Chapter 21
21
MILES
M uscles bunched, strung tight with the tension pulsing through me, I marched up the steps and paused on the front porch to say hello to the best dog ever. I crouched in front of the sprawled-out mass of fur and drool to give her exposed belly a few rubs, but seeing Jubie and running my fingers through her thick fur did nothing to calm the anger and fear burning in my chest.
We found absolutely nothing in Aspen’s cabin at The Nest to point to who had been inside. Though if you asked the sheriff, he’d tell you we found nothing because nothing had happened. The old fool kept grumbling under his breath that we were paranoid and overly protective of our newest girl.
It had taken everything in me not to snap the bastard’s neck after the first comment. By the time he left to find the idiot general manager, I had plotted multiple scenarios regarding his untimely death, each more creative than the last. Only knowing I couldn’t be with Aspen if I went to prison for murder kept me from following through with the pulsing urge to end the asshole’s life.
However, when the sheriff made the offhanded comment about trouble seeming to find me, all the fight dissolved, leaving me confused and worried that maybe he was right. Which meant whatever was after Aspen could be because of her association with us.
The notion that we put this amazing woman in danger made panic like I’d never known swell in my chest. But there was no way I would walk away from this, from her. I would just need to set more safety precautions for when she wasn’t with me or Aiden. We could and would handle anything or anyone who tried to harm our girl. It was when she wasn’t with us that had me terrified, which, starting tomorrow, would be most of the day because of clients we already had booked.
Maybe a tracker would ease my mind enough not to be distracted when she wasn’t at my side.
Jubie’s muzzle opened, releasing a disapproving grunt as she lifted her gigantic head off the fake wooden planks when I stood, dusting off the fur now coating my palms. Shooting my special girl a small grin, I headed for the door and slowly pushed it open. After shutting the door behind me, I paused, immediately sensing something different—not off or wrong, just different from the normally empty cabin feel we’d grown used to.
Taking in the room, my gaze paused on the source.
Aspen. A freshly showered Aspen, if her wet hair was any sign.
Perched on the edge of the couch, phone clutched tight in her hand while holding her bent head with the other, her voice traveled through the room as she spoke to the person on the other end of the line. My pulse picked up at the slump of her shoulders. I started toward her, only to pause upon catching sight of a woman on the screen.
“I know what I’m doing, Mom,” Aspen said, her smile tight as she gazed at the phone. She didn’t glance up as I slowly backed away so as not to interrupt the conversation with her mother.
“See, Aspen, I don’t think you do. You actually had a decent job back in Seattle that you just up and left. We didn’t raise you to just walk out on your employer like that. I’m starting to wonder if us giving you the freedom to put the photography dream behind you was best for your future. Look at you—no job, no husband, no prospects. Alone and in Alaska, doing what?”
“Taking pictures, Mom,” Aspen replied, sounding so defeated I almost didn’t recognize her voice.
My fingers curled into tight fists, and a low, frustrated grunt vibrated in my chest. She deserved to be happy, always supported, and loved, no matter what. I didn’t give a fuck if the person on the other end of the line was her mother. I was seconds from ripping the phone out of Aspen’s hand and telling that woman just what I thought about her.
“I don’t understand you, Aspen. I really don’t. And what makes this whole situation worse is you walked away from someone who could’ve supported you, who could’ve given you a family. But you ran away from him and all your responsibilities. What you did was incredibly selfish. I hope you realize that now.”
That fake smile from Aspen shifted to a shocked expression as she gaped at the phone.
“Wait a second, Mom. How do you know all this? I called to say hey and let you know where I was. I haven’t mentioned anything about me leaving the magazine.” Her voice trembled with restrained emotion. “And who the hell are you saying I left behind?”
“Since you didn’t feel the need to call and inform us of your little breakdown…” I stifled a curse and dared a step toward Aspen. Her gaze jerked my way, dark eyes widening. “I was concerned about you when you didn’t return my messages, which is very rude, Aspen. When you get home, we will have a long discussion about respecting your parents.”
“How did you know, Mom?” Aspen gritted out, jaw clenched so tight I worried about her teeth.
“Well, this James fellow, very kind and utterly concerned about you, called and told me everything.”
“I highly doubt that,” Aspen muttered under her breath. “And what did James have to tell you, Mom?”
“That you two were a couple, that he really saw a future with you, even though you were the independent type. A family, Aspen. He talked about wanting a family with you .” It was my turn to gape at the device in Aspen’s hand, at her mother’s incredulous tone. Was she really shocked that someone would want to marry and have a family with Aspen? Because that’s exactly what it sounded like. “He was worried about you and called to see if I knew where you were and if you were okay.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“That I hadn’t spoken to you, but I was certain you were fine and that I’d let him know once I heard from you. But I think it would be best coming from you, dear. Rebuild that bridge before he walks away, realizing you’re too much trouble.”
“What the fuck?” I murmured before I could restrain myself.
“Is someone there?” her mom said, and Aspen winced.
“Please don’t let him know you talked to me, Mom. He’s not who you think he is. Did you not question his claims about us being a ‘couple’ when I never once talked to you about him over the years?”
A long sigh came from the phone, amping up the anger burning in my veins.
“Fine, fine, if you want to throw away a perfectly wonderful future, that is on you. I was just thinking if you wanted to stay in Seattle, he was a good option. Though it sounds like you just need to come home.”
“I am not coming home.” Aspen laughed with zero humor.
“How are you going to live, support yourself, have a roof over your head with no job or husband to keep you?”
Keep her? What the fuck? Was this woman pulled from the Dark Ages?
“Just because I left the magazine doesn’t mean I can’t make a living selling my pictures online or?—”
Her mother’s snort cut her off, and a broken expression flitted over Aspen’s face.
Having heard enough, I started toward the couch, ready to crush the damn phone to keep her mom from spewing her messed-up lies, but Aspen raised a palm my way, stopping me.
“It’s time you give up on this crazy dream, Aspen, and figure out your life. You’re getting older, and there comes a point when you’ll be beyond the age of what any man would want for a wife. But don’t worry, it’s not too late. When you get home, I’ll introduce you to a few of the men from church who are?—”
“Are old enough to be my dad,” Aspen shrieked while leaping from the couch.
“Aspen Bee Carter, do not raise your voice at me. They are good men who will provide for you, take care of you, and give you the family you need to feel fulfilled in life.”
“I don’t need children to feel fulfilled, Mother,” Aspen snapped. “I’m doing just fine and have no plans to alter course.”
“You’re a foolish child, Aspen. This photography thing is a hobby, a fool’s dream. Get your head out of the clouds and realize your purpose in life, the one you were created for.”
“And what is that?” Aspen said, sounding resigned while rubbing at her temple.
I really didn’t want to hear the answer to her question, knowing it would piss me off, but I couldn’t force my feet to move.
“To be a wife, a mother. Aspen, this is who we are. Jobs and careers just distract women from their true purpose, the only fulfilling one that we have.”
Grinding my back molars to keep from shouting at the phone, I spun on my heels and quietly marched to my bedroom. Stripping off my sweat-soaked shirt first, I tossed it onto the bathroom floor. Mind still on their conversation, I toed off both boots, stepped out of my pants, and kicked everything to the side, taking my anger out on the clothing instead. Behind the glass shower door, I turned the handle all the way to the left. Goose bumps rippled along my skin at the freezing-cold water that sputtered from the showerhead and cascaded along my skin.
Palms sealed to the smooth gray tile wall, I dropped my head forward, allowing the now-lukewarm water to flow over my shoulders and down the ruined skin on my back. Streams poured along my face, falling to the river-stone floor, and swirled down the drain, taking layers of dust and sweat from the hike down with it.
Lost in thought, a mix of overthinking about what happened at Aspen’s cabin and processing the conversation between Aspen and her mom, I failed to hear soft, tentative footsteps.
“Miles?” I jerked up straight. A bolt of panic sent my heart racing. “Sorry, I’m interrupting, but… um…” The uncertainty in her voice had me stilling to catch every soft-spoken word. “I just wanted to apologize for what you heard out there. I don’t want you to think I believe all the crap she spewed during the call. Because I don’t.”
I let that statement sink in for a few seconds before responding. “What do you believe, Aspen?” Fuck, her sweet voice and knowing she was just on the other side of the shower door had my cock twitching between my thighs. Reaching down, I gave it a firm squeeze to calm it the fuck down. Now was not the time.
“What do I believe?” she repeated. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.” I barely heard her answer over the water beating against my skin. “But I just wanted you to know… fuck, I don’t know… that I’m not like her, I guess. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea that I’m doing this with you and Aiden because I need someone to take care of me.”
“You mean the life you were created for?” I scoffed. “That’s some bullshit thinking. You know that, right?”
“I do. But she’s my mom. I can’t cut her out of my life for her backward thinking, even if she drives me insane and pisses me off. She loves me. She just goes about showing it in strange, controlling ways.”
“If she doesn’t support you when you’re pursuing your dreams, then I’m not sure why you don’t stop answering her calls and cut ties with her.” I ran a thumb over the crown of my cock, my shoulders trembling with a bolt of desire.
“Because sometimes I wonder if she’s right. Not about everything but about some of it. What am I even doing with my life?” Through the frosted glass, I watched her lean against the wall and slide down until her ass hit the tile floor. “I don’t want to move home. That’s not the answer. But how am I going to support myself? Maybe this is a pipe dream, one that won’t get me anywhere.”
“But you’re happy.”
“It just feels like what I do doesn’t matter. I’m not out saving lives or curing cancer. I take pictures of animals and landscapes—so what? I’m not doing anything important or life-changing?—”
“Stop,” I commanded, tone sharp. Shutting off the water, I pulled open the shower door and shot her a stern look. “Stop talking about your career like it isn’t special.”
“They’re just pictures,” she whispered, eyes glued to my semihard cock.
“Aspen,” I practically growled, my restrain waning as she licked her lips.
Slowly, her gaze slid up my naked body, and it was only then that I realized what I had done without even thinking twice.
I stepped out of the shower naked, knowing she was there.
Everything was out on display for Aspen to see.
Tattoos.
Muscles.
Dick.
Scars.
My heart raced, pulse pounding in my ears. Yet it wasn’t out of fear of her rejection or disgust, but more at the huge fucking milestone I’d just achieved. This moment was fucking epic, and she had no idea. Aspen was the first woman in years who I’d bared myself to, and by the hooded look directed my way, she liked what she saw.
Shaking my head to redirect my thoughts from fucking her against the wall and back to the previous important conversation, I grabbed a towel off a wall hook and quickly secured it around my waist. And fuck if her little pout when I covered my cock from her view wasn’t tempting and adorable all in the same breath.
I stepped toward her only to freeze. It was one thing for her to see my front. There was minor damage from the explosion there. My back was a different situation completely. Ninety percent was covered in second- and third-degree burn scars. Even though nearly every inch was full of ink, the raised skin was still noticeable.
“Damn, you’re way too good-looking for someone like me,” Aspen said with awe in her tone. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lower lip as if imagining lapping up the streams of water trickling down my chest.
Her words snapped me out of my frozen state. One foot in front of the other, I marched up to where she sat. If my one-track mind wasn’t narrowed in on proving to her they weren’t “just pictures,” I would turn her over my knee and spank her ass for putting herself down. It was Aiden and me who didn’t deserve someone like her.
So full of light and life.
Beautiful and tough.
And all ours.
“Come on, I have something to show you.” I extended a hand down. The second her fingers slid into mine, I eased her off the floor and tugged her against me. “What you do is important. They aren’t just pictures to some people, baby girl. To someone, whether or not you realize it, those pictures are everything .”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, dark eyes flicking between mine. “What do you mean?”
I dipped my chin. “It’s easier if I show you.”
Palm pressed to her lower back, I guided her in front of me so she wouldn’t see my back—baby steps and all that shit. In the bedroom, I motioned toward the bed. Keeping the towel wrapped around my waist, I snatched a lightweight button-up shirt off a hanger in the closet and threaded both arms through the short sleeves. Leaving it open, I stepped back toward the bed, feeling her questioning stare following me as I knelt near the nightstand.
Fingers blindly searching beneath the frame, I paused when they brushed against a small metal storage box. Tugging it closer, I clutched it between both hands and rose, perching on the edge of the mattress beside Aspen.
The tiny metal hinges creaked, bits of rust falling off the sides as I raised the lid and peered inside. The sweet woman beside me inched closer, peering around my arm to look inside the mysterious box on my lap.
“They aren’t just pictures,” I rasped while flipping through the various photos and keepsakes for the evidence of my words. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I pulled a wrinkled magazine page free, the paper soft from the number of times I’d smoothed it out over the years. Without another word, I unfolded the paper and held it out to her.
Trembling fingers gently grasped the edge. Holding it out in front of her, Aspen stared, eyes wide and lips parted, at the proof of my awe and appreciation for her talent, which started years before I even laid eyes on her beautiful face. I had no idea then that the woman who inspired me to keep fighting would someday be the one sitting beside me while I shared this secret that only Aiden knew about.
“I don’t understand,” she said after a few seconds of silently staring at the wrinkled picture of a peaceful landscape blooming with pinks and reds from the setting sun. It felt so real, like you could just step into the page and be right fucking there with the photographer. It was as if you could feel her own love for nature in the single picture printed all those years ago. “Why do you have this?”
Careful to not rip the delicate paper, I plucked it from her fingers and laid it on top of the towel covering my thigh. With the side of my hand, I carefully smoothed out the thicker wrinkles.
“My mom would send me all kinds of things during long deployments despite not knowing where I was or what I was doing. She made sure I knew that there was someone back home thinking about me.” My hand shook as it took another gentle swipe along the paper. “This picture was in one magazine she sent, and it spoke to me the moment I saw it. It felt like I was right there, back home, enjoying the country I fought for. It gave me hope of being home one day soon and getting to see that view with my own eyes, reminding me that while I was in a living hell, someone out there was safe and free to take a picture like this. It reminded me what I was fighting for.”
A soft hand draped over mine, stilling the repetitive movement.
“And then when I was in the hospital,” I choked out, “I kept this taped where I could always see it. Every day, pushing through the pain and devastation of knowing the only thing I was good at—fighting alongside my brothers—was done, I’d look at this picture, and it gave me the will to keep working to get the fuck out.”
“I had no idea,” she whispered. Turning, I startled at the silent tears leaking down her cheeks. “I loved this shot. The landscape felt alive with this energy that I had to capture.”
“You did, that time and so many others.” Pulling out a few others I kept, I handed them over to her but continued to stare at the original photo. “You’re talented, Aspen. You’re not just taking pictures that people flip through for a few seconds, then forget about the next. Your shots, what you capture, speak to so many people who need reassurance that there is still peace out there. For me, it was a reminder of what I fought for, that you could be out there doing what you loved because I was out there protecting your freedom to do so.”
“I’m speechless,” she murmured, and I gently wrapped my hand around her throat. “I had no idea that something as simple as a picture in a magazine could do that.”
“There is nothing simple about your photos, Aspen,” I rasped.
Wide dark eyes leaking tears stared up at me. “Thank you. Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s…” She lifted the ripped magazine pages and pressed them to her chest, right over her heart. “Everything. And I’m beyond honored to know that something I did helped you, a genuine hero, get through the hard times.”
Dark times would be a more accurate description.
Words bubbled in my throat, desperate to escape for the first time. Instead of someone sitting there, trying to pull the story from me, I found myself eager to tell her everything.
Hoping that telling her about that last mission would heal the still raw and jagged scars buried deep within me.
Nothing else had worked, but maybe I was simply waiting for her.
For the one who inspired so much hope and determination to push through the pain.
It was time. I needed to tell her my story.