by Cassie Mae
She shot up straight and fumbled for words. “Have…have you checked the kitchen supply closet?”
He studied her for a long moment before shaking his head and gluing his gaze to the cabinet in front of him. “Charlie’s in there. Didn’t want to wake him. The storm’ll freak him out.”
Kennedy could feel the icy tension creep its way back between them, and still not knowing what in the world she’d done to deserve the harsh look he was giving the second shelf, she set her jaw and all but pushed him out of the way. With her newfound determination to find a source of light for herself just to get out of his hair, she caused quite a ruckus as she shoved and jostled and smooshed every bit of the disorganized cabinet.
Her fingers tripped over something hard and waxy on the bottom shelf, and she ducked down to find a candle and two books of matches stacked against it. A wave of relief washed through her, and she grabbed the items, handed a matchbook to Aaron—careful not to touch his skin—and squared her shoulders. She left with a forced grin and not a word in parting. It took all she had not to glance over her shoulder to see if the sudden departure affected him as much as it had her.
She thought it would be satisfying to return the hostile attitude, but when she got to the top-floor landing, all she felt was disappointment that they were no longer in the same room, and she was left with only an urn to talk to.
Chapter 7
Aaron
Aaron stared at the battery-operated clock that hung over the fire he’d managed to get started. In the dim light, he could just make out the larger hand tick past the 9 while the small crawled toward the 8. He tore off another chunk of his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich and tossed it to Charlie, who immediately went up on his hind legs to catch it midair.
“Atta boy,” he praised, but his mind was halfway upstairs with Kennedy. He wasn’t at all surprised by her change in attitude toward him, given how he’d been acting. The devil on his shoulder was growing louder and louder each time he bumped into her, and when he saw her earlier so casually dressed, long, bare legs and painted toenails, faded pink hoodie that revealed a white thin-strapped undershirt pulled tight across a breathtaking chest…he’d barely strung two words together, let alone kept his staring under control. When he’d managed to rip his eyes from her, he’d had to do some internal convincing yet again. He’d been down the road of falling for the wrong girl. Jared never forgave him for it, and he didn’t blame him in the slightest.
Jared’s gone, the devil whispered, and Aaron shook his head free of the awful thought.
A roll of thunder rumbled overhead, and Aaron’s gaze drifted up the stairs. His instincts told him to go check on Kennedy—just to see if she was all right—but warning signs popped up, telling him to keep his distance. She’d come down here if she wasn’t, and Aaron wasn’t sure how many more times he’d find the strength to stay away. The hours ahead of him were going to be nothing short of torture—most likely penance for past sins.
Charlie jumped up onto the couch next to Aaron, nudging his head under the crook of Aaron’s arm. The pup wasn’t too keen on the summer storms that blew in even on the clearest of days. Aaron absentmindedly stroked the gray and white fur on top of his dog, tapping an anxious rhythm against the rug under his foot. Maybe she was asleep. It was early for most people, but the darkness might have convinced her it was much later. Or she might be working; laptop batteries last awhile, and if it was full when the power went out…
She could be bored; he certainly would be if his mind wasn’t running like a freight train. The decent thing would be to at least provide her with some company. He had stuck to his allotted time last night; he could do it again. Set the timer for when the lights blazed back on, and he could go back to being just another person she met while on vacation.
Yes, he was good with that, but just as he found his resolution, Charlie jerked, his tail suddenly beating wildly against the back of the couch. His collar jangled as he lifted his head toward the stairs.
She stood at the bottom of the stairwell, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the pink hood of her hoodie up on top of her tangled, short hair. Her chocolate eyes were wide and apologetic, almost wary that she’d trespassed into his space. Aaron’s gut dipped at the expression, and he grinned, hoping that he looked more inviting, less torn about being around her.
“Hey,” she said. Aaron held back a chuckle at the timidity in her voice, despite the friendly greeting.
“Hey.”
Thunder crashed overhead, and Kennedy winced, her entire body jerking and curling into the blanket. Something silver gleamed as she hugged it to her chest, and Aaron felt his heart stop for a brief moment with the realization of what she was holding.
“I can’t stay up there anymore,” she said with a laugh. Aaron lifted his gaze from the urn to her hesitant eyes. “There are too many noises. And I swear one more breeze is going to knock that wing of the place right off and blow it into Oz.”
Aaron’s lip quirked upward, and he patted the spot next to Charlie on the couch. A buffer is good, and the husky was a nice big one.
Charlie’s tail grew even more wild and anxious as Kennedy padded her way over and slunk into the couch cushions. His whole body shook against Aaron, waiting for the okay to pounce on the new person.
“You okay with dogs?” he asked, ignoring the mouthwatering scent of coconut and lemon that she brought into the room.
She tilted her head, a curious smile teasing the corner of her mouth. “Yes…” she said, dragging the word out in all its suspicion.
Aaron grinned and nodded to the pup. “Go ahead.”
Charlie whipped around so fast that Aaron got a tail to the chin while Kennedy had to cling to the urn so it didn’t topple to the floor. Her laughter was muffled by fur as Charlie prodded and nudged her into scratching his ears.
A surprising warmth slipped under Aaron’s skin as he watched them, and he felt himself relaxing as if he were settling in a hot tub after a long day of work. A bemused chuckle fell off his lips, and as soon as Kennedy got Charlie somewhat settled down, she lifted her eyes to his.
“You are the only one he listens to,” she said. “He was a lot more aggressive the first time I met him.”
Aaron turned a stern look at his dog. “How aggressive?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she assured him, patting the husky lightly on the top of his head. Charlie’s tail swung back and forth even as he lay down. “How old is he?”
“Nine months.” Aaron put a hand on Charlie’s back. “Got him when he was three months, and thought he could use a bit of training before the big road trip. We’re still working on it, though.”
“Road trip?”
“When I moved. I was in L.A. up until about a month ago.”
She blinked her surprise away. “Why’d you come back home?”
“Needed it,” Aaron said, shocked at how easily the words fell out. “The classic soul-searching after a friend passes away.”
His nerves jerked at the candor that had run away with him. He didn’t know what had come over him—something in the relaxed way she made him feel had his thoughts tumbling out with no filter. He had better fix it soon, though, or she would find out just how often she had crossed his mind since she’d been in town.
Kennedy’s expression, however, was not one of sorrow or anger at the offhanded comment about Jared’s death. It was the opposite, actually. Her eyes brightened, and there was a sparkle somewhere in her grin.
“Jared could do that when he was alive,” she said, mindlessly stroking Charlie’s fur. “Inspire a soul-searching trip or encourage someone to do something out of their comfort zone. Can’t tell you how many times I did something I never would have if he wasn’t all, ‘I’m dying in a few months, and I’m doing it.’ ”
Aaron laughed, warming from the way she remembered his once best friend. It was the way he wished to remember him, but he always had to wade through so many painful memories to get to
the good ones.
“He used a similar excuse when he lived here. Something along the lines of YOLO before it became popular.” Aaron let out a laugh at a faded memory that came back into focus. “He once jumped in the lake when it looked just like that.”
Aaron nodded toward the back, where the open drapes revealed a darkened sky and an angry body of water in the distance. Kennedy gave it one look and shook her head hard.
“Oh, he would’ve gotten an earful if I knew that before.” Her eyes flicked to the urn, which she’d set on the coffee table, and Aaron hid a grin at the way she silently scolded it.
“I didn’t give him an earful….I had to jump in after him when he got sucked under.”
Kennedy’s eyes widened to saucers. “What? When was this?”
Aaron ran a hand over his chin. “We were ten, I think? Maybe eleven.”
She shook her head, her mouth slightly hung open. “He never told me about that.”
Aaron felt his stomach crumple, as if a needle were piercing into his abdomen and sucking him dry. He wondered if Jared had erased him entirely from his past, not even telling the woman he loved about his childhood best friend for…well, for countless reasons, but was fear one of them? Was Jared afraid that Aaron would repeat the same mistake he had regretted since its occurrence?
Then as Kennedy used a single finger to swipe away a loose piece of hair that hung across her forehead, Aaron felt the undeniable pang of guilt hit him like a sledgehammer. How cruel was the universe, providing him with yet another temptation—a stronger one at that?
“What happened?” Kennedy prodded, shifting until her legs were tucked under her, the blanket, and Charlie’s head.
“I was lucky,” Aaron continued, hoping the relaxed air would soon surround him again. “I jumped in, reached out, and there he was. It happened so fast that I can hardly remember what happened, just that I was terrified out of my mind and pissed at Jared.” A humorless laugh fell off his lips. “As soon as I saw he was okay, that he was breathing…I socked him right in the nose.”
Kennedy’s entrancing lips split open in a laugh that Aaron could feel all the way down to his toes. “I’ve come very close to doing that same thing. If only I had the balls.”
Aaron shook his head. “Pretty sure it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with how scared I was.”
“Well, I’d say that was pretty brave.” She ran a hand over Charlie’s fur again. “Both the rescue and the fist to the face.”
A sense of pride swelled up inside him, but Aaron quickly snuffed it out. He wasn’t deserving of the compliment, and he was sure he wouldn’t have received any if she knew how his friendship ended with the man she loved.
A low rumbling sounded through the room, softer than the previous thunder rolls. Aaron checked out the window but couldn’t see a difference in the weather. His eyes swung back to Kennedy running two delicate hands over her stomach.
“Was that you?” he asked through a laugh.
“It’s been a long night without food,” she said, her cheeks a luscious shade of pink.
He leaned forward, reaching for the extra sandwich he’d planned on eating later in case lunch ran into dinner—which it obviously had. “I have a sandwich. Not sure if you want it, though.” His lip tilted. “Jared used to make fun of the pairing I preferred with peanut butter.”
Her spine straightened, a hopeful look crossing her expression. “Marshmallow Fluff?”
He held up the bag in surprise, nodding. “You want it?”
“You’re not going to eat it?”
“Already had one.” He extended the sandwich out to her, and she could not seem to take it fast enough. There was the smallest touch of her fingers against his—so small and so brief that he wasn’t sure it happened at all until he felt the white-hot heat that always accompanied it shoot through his extremities. A grin pulled at him in more places than just his lips.
She moaned around the first bite, unabashedly indulging in the treat. “Oh yeah, baby, that hits the spot.”
Aaron chuckled. “Knew I wasn’t the only person who liked that combination.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “My mom called them fluffernutters. Jared called them vomit inducers.”
Aaron smiled, absolutely entranced by the way Kennedy’s nose wrinkled when she laughed. He’d been around his share of beautiful women, spent time in their company, but he’d yet to be around someone so naturally intoxicating. He didn’t have to wonder what drew Jared to her.
His gaze fell to the urn resting on the coffee table, the firelight dancing on the reflective surface. Kennedy must have noticed him staring, because she slowed her devouring of the sandwich and swallowed.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so…second nature all of a sudden,” she said. “Talking about him, I mean.”
Aaron met her eyes. “I think it was me who brought him up.” He paused, carefully studying the way her lips twitched, the slightest shrug of her shoulders, and the nervous way her fingers picked off another piece of her food. “I’m sorry. I know you said it’s been hard to be around people who knew him.”
Her back sank farther into the throw pillow behind her, and she shook her head. “For some odd reason, it’s not hard with you.”
He jolted back only slightly, the fact that she’d been so candid shocking him, not the words themselves. “I can say the same.” His admission was rewarded with a beautiful flush that ran over her neck and across the peekaboo of cleavage he could see beyond the open zipper of her hoodie.
She reached down to scratch her dainty ankle over the blanket. Charlie shifted slightly, his eyes dead set on her as he waited for her to share the treat dangling in front of his nose.
“You know, I think this whole storm is his fault.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed. “Who? Jared?”
She nodded. “I was a little snippy with him earlier.” She tore off a long piece of crust and lifted an eyebrow, silently asking Aaron if Charlie was okay to share.
Aaron nodded and watched as the husky gobbled it up without even chewing, but his mind was still on what Kennedy was saying. “You talk to him?”
She swallowed the bite in her mouth. “I can’t seem to stop. It’s what I miss the most.”
He inhaled, silently agreeing with her; talking to Jared was something he’d missed for a very, very long time.
The storm kicked up, and something crashed against the side of the B&B, jolting them both. Kennedy shrank into the blanket, and Charlie must have sensed her worry, climbing even farther onto her lap. Aaron didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he reached over and patted her knee. The contact all but scorched his palm.
“It’s all right. These storms happen all the time. Probably just one of the screen doors.”
A flash of amusement touched her fearful eyes, her breathing somewhat labored when she spoke. “You sound like Jared now.” She grinned. “Always telling me everything was all right.” She gave the urn a pointed look. “Damn liar.”
Aaron half-smiled and squeezed her soft, bare knee before drawing his hand back. “Promise you, it is all right this time.”
Her eyes stayed on him while he frantically tried to guess what was going through her mind. She seemed touched, confused, worried, sad, relieved…all in the span of a few short seconds. It wasn’t until thunder crashed and lightning flashed right outside the window that they jerked out of their staring contest, allowing Charlie to think the rest of the “fluffernutter” was his.
Kennedy frowned at her empty hands as the husky swallowed the food, a grateful smile on his chops. Aaron couldn’t help but laugh at the turn of events.
“You want me to raid the pantry for you? See what Chels has got?”
She shook her head, her shoulders moving with silent laughter. “Maybe later.” She rubbed Charlie’s head, smooshing his cheeks. “I sure hope you enjoyed that, you little thief.”
Charlie clucked his tongue as he tried to get the peanut butter off the roof of
his mouth. Aaron’s heart palpitated in a strange and foreign beat as Kennedy took it all in good fun. He wasn’t one to compare one woman to another, but he knew that if he’d been with Natalie tonight as originally planned, the reaction would have been massively different. It was strange to think that it was Kennedy’s arrival that had been the push he needed to end the casual fling—to end all future casual flings.
“Why are you here?” he blurted out, and Kennedy lifted a curious brow to him. “I mean in Lyra Valley.” His eyes fell to the urn before returning to her mesmerizing chocolate irises. “Seems a strange place to visit ‘indefinitely.’ ”
She took in a deep breath. “Jared asked me to spread his ashes over the lake. Apparently Chelsea knows it will take me that long to pluck up the courage to do it.” She laughed at herself. “It did take me a year to get myself out here.”
A thought prodded at Aaron—a thought he wasn’t sure he should be having. But if Kennedy had come sooner, he might not have been back home. He might not have ever met her. It was a rare instance when he thought that fate might be intervening, but he chased the notion away with an internal scoff. It could hardly be fate—that seemed too positive a word. Punishment, perhaps, that a beautiful and interesting woman would arrive just after him and his newfound conviction to find…well, a beautiful and interesting woman. Only she was Jared’s first, and while that might not mean something to someone else, it did to Aaron.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much about it,” he said. After all, it had been years before he finally plucked up the courage to do something he hadn’t been keen on doing.
Another round of thunder boomed overhead, and Kennedy jumped and then cursed at the ceiling. “Seriously, knock that off!” she scolded what Aaron assumed was a ghostly Jared playing with the weather controls. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”
Aaron watched, trying his best to keep his amusement under control. Kennedy’s shoulders slumped.
“Sorry. It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“You yelling at him?” He laughed. “Not in the slightest.”