Chapter Two
Aspyn
The farmhouse is the most fabulous, hot mess I’ve ever seen. Walls are torn down, dust cloths hang everywhere, and every pipe in the bathroom is exposed to the bare wall behind it. That said, the shower itself has been surfaced with a modern turquoise and white subway tile and a brand-new flooring as well. It’s a light gray that looks worn and weathered, and it completely matches the vintage vibe they seem to be going for.
I pull open the glass shower door and stand beneath the warm water, letting the steam fill my lungs.
Ugh, this feels good. It’s funny the things you miss when you’re homeless.
Homeless.
I hadn’t thought of myself like that until now. I guess I should have. I was living out of my car, eating scraps, and taking gas station showers when I found enough change to do so. That said, until now I still thought of myself as a girl with a home she chose to leave. Now, I know there’s no going back.
I blow out a heavy breath and rinse the woodsy shampoo from my hair and mull over the choices I’m currently facing. The guys are going to ask me why I’m living in my car again. On the one hand, I could tell the truth. It’s clean, simple, and at this point,
I welcome an arrest. I deserve it.
On the other hand, there’s a tiny, archaic piece of me that seeks self-preservation. It’s not a conscious thought, but it’s what kept me from pulling into every police station from Alaska to Tennessee with a confession. Because when I do, my life is over.
As much as I deserve that, as much as my entire being craves the relief of truth, that little prehistoric piece of me wants me to run.
So, I do.
I lather in the aromatic body wash that’s clearly not for women and pass over every nook and cranny at least twice. I’m going to smell like a man when I’m done, but at least I’ll be clean. Real clean, not campsite shower clean, or gas station shower clean. Real, actual, squeaky, untimed, fully clean.
A gentle knock raps on the door. “You decent?”
It’s Ranger and his voice sends another shock between my legs. I really am sick. Who fantasizes about multiple men like this, especially considering the circumstances I’m in?
“I’m in the shower. What’s up?”
The heavy wood door squeaks open a touch and the rasp in his voice is closer as he says, “I’ve gotta head back out. There’s a drunk guy acting like a fool down at the bar. Jake will take care of you. We set up your room, and he’s got some food ready for you to eat. Get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” There’s nothing overly emotional about anything that Ranger says. He speaks so matter of fact that if you didn’t know him, you’d think he didn’t care at all, but he does. He shows it in his actions and the few words he does say. He could’ve just left. He didn’t. He could’ve left me on the side of the road tonight. He didn’t.
I shouldn’t read into that.
“Sounds good. Thanks again.”
He closes the bathroom door, leaving me wanting more, though I’m not sure what it is I want. It’s not like he’s going to stomp inside, bend me over, and plow me to sleep. Though, I wouldn’t fight him if he went that route. Hell, while we’re at it, I wouldn’t be opposed to Jake joining the fun… but I’m digressing. Clearly, I need to find batteries and make work of that vibrator the second I’m tucked away in my room.
My room.
I can’t wait to cozy into a warm bed.
When I’ve successfully scrubbed, shaved, and shined as many places as I can reach, I turn off the shower, open the glass door, and step out onto the floor, wrapping a fluffy fresh cotton towel around my frame.
My feet are warm. Did they put heated floors into this place? Ranger’s going all out. I can’t wait to explore the rest of the house and get the history of why he’s doing all this. After he moved from Alaska, I remember him mentioning his parents had passed and he was moving back to his hometown, but that was years ago. I was devastated at the time, but I never told him. There was no reason to. He was best friends with my brother, not me, though we did share quite a few deep conversations. Probably too many to count.
Ranger got me through some tough times without saying much at all. There’s something about knowing someone understands you, knowing they’re listening, knowing they give a shit. It means more sometimes than actual advice.
I push the steam away from the mirror and realize I have no clothes to wear. I’m not putting my grubby old clothes back on, and everything I have in the car needs to be thrown in the washer.
I crack open the door and holler down the hall, breathing in the savory scent of toasty rich butter and melting cheese, “Jake, are you there?”
He’s immediately responsive, as Jake always has been. “Yeah. What’s up?”
The door is cracked less than an inch, leaving only my lips and one eyeball visible. “My clothes are all dirty. Do you have a t-shirt or something I can wear?”
“Oh.” He pauses as though he’s thinking over something dramatic, then finally he says, “Sure do.” He disappears down the hall, returning a few seconds later with a black t-shirt.
I widen the cracked door slightly and our hands brush against one another as he passes the t-shirt through. “I’ll get your plate ready.”
There’s no intention to catch his gaze, but I do. I do and I melt with something familiar and warm. This is the feeling I was afraid of. The one where I never wanted to let Jake go. The one that took years to move on from. The one, upon seeing him, I’m not sure I ever really got over.
The fact I ever started things with him to begin with is insanity. Deep down, we both knew it would never work in the long term. He was best friends with my brother, he was in and out of the country with the Army, and at the time I was nearly twenty years old. He was closing in on thirty. Nothing about our relationship made sense… e xcept what we felt when we were together.
He was on leave when we started seeing each other the summer after my first year of college. For a while, the conversations were innocent and friendly. We’d video chat, and I’d listen to him tell me about training or how nervous he was to leave his mom during deployment. At the time she had multiple sclerosis and had a hard time getting around. We spent hours talking about that and how heavy the reality of war was. I talked about college and how I hated my major. At the time, I was a future world-renowned chef forced into a stuffy business job. We talked about how he wanted his own security firm where he made a living hunting down bad guys.
A smile lifts my face just thinking back at those days.
Our conversations stayed friendly for a while until that friendship turned to respect, and respect turned to urges. Soon after that, we met up regularly at a fishing hole on the outskirts of town to steal kisses and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
When I was with him, it didn’t.
Being alone with Jake, the world was only he and I. Everything made sense. Jake saw me more deeply than I’ve ever been seen before in my life. I guess that’s what made it so hard to see him go. We’d shared over a year together talking, kissing, fucking… and then, just like that, he deployed again.
We’d spent months apart before. It was part of the game. He went off to training, and we made it work. We still had video calls and texts, and while the memory of his hands on me weren’t optimum, they got me through, but a full deployment was different. On that deployment, we didn’t know when we’d see each other again or if we ever would.
I cut it off as he left because I got worried the whole thing would stop our lives. I thought I would spend every night worrying and not being able to focus on anything else, constantly in a panic, and he would be at risk because he was always concerned about me.
Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I was still a mess. He was all I had known to that point, and it took years for me to get over it. Years of dreaming about a man I never thought I’d see again. Year after agonizing year knowing I’d let him go because I was afraid. Afraid of my brother finding out, afraid of losing him, afraid of everything.
I drag in a deep breath, pull the t-shirt over my head, and stare at myself in the wood framed mirror, trying not to suck in the scent of him on the fabric, but it’s impossible. He smells so familiar, warm, and woodsy. My body aches for his arms.
I refocus on the new looking sink. There’s a waterfall faucet and a porcelain vessel sink that has ornate detailing that reminds me of an old teacup.
I wonder if Ranger’s selling the place.
As I ponder that, I check myself over in the mirror and run a comb that’s on the edge of the sink through my long dark hair. I look awful. I hate being that girl. I believe you are what you believe you are, but right now, I look like shit. Stress takes its toll, and your skin pays the price. I look nothing like I did all those years ago. Then again, I guess the guys have aged as well. Though, when a man ages, it seems to only enhance his looks. For a woman, it’s the opposite. I’ve only just hit my thirties, but the brightness is already drained from my skin and the wrinkles next to my eyes get deeper every day.
Why is nature so unbelievably cruel?
I drag in a deep breath, pausing as I take note of how big Jake’s t-shirt is on me. It hangs well past my knees. I consider berating myself for coming back to this thought again, but another memory fills in instead.
The summer sun was hot, and we’d found a little café next to a glacial lake overlooking the mountain range. The restaurant hummed around us, and the waitress kept our glasses full. We came to this place when we wanted to pretend we were normal. When we wanted to be in public, but not be seen. We’d talk for hours, eat and laugh, but that day was different. It was like we both knew everything was about to end and the air was being stripped around us. Every dream, every intimate moment, every feeling we’d developed was about to end. The future we saw for our lives together was about to be over. So, we sat extra-long that day, hanging on to every word, every breath, and every touch. We were savoring each other.
Dishes clank in the kitchen and I’m brought back to reality. The reality where so many years have passed and we’re all completely different people. The reality where I’m the homeless guest who’s staying here for charity’s sake and Jake and I are a thing of the past.
My stomach grumbles as I open the bathroom door and step out into the hall. Steam rolls behind me, keeping my legs warm as I set my eyes on Jake.
Time may have aged me poorly, but like Ranger, it’s only done Jake favors. His hair has streaks of gray and white which make him look distinguished. His body is stronger and thicker. Somehow, he looks better than he did back when.
How is that possible?
“I have another one on the stove if you want seconds.” He smiles and pushes the plate of grilled cheese and fries toward me. “Dr. Pepper, right?”
I nod and he reaches into the fridge and grabs my favorite drink.
“You still love it too?”
“I have one every night.” He laughs as he says, “Some things never change.”
My mouth is watering, and though I’m sure it would be polite of me to take a dainty bite from the corner of the bread and pause to talk, I don’t. I don’t even remember the next few minutes. I just eat. I eat like a raccoon who’s stumbled onto a suburban street on trash day. I eat like a bear in a forest of bee nests. I eat like a horse left alone with a barrel of peppermint. In minutes, my food is gone, and my stomach is aching.
I hold my hand over my belly and look toward him, a little disgusted with myself, but ultimately satisfied. I’m not even sure I tasted it. “I’m sorry. I was starving. Thank you.”
“You want more?” He grins and brushes his hand down over his beard.
“No. I better slow down. I feel a little sick.”
He nods and sets the spatula on the counter before grabbing his own Dr. Pepper from the fridge and leaning in. “What’s going on, little cat? Are you hard up for cash? I can help you out.”
I drag in a deep breath as my heart flops in my chest. “What’s with the little cat thing? Ranger heard you say it too.”
He tugs his big hand down over his beard. “Force of habit. You’re avoiding the question, though. Why are you living in your car?”
“I’m traveling around for a while. What’s the deal with this place?”
“Ranger inherited it from his parents. He’s been wanting to fix it up for a while now. Perfect storm, I guess.”
“He going to sell it?” I take a sip of the fizzy soda and swallow it down.
“Don’t know. I think he’s still mulling it over. It’s a lot of house for one guy, but it’s generational, so…”
“Yeah. That’s a big decision. Well… looks like you guys are doing a great job with the place. I love the floors.”
He nods and I can’t take my eyes off his shoulders. They’re wide and strong, and when he moves, even slightly, they flex so damn perfectly. “Just started a few weeks ago. We’re making progress.” His brows narrow. “I think I asked you a question, though. Why are you sleeping in your car and why don’t you want Ryan to know about it?”
My heart races and my brain goes into overdrive, still mulling over the made-up stories I could tell him. The trouble is, when I’m staring into his hazel eyes, I can’t lie.
“I’m in trouble, Jake.”
“What kind of trouble?” He leans up and refocuses as though he’s a lion ready to protect his pride. I always appreciated this about Jake. Above all else, he’s a protector.
“I can’t tell you.” I pinch my lips between my teeth and stare toward him begging for mercy. “Not now. Maybe not ever.” My throat starts to shake as I say, “I… just need—”
“It’s okay, little cat.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close to him with a grin. “I’ll harass you when you’re rested.” Considering Jake is all about pushing past boundaries to get to the root of a problem, I know he’s utilizing a world of self-control right now.
“Can you tell me what you’ve been up to all these years or is that a secret too?”
I smile. “Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been first? I’m feeling shy.”
His eyes roll and he blows out a breath of hot air as he brushes his hand down over his beard. “Shit… traveling mostly. In and out of Sudan, Afghanistan, Turkey, eating sand and shooting guns. Barely spent any time stateside. Work was my best friend after you broke things off.”
My gaze widens. “ I broke things off? We decided it was for the best.”
He laughs and leans against the butcher block counter. “We? You decided it was for the best. I had no choice in the matter.”
I roll my eyes and bite back a grin. I know he’s being playful, but a part of me knows he’s serious too, and it feels worth addressing in jest. “For the record, I had a problem back then. I was trying to make everyone happy. I should’ve been more selfish.”
“Didn’t make me happy when you left.” He looks down and swallows hard before glancing up again.
I drag in a jagged breath. “I know. I thought it would long term, though.”
He nods, though in retrospect, I see where he’s coming from. If we’d just pushed through the fear, we’d probably be married now with a life of our own and I wouldn’t currently be on the run.
“You ever marry?” He clears his throat.
“ Marry? No. I’ve spent the years helping Liam do books for my parents. Not much else.” That sounds pathetic to say out loud.
“Shit. Liam . How the hell is he? I haven’t caught up with him in a while.”
“Good.” My stomach turns as I think about how abruptly I left. If anyone didn’t deserve an abrupt disappearance, it was Liam. He’d become one of my closest friends. The only person I turned to when I needed to talk about anything. Hell, we were supposed to go to dinner the night I left town. I think he was going to tell me he wanted to be more than friends, but he didn’t know how. Truthfully, I’d have loved being with Liam like that. He’s nerdy and sweet, and he’s the only one who sat with me the week I had the flu. He brought me soup, chocolates, told me random facts about every Star Trek movie made, and rubbed my back when I was throwing up. This is why having a thing for all three of your brother’s best friends is bad. I can’t tell Jake any of this considering how bad I messed up our thing together. “He and Ryan are still friends. We got pretty close over the years, too. He’s such a smart guy.”
Jake nods. “Sure is. I should give him a call. I think he and Ranger still talk often, but you know how life is. Even close friendships die out with everyone going in different directions. Sucks, really.”
My throat is tight as I say, “I haven’t talked to anyone since I left town.”
Jake grins a sheepish, slick sort of smile and I know his conversation is about to get weird. “You still got a thing for him? You had a thing for Ranger too if I remember correctly. Were your panties dripping wet thinking about Ranger bringing you back to his place tonight?”
I bite back a smile. “What’s wrong with you?” Laughter ensues as I struggle to say, “You’re sick. You know that?”
“It’s a valid question,” he continues. “I remember all the filthy things we used to talk about.”
My face burns with heat. “I was young back then. I didn’t know what I was saying.”
“So, you don’t still think about all of us together? You had some pretty wild fantasies back in the day.”
The hair lifts on the back of my neck, my scalp prickles, and my heart races. Of course I’ve thought about them all together. For years, that was all I thought about any time I pulled out my vibrator. Hell, Jake and I got off to the thought of me fucking all his friend’s multiple times. There’s probably something wrong with both of us.
I roll my shoulders back and stare at the giant man in front of me as I try to gain composure. “I guess, that would be something. All of you… and me. But… you never said where you were at with women. You shack up with anyone out there in the desert? Big, old, soldier boy like you must get the women all kinds of horny. I remember how you looked the first time I saw you in those army greens.” My thighs ache as I drag my eyes over his solid frame.
He grins wide and laughs. For the first time in a while, I feel good about myself. It’s nice to make someone laugh. “You’re the one being ridiculous now.”
“Well… tell the truth. How many hoes were there?”
He looks away trying to hide a smile, then glances back.
My clit throbs over and over again. This man gets me every time, without fail, and within seconds.
“There was no one. No one that mattered .”
For some unfair reason, my heart sinks. I don’t want to think Jake could ever be with anyone but me, even if I did end things. “But there was someone.”
“Yeah, I mean… you left me, Aspyn.” His tone is firmer now, like he’s irritated, but I can’t figure why. “You told me you weren’t coming back under any circumstances. For a while, I didn’t believe you. I waited, thinking you’d come to your senses. You got my emails, right?”
I did get his emails. All five hundred and thirteen. For a while, I opened them. I tortured myself with his words. A few times, I was on the edge of replying, but at the end of the day I always convinced myself that I’d be hurting him more, confusing him more, if I responded.
Now, everything has changed.
“I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. You should’ve been with other women. You should’ve—”
“I never stopped thinking about you.” His hand lands on my shoulder. “It’s sick, but when I was with someone else, I was picturing you. I saw your hair, your face, your skin. I imagined your hot breath on my lips. I was…it’s fucked up, Aspyn. I’m fucked up. I’ve been fucked up.” His jovial nature has turned sour. “Do you know how much it hurts to love someone like I loved you and watch them walk away? To finally find the person you know is perfect for you and know you can’t have them?” His face is straight, his eyes are sunken and tired, and suddenly, I can see how the years have worn him. I hate that I had a part in that.
I glance down at the floor unsure of how to fix this. There is no fixing this, but this is what I do. I live in fear. It’s who I was then, and it’s who I am now. “I should get to bed.”
“Sure. Follow me.”
He leads me down the long farmhouse hallway that’s been painted cornflower blue. Somewhere midline on the wall, there’s a newly installed chair railing with ornate details that add to the vintage feel of the newly designed home. There’s nothing hanging on the walls right now, but I envision family photos from long summer days at the lake, or a first birthday party with a baby that’s smooshing cake all over his face.
What am I doing? I shake my head back to reality and stop behind Jake at the end of the hallway as he swings open the bedroom door, waving his arm in to allow me inside first. I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it.
The walls have been freshly painted a pale peach, there’s a floral bedspread covering a queen-sized poster bed, and on the side table, there’s a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. The kind with hazelnuts.
“When Ranger called, I dug into the attic and found the bedding. It’s all washed up, and I thought it fit the room. The chocolate we had lying around. I want you to be comfortable.”
The combination of exhaustion, mental stress, the downward spiral of my life, Jakes sadness, and the extra efforts he put in for me tonight send tears falling down my cheeks.
He steps toward me, thumbing away a tear. “You okay, little cat?”
“No.” I crash into him and breathe in the cedar on his chest. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I ran from you.”
A soft smile spreads up onto his face. “I missed you too, cat. I wish you’d called me before you left Alaska. I would’ve come. I’d have helped you.” He pushes a strand of hair back away from my face and kisses my forehead. “But I’m here now. So… you’re safe.”
Safe.
I sigh and close my eyes as his lips land against mine.
Safe.
I gasp and moan in approval of his tongue twisting with need.
It’s like we’re still there, at the fishing hole, making the best of the bit of time we get.
My heart hammers against my chest as his hands roam my frame. My neck, my chest, my hips, my ass. He’s everywhere, and I don’t want him to stop.