Chapter 13 #2
“Ace. Who doesn’t like hot tubs?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure some people don’t.” His gaze slides down my body again. “I wouldn’t mind spending some time in a hot tub with you. In a bathing suit or…”
At the thought of Ace naked in a hot tub, my core clenches with need. Tingles race through my body. Almost breathlessly, I reply, “I wouldn’t mind spending some time in a hot tub with you, either.”
Ace thinks for a second. “I’ll have to talk to the guys about putting in a hot tub. There might be room out on the deck. Although that’s not very private. Maybe it would be better to set one up further away from the house. In one of those outdoor things—a gazebo, I think my mom calls them?”
“A gazebo would work. Or a pergola.”
“A pergola? What’s that?”
“It’s like a gazebo, except a different shape. And sometimes they just have beams across the top instead of a roof. But for a hot tub, you’d want to enclose it a little more.”
Nodding, Ace pulls out his phone and types a quick note. Then he slides it back into his pocket and says, “Okay. I added a reminder to bring it up at the next team meeting. Hot tub. Top priority.”
“A hot tub is a higher priority than security stuff?” I ask with amusement.
He gives me a solemn look. “It is when it means I get to see you all wet and sexy inside it.”
A needy ache builds inside me. “I think I’m in favor of a hot tub, too.”
Suddenly, I’m very sorry I’m still healing, and not because of the aches and pains that haven’t gone away yet. It’s because Ace won’t do anything more than kissing or gently hugging me, which my brain understands but my body doesn’t.
My body wants to take things further. It wants to feel Ace’s bare skin against mine. It wants to know what it feels like to have him inside me.
Soon, I silently vow. In two days, it’ll be a week since the attack. That’s plenty of time to recuperate. I’ll dim the lights in the bedroom so Ace can’t see my fading bruises as well, forgo a towel when I get out of the shower and come out naked instead, and then I’ll—
“Yara?”
“Hmm?” I glance at Ace, who’s watching me with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks. For the fifth time today, for the record. He starts to steer me towards the couch. “Maybe the trip to Bea’s was too much for you. Why don’t you lie down for a bit?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, and it’s not just something I’m saying to pacify him. “I was thinking about the hot tub. And other sexy things.”
“Oh.” His voice dips. “Were you?”
“I was.” Releasing his hand, I place mine on his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten beneath my fingers. He sucks in a sharp breath as I move my hand lower, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans. “I was thinking about you naked, too.”
“Yara.” His pupils dilate. “I would love that. But not—” His jaw tightens. A bulge swells between his legs. “Not now. You’re hurt.”
“Not that hurt,” I retort. “And I’m feeling better every day.”
“Your fingers.”
“I don’t need them for everything.”
“The stitches.”
“Would be fine.”
Indecision flickers in Ace’s eyes. For a moment, I think he’s going to agree. But then he shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to force away the temptation. “Not yet,” he says firmly. “I won’t risk hurting you.”
Removing my hand from his stomach, he wraps his fingers around mine. “Anyway,” he continues, “I have a surprise for you. If you’re feeling up to seeing it.”
Tamping down my disappointment and mentally renewing my vow to try again in a day or two, I ask, “What kind of surprise?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” He flicks a quick grin at me as he leads me across the living room and towards the hallway.
“I suppose not. But you could give me a hint.”
“It’s in the guest room.”
“Ace. That’s not a hint.”
With a chuckle, he retorts, “Yes, it is. I could have said the garage. Or outside.”
I huff at him. “Anything could be in the guest bedroom.”
“Not a car. Or a boat.”
“Would you get me a boat? Really?”
He gives me another of those shy looks. “If you wanted one.”
“I don’t,” I assure him. “And I already have a car. A perfectly nice one.” Something occurs to me. “Maybe I could see the one you’re working on? The Mustang?”
Pleasure pinks his cheeks. “Of course. Any time you like.” Then we reach the guest room, stopping in front of the closed door. “I want you to close your eyes,” Ace says. “Just for a second. For the big reveal.”
It’s been a long time since someone surprised me with anything; not since Christmas Eve five years ago, when Wells gave me a vintage Transformers figure after hearing how the show was part of the reason I got into robotics.
I still have the figure, tucked in the back of my closet because it was too hard to look at it and remember that night.
But now… I’m wondering if that was the right decision.
Maybe I’ll take it out when I get home. Put it on a shelf, so I’m reminded of all the things I loved about Wells, instead of trying not to think about him at all.
“You don’t have to close your eyes if you don’t want to,” Ace adds. “If it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t think.”
Blinking away the burn of tears, I reply quickly, “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” In emphasis, I squinch my eyes shut. “All ready.”
There’s a silent pause before I hear the distinctive snick of the doorknob opening. Ace loops his arm around my shoulders and nudges me forward a few steps. He exhales before saying, “Okay. Open your eyes.”
In the moment before I do, my heart flutters. I know it can’t be anything bad, but—
As soon as I open my eyes, I gasp.
It’s not a gift.
Not a miniature boat.
Not anything I could have imagined.
Because it’s not a gift, not in the traditional sense.
It’s my workshop, perfectly replicated right down to the whiteboards tacked on the walls and the little fridge I keep my energy drinks in.
And there, on the table in the center, is my current project; the one I’ve been so disappointed not to be able to work on.
“My workshop,” I gasp. “How?”
Ace follows my gaze before turning to me. “I took lots of pictures,” he says. “So I could make sure everything went in the right place.”
“But… How did you get it all here?”
“I asked Indy and Webb to help. While we were still in Seattle, I took all the photos. And they went to your place yesterday to collect everything. Then I arranged it all while you were at Bea’s.”
“But…” I’m too surprised to say more.
“I picked up the special project before we left Seattle. Once you agreed to come back to B and A. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone else about it, so I wanted to get it myself.”
I look around the room again, taking in all the little details.
The magnets arranged just so on the fridge.
The vintage Voltron figure my dad gave me for my tenth birthday.
The ridiculously expensive coffee maker Annaliese sent me last Christmas that rivals anything I’ve seen in a gourmet coffee shop.
“Ace. It’s amazing. But… I can’t work on anything right now. Not with my hand—”
“I thought I could help,” he interjects. There’s a hopeful note to his voice. “Like I did before. We could work together. You said it makes you feel better. Having your projects to work on. Now you can.”
Emotion brings a lump to my throat. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
He looks at me with a worried expression. “Is it too much? Did I overstep? Maybe I should have asked you first.”
If it were anyone else, I might agree that it was overstepping. That he should have asked me before transporting all the contents of my workshop all the way to his guest bedroom. But how could I possibly be upset about it when the intent was so sweet? So thoughtful? So—
Shoot.
As sweet of a gesture this is, I don’t live here. This isn’t my apartment. And soon, we’re going to have to pack all this stuff up and move it back to my house.
Ace’s mouth droops. “I’m sorry, Yara. I was being too pushy again, wasn’t I?”
“A little pushy, but I don’t mind. I love what you did.”
“But?”
“But I have to leave. So you did all this work only to have to pack it back up.”
“Leave?” His brows pinch into a puzzled V. “Why would you leave?”
“Because I don’t live here? And I have a job in Seattle?”
Ace turns to me. His gaze is more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen it.
“But maybe you could stay? Through the month, at least? It’s only another couple of weeks.
You said you’d like to do some holiday things.
We could go into Williston, like you talked about.
And join our Thanksgiving dinner. It’s nothing fancy, but we have tons of food, and family comes, and we have a big bowling tournament after. ”
My heart tugs at the hope in his eyes. “What about my job, though?”
“Didn’t you say you have lots more vacation time? And we could go into Seattle for the day if you need to go to the office.”
Logic says it’s too soon. That it would make sense to wait. To keep things long-distance until we’re more sure of things.
But I don’t want to leave.
I want Ace to help me with my project.
I want to celebrate Thanksgiving with him and everyone else at B and A.
Yes, going back to Rainier Beach would be the more logical decision. But is it the one I really want?
Life can change on a dime, a silent voice reminds me. You never know how much time you have with the people you love. Do you really want to waste any of it if you don’t have to?
But I don’t love him, the logical voice argues. Not yet.
Are you sure, the first voice asks. Are you really sure about that?
No, I’m not. And I don’t want to waste the time I have with Ace.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Would you want to stay?”
“Yes,” I blurt before I can second guess myself. The instant the word is out, a feeling of rightness sweeps over me. “Yes. I’ll stay.”