Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
RUSTY
P ookie is ecstatic to see Ash, judging by how she runs to her first, pees at her feet, and doesn't leave her side all night.
I get it.
Having to take Ash back to her place last night after our date felt like watching my world go from 8k picture quality down to 320p. Everything was pixelated, flatter, duller. Yet Pookie's blue stripe glowed with an intensity that radiated light and color to the rest of the house. And Ash forgot so much stuff — a claw hair clip, a toothbrush (although I guess that was technically mine), a tube of lipstick — that each of those objects added more light.
We've worked together on countless projects for Jane & Co., and I’ve come to associate that same lightness with my consulting work. But after having her work alongside me today, my job feels more exciting. She learned our products fast and was a genuine help, but she was also curious. She asked a million questions about what I do for Sugar Maple Farms. The more I talked, the more impressed she seemed. I don't think she cared about my title, and I’m sure she doesn’t care about my compensation — Jane & Co. ain't doing too shabby — but I think she liked hearing how competent I am. She kept saying things like, "I never would’ve thought of that!" and "How are you so hot and smart?"
She said it like she meant it. And I filed away every word in my brain.
Making her dinner now feels like playing house again. We're baking pizzas in my outdoor pizza oven, and when I toss the dough in the air the way Patty taught me, Ash gapes.
"Is there anything you're not good at?"
"Reading."
Laughter explodes from her. "Cheater. And you are good at reading. You're a voracious reader."
"Audiobooks don't count."
She reels on me. "Excuse me? What idiot told you that?"
I set the dough on the counter and pull out my dough docker. I run the spiked roller over the dough to release the air. "Arlo. I was constantly listening to audiobooks in my room, and he said it was because I was too stupid to read."
The fire in Ash's eyes could set the world ablaze. "Right, because he was reading Milton and Chaucer in between drinks at the bar? What a? — "
"Hey, it's okay," I interrupt.
"It's not okay. He never should have treated you like that."
I can't help a quiet scoff. If only that were the worst of it …
"What did your mom say when he pulled this crap?"
"She always made excuses for him or blamed his dad. Arlo got her pregnant when they were sixteen, and they both dropped out of high school. They had a shotgun wedding — complete with the shotgun — and Arlo went to work. He used to rant about how he never meant to be like his no-good father, but she "entrapped" him and saddled him with an idiot and a brat. He'd go on and on about how he never had a choice but to become just like his father."
"What a monster ! What a terrible, evil monster."
“Yeah. He really was.”
“Well, listening to audiobooks is reading," she says, grabbing my hands and making me look at her. "Do you think blind people don't read if their fingers are doing the work?"
"No. Of course they're reading."
"And you are, too." Her curls bounce with emphasis. "You're absorbing information. Who cares if it's through your fingers, ears, or eyes? One sense isn't better than the other. Arlo's asinine comment doesn't get to take up space in your mind. He didn't earn that privilege."
The conviction in her voice carries her words straight to my heart.
"What did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life?"
She smiles. The balls of her cheeks raise her glasses. "What can I say? Guys who read are hot."
"Oh, are they?" I put my hands around her back, and she puts hers around my neck like we're dancing.
"They really, really are," she says. Her eyes jump to my lips, and the urge to kiss her is overwhelming. Uncontrollable.
Inevitable.
I lean down, and my cheek brushes the skin of hers. Her eyelids flutter closed, and mine follow a heartbeat after. Her breath is warm and shallow against my face, almost like she's holding it.
Or maybe I am.
My lips part as I close the distance? —
ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF
Pookie jumps at our feet, her little nails scraping against my jeans and Ash's legs. She jumps and spins and tries to get our attention, because heaven forbid we do something without her .
Ash laughs and leans down to scratch Pookie's ear. "Poor pup," she says. "You're feeling jealous, aren't you?"
"I should've left you in the ditch," I grumble.
Ash tsks and swats my leg, still squatting with Pookie. "Did Mommy and Daddy leave you out?"
"Mommy and Daddy?" My heart freezes … and then catches fire.
Ash doesn't look up, but I can imagine the blush on her face, and it's stupid how appealing the thought is.
"Hmm?" Ash says, pretending she doesn't know exactly what I'm talking about. Mommy and Daddy?
"I'm not her dad, I'm her owner," I say, but it's a reflex. "She's a farm dog, not a purse pet."
"She's a purse pet, and she's your purse pet," Ash says in the voice she only uses for Pookie.
"You mean our purse pet."
"If that's the case, do you mind if I borrow some of her poop?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"I'm trying to help Chick Hanks with a gopher problem."
I laugh. "She's your dog, too, Gorgeous. Do what you need to do."
Ash looks up with pure happiness stretched across her lips. For the last year, I thought I knew every smile, every quirk of her mouth, every pucker and pout. I was so wrong. It's like seeing the Mona Lisa a million times from a distance and finally getting to walk past the barrier and examine it up close. I can see brush strokes and layers, the subtle interplay of light and color, added nuance that I never imagined but that helps me appreciate and love this masterpiece even more.
The way I could kiss this woman …
The way I did .
When I kissed her last night, she kissed me back. With gusto. She took my efforts and expanded them. I would have given her my best for five seconds and broken apart so as not to show all my cards.
She memorized the deck and then changed the game completely.
That kiss …
It felt like us . Ash and Rusty.
Not “Ash and Rusty plus kissing.”
Just Ash and Rusty.
She stands up from cuddling Pookie and washes her hands. "Should we finish the pizza?"
"As you wish."
She fans herself. "Whew. Saying that with that hoarseness in your voice? Dang."
And then she kisses me.
It's a peck, a brush of her lips against mine, but it is earth shattering.
My eyes are still closed when she backs away, and I must look like a fool, but I can't move. I'm stuck to the earth so firmly, I'm growing roots. When my eyes open, Ash is smiling at me coyly. "Let's go, Farm Boy. Momma's starving."
We eat at a table on the deck. A light breeze breaks up some of the humidity, making the night comfortable. Ash lights a couple of citronella candles to ward off bugs, and we eat and talk and talk some more.
I've never met someone I fit so naturally with. We have a lot of similar tastes. We both binge audiobooks, podcasts, and love doing puzzles. We prefer Marvel to DC, but while she likes the Avengers, I like X-Men. She likes Star Trek: Next Generation while I'm a Deep Space Nine kind of guy. When she starts talking about her favorite band — Duncan and Nash — I try not to choke .
"You like Nash ? That guy's a loser. He rode Duncan's coattails."
"How do you figure? One of them still has a career and the other doesn't!"
I more than figure, but I won't tell Ash that.
"Isn't it weird that he only had one good solo album after the band broke up?"
"Yes," she admits. "I figure it's the fame. It got to his head."
"I agree with you there," I say. "He sucks." She crumples her napkin and throws it at me.
I let it pelt my shoulder. "Is this how it's gonna be from now on? I disagree with you and throw stuff at me?"
"What? That's absurd. You're allowed to disagree with me. I promise to only throw stuff at you when you're wrong ."
"Oh, is that all? And how will I know if I'm wrong?"
"If you disagree with me."
I chuckle. She reaches across the table to grab my napkin — no doubt to throw at me — and I catch her hand by the wrist.
"Sorry, Gorgeous. I have a strict 'no throwing things at the table' policy."
"Really?" she asks. She puts her other hand up on the table, palm up. "What's the penalty for breaking it?"
"Five minutes in the penalty box."
"Is that like seven minutes in heaven?"
Heat pools in my abdomen. "Never played it."
"Me either. But I've seen it enough times, I think we could figure it out." She flutters her eyelashes at me, and I want to jump across the table and kiss her senseless.
"Ashley Jane. What am I gonna do with you?"
"Maybe you should take seven minutes and figure it out."
Something flirtatious springs to the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back. I shift my hand so that my thumbs stroke her hands. Everything has changed in the last ten days. As close as we were before, we're so much closer now. She's peered past my walls, and I've let down my guard. Shed my armor.
And now that it's off, I can’t put it on again.
“I’m tired of pretending I’m pretending.”
“What do you mean?”
My heart thuds against my ribs. Over the last year, loving Ash has been both a wound and a balm. Loving her as intensely as I have has caused me acute pain day in and day out. Yet, knowing her, having her in my life has healed parts of me that I knew were broken but couldn't fix on my own. I've come to see the world differently through her. She's like Lasik for my soul. There was a universe of beauty at my fingertips that I couldn't access. For my whole life, I was sketching vistas in charcoal without knowing watercolors existed.
I know they exist now.
I've painted with them, seen their beauty, let them color my world.
I don't want to return to a life of black and white.
"I always knew you'd dated before we met, but learning about Philip … it overtook everything else in my mind. I hated it. I hated thinking of you with him. I couldn't stop picturing you two together. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he treated you."
"I've moved on, though."
"It's not just that. I hate thinking of you with anyone . It ties my stomach into knots. It makes me so sick, I can't eat, can't sleep. Every night, I have dreams — nightmares — of you with Philip or some faceless jerk, and it destroys me."
Tears fill her eyes. "That's what your nightmares are about? Me with someone else? Me? "
"Every night."
She covers her mouth with her hand. "I thought they were about Arlo. "
"Arlo? He's a distant second. Nothing could be scarier than imagining you with anyone else but me." Ash’s face falls and curls cover it. I lift her chin with my finger. The tears in her eyes have spilled, leaving a glittering trail down her cheeks. "I may have started this ruse to protect you from Philip, but you have to know that everything I've said and done is a hundred percent real. I wasn't acting. Not for a second. If anything, this is the first time in the year I've known you that I haven't been acting."
Her eyebrows crease. "What do you mean?"
"Since the day we met, you … bewitched me."
"P&P reference. I approve."
I chuckle. "You were captivating and cool and so pretty, I lost the ability to speak. By the time I regained it, we were already friends, and I'd missed my chance."
"You hadn't missed your chance. Well, I guess the wet willy? — "
"I never wet willied you! It was one noogie."
"Well, you gave me a lot of figurative noogies, pal ,” she says. I wince. “There were definite friend-zone vibes happening."
"Because I was acting."
"Acting like what, exactly?"
I stroke her cheek gently with my thumb, wiping away the memory of her tears. "Like I wasn't completely in love with you."
Her lips spread in a tender smile and she rests her head in my hand. "You really are smooth, Farm Boy."
"I love the way you call me Farm Boy," I say.
"I love the way you tell me the things I do that you love."
"Then I should tell you something else," I say. I lean across the table and crook my finger toward her until she's leaning across the table, too. I nudge my nose softly against hers. "I love the way you smell." I rub my nose against her neck. "I love the way you feel." Over her jaw. "I love the way you think." I kiss her temple. "And I love the way you taste. "
And with that, my lips find hers in a kiss both gentle and earnest. And when that kiss is done, we kiss again and again until the sun sets and the moon appears.
Until the stars align.