Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
EMMETT
Aspen is jittery as we start down the highway, Timberline Peak shrinking in the rearview mirror.
It was obvious from the way her eyes widened outside the General Store that I interrupted something.
I didn’t catch much, just enough to know my name came up more than once and that Aspen apparently plans on regretting something if she doesn’t do it.
Ever since, she’s been glancing at me like she’s working up the nerve to say something.
At least I’ve got driving to keep me from going nuts while I wait. I was fully prepared to white-knuckle the passenger seat the entire way if it meant staying beside her. There’s something about giving up control on the road that crawls under my skin in all the worst ways.
“All my memories in this Jeep are from that seat,” she explained earlier, pointing toward the passenger seat. “Might be nice to ride there again.”
So here I am, trying not to think too hard about whatever conversation I interrupted while I drive us toward Coyote Creek with the top off the Jeep and sunlight catching in Aspen’s hair.
Twenty minutes in, the silence that would normally feel comfortable has turned deafening. Aspen keeps throwing me these quick sideways glances before immediately looking back at the road, and every one ratchets my nerves tighter.
“So . . .” she finally says.
I wait for the rest, but apparently those two letters were a complete sentence.
“So,” I repeat.
She tucks her legs underneath herself before immediately stretching them back out again. “This is stupid,” she mutters.
I glance over at her, fighting a smile. “What is?”
Aspen huffs out a breath and drags her teeth over her bottom lip. “How nervous I am.”
That gets my attention. Aspen’s a lot of things, but nervous usually isn’t one of them.
“You’ve got no reason to be.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
The vulnerability in her voice pulls my eyes from the road. I reach across the bench seat and pry her hand loose from where she’s twisting it in her lap.
“Hey.” I squeeze her fingers once. “Talk to me.”
Her laugh comes out thin and shaky. “I’m trying.”
The admission lands somewhere deep in my chest.
Aspen stares out through the open Jeep for a second before finally saying, “Things between us stopped feeling casual somewhere along the way, and I think I’m a little scared to find out if I’m the only one who noticed.”
Well. Fuck.
Every muscle in my body goes tight before immediately unraveling again because that is not where I thought this conversation was headed.
Not even close.
“Angel,” I murmur. “You are definitely not the only one who noticed.”
Her eyes lift to mine cautiously, like she’s bracing for impact anyway.
“There’s actually something I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you too.”
Here comes that nervous look again.
I thumb across her knuckles. “Relax. I’m not secretly married or about to confess to murder.”
A startled laugh pops out of her.
“There’s someone I want you to meet while we’re at Coyote Creek.”
“Oh, okay.” Confusion drags her answer out.
“She’s all I have left,” I say, then correct myself. “Family-wise.”
Aspen shifts toward me fully now, giving me her complete attention in a way that somehow makes this harder.
“Your grandmother?”
“Yeah.” My grip tightens on the wheel. “Monica.”
The name settles between us for a second before I exhale hard through my nose and glance toward the next turnout sign.
“I need a minute.”
“Yeah, of course,” she says softly.
The answer should settle me. Instead, my chest feels tighter as I steer us toward a gravel overlook off the highway.
Aspen watches me carefully as I kill the engine.
“She’s in memory care in Coyote Creek,” I say quietly. “Some days she knows who I am . . . some days she doesn’t.”
Saying it out loud never gets easier.
Some days she remembers pieces of me so clearly it knocks the air out of my lungs. Others, she can’t even look at me because my presence scares her. All she can see through her confusion is a threat she doesn’t understand.
Aspen’s patient as always and I’m still not sure I deserve it or her. Scratch that, I’m certain I don’t but I’m beginning to accept that there isn’t a man on earth who does. I’m just the lucky fucker fate put in her path.
“I didn’t want to surprise you with it,” I add. “Or drag you into something heavy without asking. We’re already here for the van. This is . . . optional. But she asked to meet you.”
Her fingers flex on her knee. “She knows about me?”
“Somehow, she guessed.”
Desperate to know what she’s thinking, my eyes flick to hers.
Her smile is quick to chase away my doubts. “Is that so?”
“She’s annoyingly perceptive, a lot like someone else I know.”
“Moi?” She lifts a hand to her chest feigning innocence. Only I know that after she blossomed under my palm there’s not an innocent bone in her body. Unfailingly kind, yes. Innocent . . . not even close.
“My forehead may as well be glass with how easily you see through me.”
“If it makes you feel better, ninety percent of the time I’ve got no clue what you’re thinking.”
“You see more than anyone else ever has.”
“Because some of the time you let me.”
“Hmm.” I look over at her and find her staring at me with a look that says duh. “That’s new.”
Her head tips back and laughter spills out. “Do you want me to meet your grandma?”
That’s a loaded question but one with a simple answer.
Yes, without a doubt. I want her to know all of me, and that includes meeting my grandmother. The thought of the conversation when I need to have makes me want to puke. There’s so much in the past she doesn’t know yet, but I think it’s time.
“She raised me.” I stare out over the overlook, throat tight. “I’m protective of her because, for a long time, she was all I had left.”
“She’s not all you have left anymore,” Aspen says, vulnerability shining in her eyes.
“There are only a few things in my life I truly cherish. She’s one and you are the other. The two of you in the same room is monumental.”
“Okay. Then I want to meet her too.”
“But, Aspen, I’m fucking terrified. She might not know who I am.” My jaw tightens. “I don’t know how she’ll react.” My grip tightens around hers. “And there’s still more you need to know about Rory—about that day.”
Aspen just looks at me with all the patience in the world, like hearing there’s more doesn’t scare her nearly as much as it scares me.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Then tell me when you’re ready.”
The trust in her voice scrapes against every ugly thing I still carry.
“I will,” I swear, meaning it.
Saying it out loud scrapes something raw inside me. Because no matter how many times it happens, I never stop hoping this visit will be different.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “We’ll keep the visit simple. No expectations.”
I nod, but the pressure building in my chest doesn’t ease.
Nothing about this is simple.