All the Days After

by Carrie Thorne

  Pulling away only slightly to see her face, but hesitant to let her go, Asher looked down at her. He wiped away the stray tear she hadn’t been able to withhold despite her efforts. “Why don’t you change your phone number tomorrow, before you start work and start establishing yourself in Foothills. Change your email. You’ll be moving soon. Make her at least work to find you.”

  “She’ll find me.”

  Expression stern, Asher was on a mission to make this harassment stop. Not exactly within his repertoire of skills, unless she wanted Yvette watched, abducted, or assassinated. If he officially got the police job, he’d be well-equipped to help. He’d submitted everything the moment he’d gotten home, now it just depended on how fast Jonah worked. If she spread the lies she was threatening, Sophie should have a damn good case. Maybe Lincoln could help? “If she does, you call me.”

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  “Anytime. Always.” A crushing ache in his chest, Asher wished he could do more for her.

  They stood there for minutes, hours, who knew. He couldn’t seem to let go, and neither could she. Since age twelve she’d lived with that monster of a woman. How did she turn out so normal? His dad was downright patient and supportive by comparison.

  “I’m okay now.” Sophie pulled back and managed a soft smile. “I’m going to get changed.”

  Asher didn’t want to let go, but knew he had to. She knew he was here if she needed him. Needed anything. He managed a nod and watched her walk into the house.

  Giving her a few minutes, he tried to calm whatever the hell was going on inside his head. Sophie was nothing he’d ever expected. Like no one he’d met before. She was a fascinating mix of enduring character and determination to make her way in the world. An open book he still didn’t know enough about.

  He trotted over to the garage and shut the door, giving up on his truck for the night. It had made a few decent drives now, but it wasn’t long for this world. Despite the knowledge that it was time to invest in a replacement, he didn’t want to give it up. His grandfather had driven that truck since he bought it off the showroom floor, and it had always been a safe haven for Asher.

  Feeling more than a little at loose ends, but damn tired and ready to crash, Asher headed into the house. After the day he’d had, he should have expected the tirade as soon as he walked in the door. Couldn’t catch a break.

  Pippa stood staring, her accusing scowl boring a searing hole into his soul. “Why is Sophie crying, and why are you wet with a lovely boob-height bikini imprint?”

  Done with her attitude, done apologizing for ancient mistakes, he blew up. “Because lovely Aunt Yvette just stopped by demanding money from Sophie. Threatened her while she was at it. I’m sorry for being there for your friend. And mine, by the way.”

  His angry bridezilla sister immediately softened. “Oh no. I wish I’d been out there. I assumed it was UPS or something. Did you give her a piece of your mind for me?”

  Eyebrows raised, jaw clenched, he nodded. “Hell yeah. What a witch.”

  Simultaneously looking up the stairs, his heart broke for Sophie, and he saw Pippa hurting for her friend as well.

  He stared up the stairs, wishing he knew what to do. Wondering if she was doing okay, if there was anything he could do to help. Unsure if she would prefer a moment alone or a distraction.

  “I’m glad you’re friends with Sophie. I feel bad. She’s in a new town and hasn’t started work yet. Pretty much just living at my beck and call these days, and I’ve been terrible company. I almost forgot her birthday. Mom said you brought home pie for tonight and we’re having a quasi-surprise party for her?” Pippa lowered herself into the living room couch, looking downright forlorn.

  Hoping this was the moment, he sat in the couch opposite. “She’s pretty awesome. I can see why you and she are such good friends.”

  Smiling reflectively, Pippa nodded. “She is. Got me through grad school, I swear.”

  Here goes nothing, “Pippa, about Sophie–”

  After a quick knock, the front door opened as the intruder let himself in. Grady. Dammit, not now. Worst timing ever. For the second time today. “Hey there. Sophie around?”

  Asher held firmly in his spot on the couch, not trusting himself to say anything decent. Pippa answered for them. “She’s in her room. I’d give her some space, though. Her aunt was here, and it was a pretty unpleasant interaction.”

  Grady nodded, looking quite sympathetic. “I’d like to talk to her anyway. I owe her a huge apology, so maybe she could use some kind words.”

  Selfish prick. Just let her be. Asher mentally berated himself. Maybe Grady was right; maybe he could at least right wrongs from earlier today and bring some relief to Sophie. Or he could make her day much worse.

  Puzzled, Pippa raised an eyebrow at Grady but apparently didn’t think she should pry. “You know which room is hers? I’ll bet she could use a good friend right now.”

  As Grady neared the top of the stairs, Asher hopped off the couch. “I’m going to go get changed into a dry shirt.” He headed straight for the bathroom that separated his and Sophie’s bedrooms. Not that he was intending to listen in, but, hey, what if Sophie needed backup?

  He could hear Grady’s voice easily through the door. “I’m so sorry about earlier. I’m sure it’s obvious, but I was rather hoping to ask you out myself. Guess I moved too slow, which I’m notorious for.”

  Sophie mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

  Grady continued, “I guess when I realized you and Asher had something going on, realizing I’d missed my window, I blew up. He’s got a reputation, and I know you haven’t dated much, so I worried that you were being taken advantage of.”

  Speaking louder this time, he could hear Sophie. “Apparently I give off that vibe. Thank you for worrying about me, but whatever it is about me that gives off this vibe, it’s not innocence. I just know myself well enough to know that I won’t pursue anyone that I can’t see myself with fifty years from now. Not anymore, anyway.”

  Silence reigned for a moment. A hopeful twinge fluttered in his gut. Fifty years from now, huh?

  He tried to picture what was happening. Grady was sitting down now? “And that’s not me, huh?”

  “Sorry, no. I really wanted to feel that way about you. You’re everything I’m looking for, but as Freya would put it, the pheromones just aren’t there.”

  “What is it about Asher? I was worried it was because Pippa warned you off about him and you had a forbidden fruit complex.” A long pause. Hopefully Sophie was giving him a good death glare. Or laughing in his face. “I heard about his history with Pippa’s friends.”

  Sophie’s voice was surprisingly calm. He wanted to punch him in the Adam’s apple. “First, that was a long time ago, and I don’t think Pippa sees her brother for who he is today. Nor was Pippa as good of friends with those particular few as she cares to recall.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t had sex. Second, if you got to know Asher at all, I think you’d like him too. He’s clever and thoughtful. He’s only been out of the navy for a short while and went through a lot. Give him time.”

  Somehow, Grady redeemed himself. “Okay. Lincoln likes him, and thinks you’re pretty capable, so I won’t tear the guy apart just yet.”

  As if. Navy SEAL. Expert in the kicking ass business. Not that he would; he was also trained when to use restraint. Tempting, however.

  “You going to tell Pippa or just send her a wedding invitation when the time comes?”

  He could hear Sophie calming, a genuine smile in her voice. “We’re holding off on saying anything to her until after the wedding. Pippa has enough on her plate right now. I just need to find a way to let her know she and I will always be friends, no matter what happens with Asher.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. For now. But, if he tries to pull anything, I’m raising the alarm, got it?”

  “Thanks, Grady.”

  Asher could he
ar Grady closing the bedroom door as he left. Moments later, he was about to sneak away when the bathroom door opened, the doorknob nearly smacking him on the ass as he tried to sneak away, undetected.

  “Get all that?” Sophie’s eyebrow was raised in challenge. The grin on her face destroyed any chance she may have had at appearing menacing.

  “I won’t kick his ass just yet.” He leaned down and pulled her against him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her body molded against his. Pressing his lips to hers, he savored the sweet, easiness of the kiss.

  Pulling back, Sophie sniffed the air, and a satisfied smile passed her lips. “Did I smell Italian for dinner? I’m starving.”

  Ignoring the mouthwatering scent of dinner wafting about the house, he stared at her mouth and growled, “Me too.” Lifting her up onto the bathroom counter, he devoured, feasting on her warm lips, soft neck, hands running along the smooth skin of her back.

  Ending the building tension before things got out of hand, he ended the kiss and shook his head to clear his one-track mind. Sophie did the same, hopping off the counter. He was falling so deep and so fast for Sophie, it was becoming painful to be unable to shout it from the damn rooftops. Not to mention, sexual frustration was a bitch and a half. A little release would go a long way to improving his mood.

  Turning, he headed out through his bedroom to change into a dry shirt. Just to piss off his dad, he pulled on a ripped up old Disturbed concert tee to match his dark mood. He was itching for a fight but wouldn’t start one. Unless provoked.

  14

  The shirt had the desired reaction. Paul didn’t say anything, but his pinched expression said it all for him. Leaned up against the kitchen counter as Denise pulled a piping hot pan of something delicious and Italian out of the oven, Paul took a swig of his beer to avoid commenting.

  Wordlessly, Paul pushed off from the counter and grabbed a beer for Asher from the fridge. He poured it into a glass and handed it to his son. His mother was oddly silent. Not good.

  “Join me out on the deck for a few.” Yep, the beer was not a peace offering but a blow-softener.

  Asher grabbed the offered beer and followed his dad out to the deck to the Adirondack chairs where he and Sophie enjoyed their coffee together each morning. A cool breeze was kicking up for the night. Shadows grew long across the deck as the sun dipped behind the house.

  Something more than the t-shirt was up. Paul kept starting to speak, then silencing himself. Denise and Pippa pretended to be deep in conversation… right next to the open window off the living room.

  Not realizing anyone was in earshot, or not caring, Paul finally let loose. “If you weren’t planning on working at Sutherland’s, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m really sorry, Dad. I really was planning on working there. Couldn’t say I’d planned to stay forever, but I was planning to give it a chance.” No longer thirsty, Asher set his beer on the wide arm of the chair.

  “Then why did Old Chief Larson just tell me congratu-fucking-lations on my son getting hired on at the police department? I sure looked like a moron telling him he was mistaken.” Prickly heat rose up Paul’s neck to behind his ears.

  Asher couldn’t hide his surprise, and his delight. “I got the job?”

  “According to Old Larson. He hates your guts, so I’m betting he wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why didn’t you tell me you were looking for other jobs? I would have hired somebody else weeks ago.” Paul set his beer on the armrest so brusquely, half of it splashed out the side. He shook off the spilled liquid from his hand as if personally attacked by the frothy beverage.

  Asher knew he should have said something, but he’d wanted to wait until he knew for sure. “I’m really sorry you found out that way, Dad. I honestly wasn’t looking for other jobs. Jonah, Young Larson, I guess, is chief now. He offered me the job, pending formal application, background checks and references, of course. I was waiting to hear back from him before I said anything.”

  “When did you see Jonah–” Paul thought before he finished speaking, for once. It was clear when it dawned on him. “The bank incident. I got so caught up with this whole wedding drama, I completely forgot to say anything. Now I’m the asshole around here. Asher, you did an incredible thing, rescuing those people. I’m guessing Young Larson was more than a little impressed with your skills?”

  Rare praise from a hard man. Trying not to make too much of it, hiding the warmth that nestled inside at hearing his father’s compliments, he nodded. “Yeah. He pretty much offered me the job right then and there. Guess they’ve had a hard time hiring folks with any sort of relevant work history or education these days.”

  Smile wide across his leathery cheeks, Paul marveled, “Or the balls to put himself in front of a bullet to save somebody else.”

  And that was the end of the moment. Paul went on a rant about folks lacking in common decency anymore, which led to a diatribe about his daughter’s future in-laws shirking any share of the cost burden, citing their own daughter’s wedding someday. Thank goodness she wasn’t marrying some slouch despite his questionable family. Complaining about money or the degradation of society was always a neutral topic, according to Paul, anyway.

  They weren’t questionable, they were actually really nice people, but Paul wasn’t in the mood to hear that right now. Asher bit his tongue and listened politely. Best not to endanger the truce that was still so fresh.

  Saved by the bell; Asher’s phone rang with a local number he didn’t recognize. He walked to the far end of the deck and stopped at the short stairs leading to the lawn to answer with a reasonable amount of privacy.

  “Asher,” he answered in his acquired crisp military accent. Couldn’t seem to shake it.

  The voice on the other end was kind, casual. “Hey, Asher. Jonah Larson here. Your application and background checks cleared our screens, and those were some pretty great references from your old Navy colleagues. If you’re sure want the job, we’d love to have you on the force. Being the new guy, you’ll get stuck with a lot of nightshifts to start.”

  Overcome with an optimism he hadn’t felt in a long time, Asher almost couldn’t find his voice to accept. “Absolutely. When do I start?”

  “Glad you’re eager to join us. Next training starts in about four weeks, that work out okay for you? You’ll join the rest of the recruits from across the state in Burien, undergo physical and psychological evaluations, polygraph, PAT test. Then the formal academy training; takes about three months to graduate. It’s a long haul.”

  “I made it through SEAL training; I’m sure I can handle it.” Asher’s chest was tight with nerves and excitement.

  “Great. Greg will be in touch with more details and have you come in for some paperwork to start the process.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Larson ended the call, thanking him for taking the position. Right place at the right time, that was for sure. As Sophie had pointed out, maybe his impulsivity wasn’t such a bad thing. He turned to see the rest of the crew had joined Paul outside.

  Lincoln and Freya must have appeared sometime in the last few minutes. Pippa and his mother ran over and gave him bouncing, bubbling hugs, topped off with high pitched squeals.

  Looking over their heads, Asher caught a wink from his dad. Having something his family supported him in wholeheartedly was a brand-new, overwhelming sensation.

  Sophie stood in the doorway wearing a huge smile that lit up her face… the brilliancy of her look struck him like an arrow to the heart. Denise and Pippa pulled away and continued their fussing as they returned to their party setup. More than anything, he wanted to pull Sophie against him and spin her in his arms. Maybe drag her upstairs to celebrate.

  ***

  Warmth filling her like hot chocolate with marshmallows on a blustery, January day, Sophie stood back and watched as Asher smiled so enthusiastically. Maybe it wasn’t so bad of a birthday after all. She’d come downstairs a few minutes ago in old jea
ns and a ratty t-shirt to find Pippa and Denise glued to the open window overlooking the deck. Asher and Paul were having one of those testosterone-overload, stiff-postured arguments.

  Freya and Lincoln had clearly just entered and were setting gifts on the entry table. Pippa shut everyone up with a glower and a wave of her arm. Rolling her eyes, Freya headed straight for Sophie and shook her head.

  “Birthday girl, get your butt straight back upstairs and make yourself presentable.” Smiling deviously, Freya turned Sophie by the shoulders and pointed her up to her bedroom, following right behind until they entered the bedroom.

  Pulling open the closet doors, the hinges squeaking in protest at her gusto, Freya flipped through the hanging items. “You have some cute clothes. I’m going to do some shopping in here later.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes playfully, enjoying having another girlfriend. “I don’t think any of it will fit you. You’re taller by at least two or three inches and have triple the boobs.”

  Grabbing out a pretty pink sundress that was girl-next-door sexy, Freya shoved it at her. “This.”

  “I love that one but it’s a little short, so I never wear it.” She held it in front of herself, demonstrating the mid-thigh length.

  “Today’s a perfect occasion. Asher will love it.” Freya winked knowingly.

  Sophie couldn’t hide her confusion. She tried speaking but her tongue was frozen in surprise; she didn’t even know where to start.

  “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re into each other. Pippa will come around.” Freya headed into the bathroom and pulled out Sophie’s makeup bag. Seeing the open door connecting to Asher’s bedroom, she turned and looked meaningfully at Sophie, “Naughty girl, are you sneaking through here at night?”

  Sophie snagged the makeup bag and dress out of Freya’s hands. “I like you, Freya. For now,” she shot her a teasing death-glare. “Now get out so I can change.”