Chapter 12
Claire
Now that I know I can leave the clinic, I’m enjoying my job a hell of a lot more.
The freedom to wander the property and make new discoveries has made all the difference.
And Asher assured me I wouldn’t have to participate in any more field day games on such short notice.
Though, if I’m being honest, I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would.
Who knew seeing Asher all sweaty and competitive would be a perk of the job?
Speaking of sweat, I’ve been spending an awful lot of time with the state-of-the-art cycling bikes.
I can join any classes or events at the gym as long as they’re not fully booked, so I’ve been taking advantage.
My radio has only gone off once during a spin class.
I was drenched in sweat and in my workout clothes when I rushed to the patient, an archery instructor who had gotten nicked by an arrow.
She passed out at the sight of blood, but the wound on her shoulder was easy to treat with a liquid topical skin adhesive.
After a glass of orange juice, she was mostly good as new, though I urged her to take the rest of the day off.
The adults-only spa is popular with the guests, as are the yoga classes. I took a vinyasa and power class earlier in the week, and Lacey, the instructor, kicked my butt. I’m anxious to try out her other classes now, followed by a visit to the sauna and steam room.
Jessica confirmed with Brenner that a single-room cabin would be unoccupied for two nights between reservations, so she insisted she stay on the property tonight and take responsibility for the radio.
Which means an evening of wine in the hot tub for me.
But a moment after I’ve changed into my bathing suit, a startling crack of lightning lights up the night sky. It’s followed by a loud, long roar of thunder. And just like that, my relaxation plans have been ruined.
A high-pitched scream splits through the air, and without hesitation, I dart for Bea’s room. I swing her door open and rush to the side of her bed. A second later, Asher is there too.
“What’s wrong?” we ask at the same time.
Her breath catches on a sob. “Th-th-thunder.” She clutches her stuffed bunny to her chest.
“Shh, Dolly. It’s okay.” Asher embraces her. “It’s only a storm. It’s okay.”
“B-but the tree. The roof,” she cries.
“Mmm,” Asher hums. “Are you scared a tree is going to fall on our roof like the one next door?”
She nods against him.
“That’s a valid fear,” he tells her. “But we’re safe in here. I promise Daddy won’t let anything happen to you.”
The way he calls himself “Daddy” in third person makes my core clench. Now, that’s scary.
What’s even scarier is the sudden dampness between my thighs. I’m preparing to mentally berate myself when I realize the wetness is dripping from Asher.
Because he’s soaking wet.
And only wearing a towel.
About the time I notice, his eyes go wide, as if it’s only now occurred to him that he’s in his birthday suit.
“Shit,” he whispers. “I—I was just getting out of the shower when I heard her scream. I came running.” He tousles his hair, and water droplets land on my lap again.
“Of course.” I hike a thumb behind me. “I was about to use the hot tub. And it looks like you’ve got this, so I’m gonna change.”
“Thank you for checking on her.”
I nod, then hightail it across the hall and swiftly close my door behind me.
After changing into leggings and an oversized tee, I pour myself a glass of wine and settle on the sectional in the living room.
With the soundtrack of the rain on the roof, I can’t help but stare longingly at the fireplace, thinking about how a roaring fire would make the most perfect cottagecore setting.
Except I don’t know how to turn it on. That doesn’t stop me from getting up and attempting.
As I’m inspecting the perimeter of the stone fireplace, a corded forearm appears beside me and flips a switch located behind a decorative vase on the mantel.
Besides a few stray LEGO pieces and a picture of Bea from preschool that isn’t even in a frame, the ledge is bare, the scene depressing.
Orange flames flicker to life and goose bumps flitter across my arms.
“Thanks,” I say, collapsing onto the couch.
Asher heads to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. “Mind if I join you?”
Wine in hand, I say, “Not at all. How’s Bea doing?”
“I gave her an Ambien, so she should be out for the night.”
“You what?” I screech, whipping his way, only to find him wearing a sarcastic expression.
He laughs at my expense. “She’s fine. I rubbed her back and she fell right to sleep. Are you always this gullible?” The sweet little dips in his cheeks taunt me.
Covering my eyes with a hand I admit, “Maybe? My brother and Ezra liked to play tricks on me when they were in high school.”
Asher takes a seat next to me on the sofa, dressed now, thankfully. He’s wearing navy blue-and-green plaid pajama pants and a beige shirt with Daisy Lake written in distressed font across his chest. “Oh?” He cocks a brow. “What did they do?”
“Stupid shit like altering my report cards to make it look like I’d gotten C’s and D’s. Then they’d laugh when I’d run to my room and cry.”
“That’s awful,” he says through a grin.
“Yeah. They could be jerks, but they were also my protectors, you know?”
He nods thoughtfully. “I can see that. Ezra is super protective of my sister. Bea too. That girl loves her Uncle Ezra.”
“Do you think they’ll get married? For real this time.”
Last summer Ezra begged Millie to pretend to be his wife so he could prove a point to his asshole father.
She resisted at first, but when she discovered she’d get a free trip to Hawaii out of it, she changed her mind quickly.
The whole idea was ridiculous, but it turns out the phrase “fake it till you make it” really does work.
“They’ll definitely get married.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s just say my daughter cannot keep a secret.” He winks and tosses back his beer. “So, Doc,” he says, changing the subject. “What made you wanna become a…”
“Doc?” Smiling, I bring my glass to my lips, and while I contemplate my answer, I take a slow sip.
“It was a combination of a few things. My parents were strict. Cam and I grew up understanding that if we didn’t work for Hotel Connelly, then we were expected to become either a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer.
Engineering never appealed to me, and I don’t enjoy confrontation or debates.
That left medicine. Plus, my mom really struggled after my sister died. ”
Asher sucks in a breath. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“She was two weeks old. I was six. I don’t remember Chloe.
But my mom was not well after that. I don’t remember much of that either, but Cam does.
He was ten. Somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted to help people.
Doctors help people, and since it was one of my parents’ approved careers, I went with it. ”
Asher nods, then juts his chin toward my empty glass. “Do you want more?”
I pass it over, and he retreats to the kitchen to pour more wine and grab another beer for himself.
“What about you?” I ask. “Did you always want to run a family summer camp and retreat center?”
He hands me the glass, then settles on the cushion, his knee accidentally bumping against mine. We’re facing one another, resting our sides against the back of the cushions.
“Not really. Architecture always interested me as a kid,” he says. “In college, I homed in on civil engineering and architecture.”
A little laugh escapes me. “My parents would love you.”
He grins, but there’s an uneasiness just below the surface.
Realizing my faux pas, I quickly ask, “What does a civil engineer do exactly?”
“Basically builds environments to satisfy societal needs,” he replies. “My degree came in handy with the retreat center, though most of my work here is on the business and management side of things.”
“Does that bother you? Going to school for all those years and not utilizing your degree?”
“Not really. I fell in love with… I fell in love with this place, and that was that.”
“What about your wife?” I ask.
He stills. “What about her?”
“Did she go to school?”
“Yup.” He dips his chin. “That’s how we met. In the engineering department.”
“Oh, she was an engineer too?”
“No,” he laughs. “She was in the wrong class. The wrong building, actually. She was lost, and I was the lucky schmuck who showed her the way. She was a business major.”
I take another long sip, waiting to see if he’ll share more. He tensed up a little when I asked about her, but he looks a little more relaxed now, his posture easy and his face relaxed. Maybe it’s the alcohol.
“Back then, her parents were only running this place as a retreat center,” he says, making me grateful for the patience I dug up. “But it was Daisy’s dream to add a family summer camp. Eventually it became my dream too.”
“That’s really admirable.”
His finger brushes mine over the back of the couch. I expect him to pull back and maybe even apologize for the accidental contact. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he rests the tips of his fingers against mine.
We down the rest of our drinks in silence, and the air hangs thick between us. My cheeks grow warm, whether from the fireplace or the wine or something else—like the piercing green eyes locked on me—I’m not sure.
He leans in closer, close enough for me to notice a tiny fleck of gold in one iris.
His eyes rove over my face, his jaw ticking when his gaze lands on my mouth. Heat radiates between us, tension growing by the millisecond, but I don’t dare pull away.
“The yoga classes are really nice here,” I say, feebly attempting to inch the conversation along.
His eyes flicker to mine and he licks his lips. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” Now I’m the one fixated on his mouth. With a deep breath in, I force myself to refocus. “I really worked up a sweat.”
His voice is hushed when he says, “That’s good.”
I nod. “The adults-only spa looks nice too.”
“It is.”
“Do you ever go?” I ask, goose bumps prickling up my arm from where his hand is still touching mine.
“Not as often as I’d like.”
“Why not?”
He scrunches his nose. “I’d prefer if the guests don’t see me naked.”
And now I’m imagining Asher naked.
Does he have a lower back dimple to complement the two on his face?
If the wicked glint in his eyes is any indication, I’d bet damn good money he’s imagining the same about me. Especially when he inches even closer. When his breath hits my lips.
“I feel like I might kiss you.”
“What?” I retract my hand, and Asher’s eyes widen like he’s seen a ghost.