by Erika Kelly
“Weren’t you from San Antonio? Do I remember that correctly?”
“I grew up there, but we moved to Lake Placid when I was eight.”
“For snowboarding, right?”
He was making her pull the story out of him. If they were going to be up in each other’s business all summer, he might as well be as real with her as he could. “The first time I hit the slopes, I showed promise—whatever that means—so my dad made sure I got a lot of attention. But the truth was, he was trying to keep me busy.”
His childhood was so damn ugly. Nothing like hers.
But he’d tell her. “It’s a long story, but basically my mom wasn’t all that into being a parent. Instead of buying groceries, she’d buy new running shoes. Instead of fixing the washing machine, she’d book a climbing trip. She was all about traveling the world and having big adventures. So, I think my dad gave me snowboarding as a way of making sure the money was spent on me and so I had something to do.” He glanced out the window. “I was alone a lot.”
“That’s so hard to imagine.”
“Yeah. So, at first, my dad sent me to a lot of camps in Colorado and Utah. But then, when I was eight, we moved to New York so I could live at the National Sports Academy.”
“You would’ve fit in well with my family. Our lives were so structured, and everyone’s an overachiever. Well, except me.”
“At least your parents loved you.”
He saw her reaction—sorrow chased quickly by a flash of anger. But she kept her words to herself, and he appreciated that.
“They did.” She gave him a soft smile. “I never questioned that.”
“My parents fought all the time. My dad would come home from work to see no food in the house, me alone, wearing clothes I’d outgrown, and I think the first thing he saw I was good at, he just threw me into it. Like, here’s something to do other than watch TV and wait for food to appear in the house.”
“Was your mom really that bad?”
“Yep. So, anyway, when I was twelve, we took a long weekend to go skiing in Vermont. Ari was on the bunny slope, while the three of us hit the black diamonds. At the end of the day, we were heading back to the lodge, when Ari said she wanted to go on one run with me.”
As he got to the heart of the story, it felt like touching the skin around a wound, the closer you got, the hotter the skin, the more pain. Until you hit the center, and then it stung so badly you had to hiss in a breath and close your eyes.
“I stayed right behind her so I could watch, make sure she was okay. I mean, it was a green slope, meant for beginners, so I wasn’t worried. She was coordinated, a good athlete.” He cracked the window, let the cool air wash over him. “Out of nowhere some asshole crashed into her. Lost control of his board. Total wipe out.”
Coco cringed. “I remember you said you saw it happen. I can’t even imagine what that did to you.”
He nodded. The sadness rose, swirling around him. He’d never get that image out of his head. “I wish I’d told her no. That I was done boarding for the day. At least, I could have been on her other side, so the asshole would’ve knocked into me. I’d give anything to go back to that day and tell myself, ‘Look over there, man. See that guy? He’s coming in fast.’” The deeper he got into the memory, the harder it was to breathe.
She reached for his hand and covered it with hers. It was warm, feminine, and it kept the sadness from sweeping him into that familiar space of panic and regret.
“She was just lying there, eyes closed. I knew not to touch her, but I needed to, you know? That’s my sister. People came running over. They wound up Life Flighting her to a hospital in Boston.” He would never forget the drive into the city. They’d left everything in the hotel, jumped in their car. His mom had turned into a boulder, silent and stiff. Wouldn’t say a word. His dad…his fingers kept flexing on the wheel, his focus intense on the snowy highway, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Coco kept a firm grip on him, her thumb idly caressing his skin.
“She never woke up. She was in the hospital for a week, tubes everywhere.” He glanced at her. Did she even want to hear this?
She squeezed his hand. Go on.
He’d never told this story to anyone. Ever. In seventeen years. And, now, he couldn’t stop the words if he’d tried. “It was torture, watching her in that bed. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything like it, but you’re kept on the razor’s edge of hope and utter fucking despair. You hear a sound, and you think, She’s back. You spend every waking moment bargaining with God, believing you can will her back to consciousness. If she lives, I’ll drop out of the academy. I’ll be a better brother. I mean, I knew what her life had to be like with my mother, right? So, what the hell was I doing living away from home? I would have done anything for her to live. But she didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I was there when it happened. We were staying in a hotel near the hospital. The sixth night, I could hardly sleep, because I had an idea. Something to say to her that I knew would get her to smile, get her hand to twitch. She wanted a dog, but if my mom couldn’t handle two kids, you know what she’d do with an animal. So, as soon as I got up, I went over there alone. I held her hand, and I told her, if she woke up, I’d quit the academy and come home to live with her, and we’d go to the shelter together, and I’d let her pick out whatever dog she wanted. She had a stuffed animal—it was a big-eared dog. She called him Boscoe. So, I said, Come on, Ari, wake up so we can go get you a real Boscoe.”
“You’re killing me here,” she said softly.
“She coded.” He heard the sound like it was happening right there in the Jeep. “Not right then. but a little later. The nurses came running in. Doctors. Someone herded me out of the room.” He grew sick, clammy. Smacked the button to open the window all the way.
Only when Coco reached for him, her hand cupping his shoulder, her head tilted against his, did he realize she’d pulled over to the side of the road. She must’ve done it a while ago.
He stayed perfectly still, letting her warmth seep into him, her kindness pull him from the depths of the memory.
A truck roared past, rocking the Jeep. She didn’t say a word, and he would remember this moment forever, because while he rarely talked about it, when the death of his sister did come up, the way people responded made him feel worse. Nobody knew what to say. They got this desperate look in their eyes, like they wanted to be anywhere but in that moment with him.
And it just made him not want to talk about it, ever.
But Coco…made it all right.
Her head lifted, a sheen of tears in her eyes, and she kissed his cheek.
But he was so desperate for her that he turned and caught the corner of her mouth—and it fucking electrified him. All at once, he was caught up in the floral scent of her shampoo, the warm grip of her hand on him, and he wanted more.
Forget Vegas, forget memories, forget anything other than this moment, this closeness with her.
She roused a hunger he’d never felt before.
And right then he knew why he’d chosen her to share the story with. Because his system was programmed for her.
Fuck.
Her expression turned from compassion to awareness, and she sat up, putting both hands back on the wheel.
She’d seen it, the desire burning in him. And she’d shut it down instantly.
Message received.
We’re not going there.
“It must’ve been hard to go back to snowboarding.”
Pulse pounding, he had to look away from her. This woman…she just did it for him. In every way.
Snowboarding. Right. “I didn’t…uh…” He swallowed, his skin cooling, desire banking. “I took some time off, but it was terrible at home. My parents were destroyed.”
“I can’t even imagine. I don’t know how I’d function.”
“My dad got his shit together. Said he didn’t have a choice. Bills to pay, mouths to feed. He enrolled me in public s
chool, stocked the fridge and pantry, and went back to work. But my mom…she disappeared. We don’t know where she went, but it was anywhere but home.”
“What made you go back?”
“I’ll tell you exactly what did it. Ari was only on that slope because she wanted to be like me. And there I was failing my classes, no friends, the saddest fucking home life you’ve ever seen—I mean, silence at the dinner table so bad that my dad and I just stopped trying. He’d hit the drive-through on the way home, toss the bags on the dining room table, and then just sit in front of the tube. I’d take my bag to my room.”
“And you have no idea what your mom was doing?”
“None. In my memories of that time, it was just me and my dad in a house that smelled like French fries. So, one night, I was on my bed, texting a friend from the academy, and I got a notification. My aunt posted a picture on social media. It was of me and Ari. She was wearing a snowsuit and looking up at me like I was her hero. My aunt wrote something like, Remembering my niece tonight, how she loved her big brother, and it all clicked into place for me. I needed to be the man Ari knew, not the sad sack eating fast food burgers alone in his room.”
She gave him a soft smile. “So, even though she hasn’t been physically present, she’s been with you every step of the way.”
Floored, he could only let the idea wash over him. “I like that idea a lot.” He couldn’t think of another time in his life when he felt more locked in the moment. When he wasn’t thinking about his next step, planning his next move. Coco and he…they just connected. In a very real, very intimate way.
“I’ve never told anyone the whole story.” He gazed out the window, realized they were parked alongside the Bison Preserve. “There’s just something about you. I felt it in Vegas, and I feel it now. This…connection.”
“I know. Believe me, I feel it, too.” She reached for the gearshift. “I should get you home. Have you booked a flight yet?”
“No, I’ll do it now.” He touched a lock of her silky hair. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t. Well, I mean, it’s not what you said. It’s us. This attraction. I just think things are complicated enough, you know? We need to keep things focused on Posie. She’s the most important thing in the world for both of us right now.”
“You’re right.” He lowered his arm, rubbed both hands on his thighs. “I left my phone at home, but I’ll book the flight as soon as we get back.”
“You’re not going to forget about us, are you?” Her tone was teasing, but he didn’t miss the strain around her eyes.
“Impossible.” She didn’t trust him to stick around. He got that. But there was one thing she didn’t understand.
For him, Coco Cavanaugh was unforgettable.
Chapter Ten
In the hours since he’d returned his rental car to the airport agency, flown to Denver, and finished out the journey to Boulder, he’d discovered something important.
He missed Posie. Throughout the day, something would catch his eye, and he’d wonder if she’d like it. And Coco? She was all he could think about. When he’d nodded off on the plane, he’d dreamt of her. Had his hands all over her warm, soft skin, his tongue tracing every curve…the jolt of excitement had shaken him wide awake.
He missed them. It didn’t make sense, considering he’d only known them a short time.
The craziest thing was that he should be in Thailand right now, diving to see whale sharks. That had always been on his bucket list. But he didn’t give a damn. He could travel there anytime.
Posie would never be five again. And he’d already missed so much. Right now, it was her bedtime. She’d either be flying around like a fairy or pitching a fit because they’d run out of the sparkly toothpaste, and fairies didn’t use the plain stuff. Whichever it was, he hated missing it.
He willed the taxi driver to floor it up the mountain to his cabin, so he could hurry up and get back to Calamity.
Headlights hit the reflective tape on his mailbox. “This it?” the driver asked.
“Yep.” He grabbed his duffle bag and handed the older woman a couple of bills. “Thank you.”
“Have a good night,” she said, before pulling back out.
Beckett’s boots crunched on the bed of pine needles and dried leaves that covered his yard. The cab’s taillights cast a red glow on his property, revealing a lump on his welcome mat.
His heart jumped into his throat.
“Ollie?” Beckett dashed toward the house. Bushy tail thumping, the dog didn’t get up the way he normally would. Looked like he’d lost a lot of weight. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” He crouched, stroking the dog’s fur and combing through burs and clumps of dirt. “Jesus, you’re skin and bones.”
He glanced toward Mrs. Lionetti’s house but didn’t see any lights on. “Come on.” He stood up, jammed his key into the lock, and swung the door open. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
As always, his house sat still, empty. A couch, a coffee table. Nothing hung on the walls. He didn’t even have a dining room table. He’d either eat standing up at the sink or while watching television. Heading straight for the cabinet, he pulled down two bowls. He let the tap run for a few minutes before filling one of them with water.
In the past year, as Mrs. Lionetti’s health deteriorated, her adult kids had wanted to find the dog a new home, but Ollie was the only companionship the old woman had, so she wouldn’t let them. Whenever Beckett was in town, the dog wound up on his doorstep. He fed him, bathed him, and took him on walks.
Normally, he could see a single light glowing in Mrs. Lionetti’s bedroom window. With the difficulty she faced getting around, she slept with it on. Sadness settled over him. He suspected she’d finally passed. “How long have you been waiting for me?”
He brought the other bowl into the pantry, where he kept a big bag of kibble, and scooped some out. Ollie immediately started wolfing it down.
Beckett sat beside him, stroking his matted fur, too aware of the bones he didn’t normally feel on the mixed breed dog. “Dude, go easy or it’s all going to come back up.” Not wanting him to eat too much, Beckett got up and headed into his bathroom to start the bath.
“Come on, buddy,” he called. “Let’s clean you up.” When Ollie didn’t come, Beckett went into the kitchen and gently nudged him aside so he could set the two bowls on the counter. “I know you’re hungry, but I want you to keep it all down.” The dog’s nails clacked on the wood floor as they headed to the bathroom. Lifting him, Beckett set him into the warm water and found the dog shampoo in the cabinet under the sink.
Beckett scooped up water with cupped hands and poured it over him. With the fur plastered to his body, it accentuated the bony frame. Lathering up his hands with some flea and tick shampoo, he gave Ollie a thorough scrub. He couldn’t bring a flea-ridden animal into Coco’s home.
His heart pinched at the thought that Ollie was now his. One, because his lifestyle didn’t work for a dog, but also because tomorrow he’d find out what happened to Mrs. Lionetti. He suspected it wasn’t good. But, if her kids didn’t mind, he’d be taking the dog with him. It wasn’t like he’d let Ollie go to the Humane Society.
Would Coco even let him bring a dog into the carriage house? Maybe Posie had allergies. He’d text her to find out. Otherwise, his dad would have to watch him until Beckett came back.
And then what? Who’d take care of Ollie after he left for France and resumed his travels?
A week ago, his future had been clear—his calendar was booked well into next year. But right now? He couldn’t see anything past the next few days, taking care of Ollie and driving back to Calamity. Getting back to his girls.
After that?
He just didn’t know.
Later, after polishing off a can of soup and a sleeve of crackers, Beckett sat on the couch, Ollie crashed out over his thighs. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table.
Beckett: So…I have this friend…and he
might want to hang out with me for a while.
Coco: Keggers in the carriage house are a hard no.
Beckett: My friend doesn’t drink beer.
Coco: Does he drink champagne?
Beckett: Tap water’s fine. Though he does have a clear preference for toilet water.
Coco: Clue #1. Your friend doesn’t understand the purpose of a toilet.
Beckett: No, he prefers the woods.
Coco: And fire hydrants?
Beckett: I mean, I can ask…?
Coco: Did you get Posie a dog????
Beckett: No! I wouldn’t do that to you. When I got home, I found my neighbor’s dog on my porch. He’s lost a lot of weight. I’m thinking…the house next door might be vacant now.
Coco: They abandoned their dog? Who does that?
Beckett: That came out wrong. She’s elderly. Health declining. Ollie’s always spent time with me when I’m in town, so I think if she passed away, it would make sense for him to come to me.
Coco: Damn you, Beckett O’Neill. You know I can’t say no to that.
Beckett: I can bring him to my Dad’s if it’s a problem.
He stroked the dog’s fur, and Ollie gave a relieved and contented sigh. He would have a hard time giving this sweet orphan away.
Coco: I think you know Posie wants a dog. My worry is what happens when you leave. She gets very attached.
He absolutely understood. More than anything, he’d wanted a pet as a kid. But they couldn’t have one. Not with a mother who neglected everyone’s needs so she could travel the world.
But…Ollie.
Beckett: Is that a no? I understand if it is.
His phone rang, and he smiled when he saw her name. “Hey.”
“We agreed to be honest with each other, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m feeling really uncomfortable about you staying for the summer.”
He hadn’t expected to hear that. Worse, he hadn’t expected the hit of anxiety.
She doesn’t want me to come back? “Okay.”
Not seeing Posie again? He was back in that kitchen, watching Posie fly her dolls around, while Coco talked on the phone with one of her suppliers. He could smell the clean mountain air breezing in through an open window, feel it wash over his skin.