9. August
9
AUGUST
After spending a few minutes sopping up as much water from my floor as I could with nearly every towel I had, I hung them around the washroom to dry in case the power took too long to turn on. Then I put on a baggy tee and another pair of shorts in deference to the heat.
When I passed through the living room on my way to the kitchen, flashlight in hand, I saw Morgan’s dogs passed out adorably on the floor while Merlin lounged on the couch, watching me with what I decided was amusement.
“Can you believe these lightweights?”
They didn’t have his tolerance when it came to CBD treats, but I wasn’t worried. They’d be fine, and Auntie August needed a time-out after her roof literally crashed down around her. Fine, there was only a hole in it, but at the time it had sounded like the whole house was caving in. I was still recovering from that initial rush of terror.
I grabbed two bottles of water and set them both on the island along with the large box of pizza I’d ordered around lunchtime. The electric candles I’d pulled out from under the sink were giving off a soft, peaceful glow and, in spite of the situation, I tried to relax.
It wasn’t raining in my house anymore, thanks to Wade. I hadn’t planned to talk to him again for a while, but I wasn’t sure I could have fixed this on my own. I hadn’t even remembered I had a chainsaw until I saw it in his hands.
My laugh sounded mildly hysterical in the quiet room. I couldn’t help it. I’d already been on the edge with his negative reaction to my plan and the arrival of the dogs. But having a tree crash into my house a week after I’d decided to sell it might have broken me.
“Want to share the joke?”
My heart stumbled and did a slow flip when he walked into the room in dark-gray board shorts and a clean, short-sleeved shirt. I’d seen him shirtless from a distance yesterday, but I wasn’t ready for how approachable he looked like this. Damp hair curling against his neck. Calves several shades paler than the rest of him, but still well defined enough to be impressive. His big bare feet.
Don’t start liking feet now, weirdo.
“I’m only losing my mind. Nothing to worry about.” I pushed the pizza across the counter toward him, my own slice already folded in my hand. “Your boon, mighty Tree Slayer. You’ve earned it.”
“Much appreciated.” He smiled before taking a large bite of the cold sausage and pepperoni.
I looked away after realizing I was watching him chew and swallow as if it were some sort of sex show and focused on my own plate. We each ate a second slice in silence, the storm only occasionally rattling the walls, which I hoped meant it was passing.
He was the one to break the silence. “Your stair railing has a wobble in it.”
Of course he’d noticed that. “It’s on the list. I’ll get to it soon. ”
“You have a list?” At my nod, he licked the sauce off his lips, drawing my unwilling gaze. I handed him a paper towel to save me from temptation. “Good. You should let me take a look at it. Maybe I can help you knock a few of those items out while I’m here.”
There it was. “I already owe you for tonight, Mister Fix-it. I don’t need any help getting this place ready for sale.” Well, that was a lie. “No playing fast and loose with the rules just because you saved us.”
He wiped his mouth, his eyes dark and serious. “We’ll talk about it later. As for tonight, if it helps, you can consider it my payment for the debt I owed you.”
“What debt?”
“I crossed the line yesterday. It isn’t my place to tell you what you can and can’t do. I was worried and it was a knee-jerk reaction, but I was wrong and I’m sorry.”
The full-throated apology took me off guard. In all our years together, my ex had never apologized for anything he’d gotten wrong. Not for a botched menu order, or throwing a party while I was on deadline. Certainly not for sleeping with another woman in our bed. Not once had an “I’m sorry” ever crossed his lips, unless it was dialogue he was memorizing. It had been a worldview-shifting moment for me when I finally realized that. Other than sociopaths, what kind of person never said they were sorry?
And here was Wade, this overtly masculine archetype made of calluses, granite and grunts, sitting in my kitchen and sincerely apologizing over pizza.
I tipped my head in acknowledgement. “I accept and your debt is paid, because without you I’d be trying to make a life raft for myself and three dogs out of my air mattress and some twine.”
“You would have figured something out, but I’m glad you didn’t have to.”
Since my anger at him and my frustration with the storm had both fizzled, sitting in the dark together suddenly felt too intimate. It reminded me of all the writing I’d been doing this week.
There were so many parallels in the story it was eerie. It was an ice storm, not a hurricane, but they’d still lost power. Cade, the hero, had saved the day, so she’d let him in and lit a fire to warm him up. And then?—
I stood up abruptly, tossing our paper plates in the trash and then lifting my hair with one hand to fan my neck with the other. I was hot, so it wasn’t a lie. But I could use it as an excuse to give us both some distance.
“Now that the drama is over,” I said lightly, “I think I might take the kids and go sit in Myrtle. She still has AC.”
His look made me feel like I was under a microscope. “It’s not that hot,” he finally said.
“If you were a collie or a woman my age, you wouldn’t be so dismissive,” I teased awkwardly. “I don’t know how people live here when the only two seasons are humid rainforest and hurricane.”
“We manage.”
“As long as the power is on, you stay inside buildings or near bodies of water and keep sunscreen and portable fans with you at all times.” When he chuckled, I wagged my finger at him. “I’m not kidding. I mean sure, my life started going to hell back in California, but at least it was a dry heat.”
I thought he’d laugh again, but he sent me a piercing, understanding look instead. “You chose the wrong man and followed it up with a few bad years, August. It happens. But your life isn’t hell.”
“You’re right, that was a little dramatic. But you don’t know what I’ve been going through. Or maybe you do.” I shifted on my feet, hyperaware of his watchful gaze. “You’ve had the rest of the Rettas in your pocket for years now. There’s probably nothing I could tell you about me that you don’t already know. Which isn’t really fair, since I can’t say the same.”
“Are you saying that after all this time, you think you don’t know me?” He cocked his head to the side, looking up. “The rain’s stopped.”
He was right. The pounding on the roof had been so continuous, the sudden quiet was almost startling. I could hear my pulse and the sound of my soft exhalation. “I guess we can call that a silver lining.”
“Forget the car. Let’s go for a swim to cool off.”
“What?” I sputtered. As if I hadn’t had dreams that started exactly like this. “I have a hole in my roof, a mess in my living room and drugged-up dogs to take care of, Wade. Not to mention I’m finally dry, I just ate and I don’t want to get hit by lightning. I can’t go swimming.”
How many excuses can you fit into one sentence?
“We’ll be fine, and why the hell not?” His smile was pure challenge. “It’s your pool. I was in it yesterday and it felt great.”
I remembered him in it. Vividly.
He got to his feet, standing over me with a dare in his eyes. “We’ve got a break between storm bands. Cool off with me, and we’ll have ourselves some honest conversation. What’s that thing they do online? Ask Me Anything? We’ll take turns.”
That sounded ominously like a challenge. I was usually great at avoiding those, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to this time. Not when he was looking at me like that.
“How honest are we talking?”
“No questions or confessions off the table. Whatever’s said in the pool, stays in the pool.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully and I was done.
He was offering to let me get to know him better.
“And no skinny-dipping,” he added with a warning look. “I need to be able to think straight. ”
The prickling mortification that had initially rushed up my neck morphed into a full-body flush of pleasure at the thought that my body could distract him.
“You wish,” I said breathlessly as I stood too. “Okay, fine, we’ll go swimming. As long as we can take a pass on something we don’t want to answer.”
“Done.”
When he just stood there with a grin on his face, I shooed him with my hands. “Go ahead. I need to take care of business. I’ll meet you out there in ten.”
“Make it five.”
Five minutes later, I walked into the water wearing my snug sports bra under my shirt to keep the girls from floating up under my chin. Wade hadn’t shown yet, but Merlin was slowly navigating the minefield of tree limbs and pine needles littering the pool deck as if it were any other day at the dog office.
The water, though barely cooler than the air, was still a relief, and I let out a soft, blissful moan when it reached my shoulders. The weight I’d been carrying there lifted enough that I could breathe and let go of the last few hours and the new problems that had come with them.
I’d forgotten how magical this could feel. Floating instead of spiraling. Being in the moment instead of distracting myself to avoid each moment at all costs. The night sky stretched out above me, and just for now, the clouds that had come in with those insane gusts of wind and dumped a world of hurt on my house were nothing but a memory. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen so many stars.
“ The stars at night, are big and bright…deep in the heart of Texas. There’s a meteor shower tonight at around two. Come watch it with me by the pool, pumpkin. ”
“Two in the morning? Maybe next time, Mom.”
And the magical moment was over.
“I brought the cooler and slid a few sodas in there if you want one.”
“T-thanks.” I sank, nearly swallowing a mouthful of water when I saw him standing there in the pale moonlight, wearing nothing but his shorts. He was showing more skin every time I turned around. Maybe if I turned around again...
Don’t be greedy.
I couldn’t help it. There was so much of him.
I’d never dated a man as big as Wade. Chick always referred to the guys I gravitated to as Triple As—activists, artists and actors. Most were skinny and pretty, all of them temporary and unreliable, though usually fun in the beginning.
None of them were anything like Wade Hudson, who looked as if he were chiseled out of the side of a mountain. A man who didn’t have to act like a gentleman, because it came naturally, whether he was covered in dirt and grease or standing half naked by my pool. He was hero material, which I already knew because I’d been writing about him for years. But some part of me must have been aware that no one else could measure up to him in real life either. So, I’d chosen men who were his opposite.
No wonder those relationships hadn’t worked out. They weren’t even in the same hemisphere as my real type?—
Who was standing right there, waiting for me to respond to his question while I was busy memorizing the way his chest hair tapered down to a happy trail that disappeared beneath his shorts.
I wanted to follow that trail and see where it led. With my tongue. I shivered a little and he smiled.
“Is the water cold?”
“Meh.”
He huffed out a short laugh. “Phoebe’s a bad influence on you.”
“Maybe she learned it from me.”
“You’re saying you know what it means?”
I swept my hand slowly through the water instead of drooling over his body and tried to come up with a complete sentence. “It means… Okay, imagine filling up a bathtub with hot water, then getting a call you have to take that lasts an hour before you can enjoy that bath. It’s not hot or cold at that point. It’s just wet. It’s meh.”
“I don’t care. I’ll take it.”
I have something you can take.
I really needed to get a handle on this new Mrs. Roper sex drive. It was out of control where he was concerned, even when I was ticked at him.
He apologized. You forgave him.
He strode into the water, dunking his head when he reached my side and coming up for air with a broad smile that made my heart stutter. “This is better than fine, Gus.”
“It’s okay, I guess.”
His grin was a gentle scolding. “You used to be such a ray of sunshine.”
I used to be a lot of things.
My arm flung out toward the crime scene. “Find the positive in this situation. I dare you.”
“Well, a trip to the attic, cold pizza and a meh pool constitute the best date I’ve had in a while.”
His smooth response rendered me momentarily speechless. Was he saying he considered this a date?
“Good job,” I recovered, my mouth dry. “Now I feel sorry for both of us.”
He moved closer, his eyes warm, expression intent, and he was definitely not flirting with me.
“So, we’re in the water,” I rushed ahead. “Now what? The Ask Me Anything part of our program? ”
“I figure after what we’ve been through tonight, we’ve earned it.”
“I feel like we’ve earned ice cream.” Without removing my eyes from his, I gave a little kick and pulled some water forward with my arms to casually put more space between us. “Can’t we skip the Q&A and float in silence, quietly celebrating our victory over the evil pine monster?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re right. There’s an imbalance between us, and I’d like to fix that. I know things you wish I didn’t, but not as much as you imagine. Mostly what Sam put in her monthly newsletters and whatever Morgan lets slip from worry, which is never that much. She plays things pretty close to the vest. It’s why she always beats me at poker.”
That gave me pause. “You read the newsletters?”
I’d thought Mom only sent those out to the band of boss-bitch friends she’d gathered in her travels.
“Your first question. Good. And my answer is, obsessively,” he admitted without shame. “How else was I going to know which state you two were in, or keep up with every installment of August’s Adventure Corner over the years?”
My doubt must have been obvious because his lips quirked. “I admit I’m mostly an audiobook man nowadays, but I can still read. I’ve read every one of your books.”
And the shocks kept rolling in.
This one was flattering, and yet it made me feel…exposed. There was a lot of me in my published books, even if they weren’t as sexually explicit as my current work in progress.
There’s also a lot of him.
Had he noticed?
“I thought you’d be more into biographies and true crime novels now instead of fantasy fiction. ”
He made a face. “No thanks. Books and movies are my escape from reality. Usually science fiction, but I make an exception for fantasy if the author is talented enough.”
Everything he said was making him more attractive. How was that physically possible?
“What about you?”
I tensed, discomfort twisting in my stomach. “This is silly, isn’t it? We’ve known each other for thirty-two years and we’re floating around asking each other dating profile questions in a hurricane. What books do you read? What shows do you like?”
“Twenty-six of those we didn’t live in the same state. We’re neighbors again, but we’ve both changed a lot through those years. If we want to get to know each other as we are now, the little details matter.”
“I don’t know anything about my other neighbors,” I pointed out. “The green house across the street? I have no clue why that woman gets so many deliveries from Amazon. Is she trafficking in knickknacks? Building a sex-bot? I’ve never asked and she still waves at me like we’re old friends.”
“That isn’t the same thing and you know it,” he said, his good humor starting to dissipate. “I’m trying here, August.”
And I’m not.
Ugh. “My answer is I have been rereading everything on my shelf and on my e-reader. I’ve also been rewatching shows on Netflix and binging reaction videos online.”
I glared at him, daring him to call me out for my odd admission. At least I knew it was odd.
I’d looked it up once, and it didn’t surprise me that it was a sign of depression. All I knew was it was comforting. Odd. But comforting.
After a moment of silence, he said, “I don’t know what reaction videos are and I’m not sure that I’ve ever watched a show more than once, other than the Stargate series with Phoebe, since she liked to watch it when she was sick. I might be tempted to skim Stranger Things again for the 80s references.”
He didn’t ask a follow-up, or look at me with condemnation or pity—both of which I’d been bracing for.
“What’s that face about?”
“What face? I didn’t make a face.”
His look said he knew me well enough to realize I’d just told a lie in the honesty pool. At least I hadn’t peed, but I’d probably feel the same amount of guilt if I had.
I sighed. “I was waiting for the question everyone gets around to eventually.”
“What question?”
“How’s your book going? Is your book finished yet? Is there another book in the series coming out soon? Something along those lines.” Just saying the words shot my anxiety into the stratosphere.
“You’ve been writing every day since I’ve been here, Gus. I wasn’t worried about it. But if you don’t want to talk about your work, we can take it off the list.”
I had been writing, just not the book I needed to be working on, and no, I didn’t want to talk about it. Yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“The writing is new,” I admitted. “For the last few years, I’ve kept my laptop and my Word documents shut ninety-seven percent of the time.”
“That’s understandable,” he started.
“Is it? Aren’t you curious about what I’ve been doing with myself instead? Do you want to know the last show I watched? The Good Place . It was the fifth time I’d seen it, Wade. In a row . I cried at the end every time and I’m pretty sure I could get a degree in philosophy at this point. That’s one example of the very important things I was accomplishing instead of working, and I can’t even call it research, because I’m supposed to be writing about witches, shifters and complicated blood magic, not losers who can’t get their acts together. You think that’s understandable?”
“You are not fine.”
“You were sick, August. And before that…” He shook his head. “Nobody’s judging you for taking the time to heal.”
I was judging me. It was impossible not to beat myself up over all the newsletters and online posts I’d started, making promises to my agent and readers that I couldn’t keep when my body crashed on me yet again. The trips to the emergency room that had rarely amounted to anything but wasted time and giant bills. The brain fog that made me lose words or forget what I was looking for mid-search. The grief and depression that made it all feel so hopeless.
No villain or obstacle I could dream up to pit against one of my characters could be so insidious. Or justify stepping away from life so completely, for so long.
“Are you better now?” Wade asked quietly. “Physically?”
“I am,” I told him after a moment of hesitation, running my hands through my wet hair. Mostly. “Can it please be your turn again? This AMA was supposed to be about you, not me. And don’t describe your favorite lunch meat or your dream vacation, either. I need something big to make me feel better about admitting how pathetic I am.”
I knew he wanted more details, but I was close to cracking.
“This race might be my last as their mechanic,” he said abruptly. “I haven’t told the guys yet. Only Kingston.”
I gasped, the water splashing around me as my hands dropped in surprise. “Bullshit.”
“I’m adding Dalton, the kid I rented my apartment to, onto the pit crew to see if he’s a good fit, so I won’t feel like shit about leaving them in the lurch. Is that big enough for you?”
It wasn’t bad. I couldn’t imagine how Gene and the others would react if they found out. “Can I ask why?”
He looked over at Merlin, who’d curled up in his favorite spot on the rattan couch beside the apartment door, before meeting my gaze again. “I guess for the same reason I’ve been looking for a home of my own. It’s time to try something new.”
When I could only gape at him, his expression turned flinty. “It doesn’t sound like me, does it? Because I’m predictable.”
“I didn’t say that.” I would have said steadfast. Dependable. Admirable.
“I know what I am. But I’m ready to make some changes. I don’t want to be so stubbornly set in my ways I miss the chance for something better.”
Now he was looking at me like that something better might include me, but I tried not to read too much into it.
“Your turn again,” he said. “Does Morgan know you’re leaving yet?”