin like her hair is on fire.
Evie beams at me. “You two make a cute couple,” she says, laughing when I hush her with a frantic wave. Rowan ducks back out of the cabin, a fresh jug of ice tea in his hand.
“What’s the joke?” he asks, refilling his wife’s glass first. Ice cubes clink together, and I stare at the jug with pure longing, imagining shoving my face in there and drowning myself to escape this conversation.
“Nothing,” Evie says sweetly. “Just saying it’s Ash’s turn to settle down soon.”
Rowan grunts, refusing to pile on, and Christ, I could hug him for that. Knew we were buddies for a reason.
“We’re hiking up to the wishing pool with Ash this evening,” Evie says when Tess comes back out, a tray of steaming bowls in her hands. She presses her lips together, handing out the second helpings as Evie goes on. “You’ll come won’t you, Tess? It’s supposed to be a beautiful night, and I need someone to keep poor Ash entertained while I walk slower than a tortoise.”
I shovel a forkful of home fries into my mouth, staring at the deck as I chew. Don’t pressure her. Don’t stare.
“Sure,” Tess says at last, settling back down on the bench. “I’ll come.”
My foolish heart does a cartwheel in my chest.
This is a terrible idea.
* * *
Rowan and I clear up the breakfast things, me scrubbing plates in the soapy sink while he dries with a blue and white striped dish towel. The ladies have left the deck to wander through the trees, pointing up at the birds flitting above, and I’ve never been so relieved and so pained to have some distance from a person.
Seriously. I first saw this girl less than twenty four hours ago, and already I’m craving her presence. What the hell is happening to me?
“Tess doesn’t trust me yet,” Rowan says out of nowhere, hanging a blue enamel mug back on its hook on the wall. The water sloshes around my wrists, soap bubbles clinging to my arm hairs. “She still thinks I’m going to snap and go back to that cave.”
For a moment, I weigh my words. Then think: to hell with it. I’m not built for pussyfooting around. “And… are you?”
Rowan grunts, unoffended, and plucks a plate from the drying rack. “No. Definitely not. Ever since I met Evie… well, I have something bigger to live for now. I know it probably sounds crazy from the outside, but I’ve never felt more level-headed. More stable.”
For some reason, that statement makes my chest ache. Not only because I’m lonely and envious as hell of my buddy’s great love, but because I can’t help thinking of Tess, left behind in Starlight Ridge to wait and hope and pray that one day her big brother would come home.
I get that it’s a different kind of connection. That Rowan worried about his sister like crazy, checking on her every few months, wracked with guilt. He tried his utmost for her, and no one could ask any more.
But still, it’s Tess I’m hurting for.
“Cut your sister some slack.” I fish under the suds for a handful of dropped spoons. “She waited for you for a long time, and she was helpless to save you all the while. No wonder she’s paranoid now.”
It’s funny—because I could just as easily be talking about myself. After all, how many times did I call Rowan’s answerphone, knowing full well that he’d ditched his cell long ago? How many letters did I send that went forever unopened?
All that time, I didn’t even know where he was. Otherwise you bet your ass I’d have been here too, staking out Starlight Ridge for the return of my best friend. He’s the only family I’ve got.
Rowan sobers, and we wash and dry in silence for a while. When I glance over, my buddy looks a decade older, his shoulders tensed like mountains of guilt are weighing on them.
“If I could take it all back,” he begins, then cuts off with a shake of his head.
“You weren’t well,” I say simply. At the end of the day, that’s all there is to it. If Rowan broke his leg, we wouldn’t judge him for not running on it. This isn’t so different—except his injuries were invisible, caused by the demons that came home with him from war.
And it’s not like he met Evie and a magical switch was flipped. She was the catalyst, sure, the inspiration for something better, but it’s been a lot of work since. For the last year, Rowan’s had weekly therapy and read every book on PTSD recovery he could find. The guy’s putting in the hard yards, and you’ve gotta respect that.
“You’re doing fine,” I say, proclaiming it to the kitchen sink. As I hear the words, I’m pleased to discover I believe them. “Just fine. I’ll tell Tess that too, if you like. Later at the wishing pool.”
Rowan nudges my shoulder with his own. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
Lord knows why Tess would believe it from me, of all people, but hey… maybe I can help her feel better too.
Turns out I’d do pretty much anything to make that woman feel better.
“She grew up a lot while I was gone. Tess was sixteen when I first left for active duty. She’s twenty five now, and so much has changed.” Rowan slides a plate onto the stack in the cupboard, talking quietly so the girls can’t hear us from outside. “It’s like she’s jaded. Hardened by life, and so young. I don’t think she’s ever even been on a single date, not that she’s told me anyway, and she already jokes about being alone forever.”
My gut sloshes worse than the soapy dish water.
“Well, dating’s not for everyone.” My tone is light, but inside I’m wailing. Does that mean I’d have no chance with her anyway? Even if this weren’t off limits? Has the woman of my dreams sworn off relationships forever? For some reason that’s depressing as hell, even if I can never have her myself.
I swear to god: an angel like Tess isn’t meant to be lonely.
An angel like Tess should be worshiped day and night.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Rowan jokes, tossing the damp dish towel onto the counter and digging through the drawer for a fresh one. “This way I don’t need to threaten some asshole into treating my baby sister well.”
“Yeah.” I laugh weakly, fumbling for more spoons. “That’s true.”
Well, shit. That’s the weakest silver lining I ever heard.