As the wedding party and associated families settled and found their own chill-spaces, Asher broke the silence, his deep voice soothing her more than the crisp wine ever could. “Tell me about your mom. Colette, right?” Asher rested his beer in his hand at his side and watched for Sophie’s reaction, clearly hoping he’d chosen a safe topic, because he was genuinely interested.
No one had asked her that in a really, really long time. “She was incredible. Dad was in the military and died in combat when I was in kindergarten. Tough as nails, she made sure I could handle anything that came my way. That I was never the helpless damsel.”
“After meeting Yvette, I figured your mom must have been something special. You turned out pretty fantastic despite that witch.” He flashed her a heart-wrenching smile, one side of his mouth turned up adorably, his eyes warm as honey.
“She really was. I never wanted for anything. We had plenty of money, as she had grown up well off. Didn’t blow through her inheritance like Yvette had. But that’s not what I mean. I never wanted for love or attention. We had a sweet little house right down to the white picket fence. I was on whatever team I wanted to join. We travelled a lot.”
Sophie was glad he’d asked. Few did, fearing she wouldn’t want to reminisce over painful memories. It was hard for a long time, but she still missed her mom as much today as the day she died. Speaking of her now made her feel connected.
“What was your favorite place you and she travelled to?”
“Here, actually. We did a little tour of the Pacific Northwest. Stayed at little inns around the Puget Sound, the Olympics along the coast, the Cascades.” They’d about worn through their hiking boots on that trip.
“What did she die of?” His expression mournful, brow heavy with regret, she felt him sharing her pain, a deep empathy she wasn’t sure others knew he was capable of.
“Cancer. An aggressive lymphoma.” Sophie’s heart still ached recalling the day her mom had given her the news. She’d been tired for a few weeks, already losing weight before she realized something was wrong. Being a single mom, she was used to running on fatigue.
“I’m so sorry. I hate to ask, but I’m liking having you around; was it something that could be hereditary?”
She smiled, understanding his concern. Her mother had asked that almost immediately; it had worried her until the oncologist had reassured her. “No. Just one of those things.”
Without regard for the rest of the room, he took her hand in his. Sophie needed the contact. She hated keeping this secret from her best friend. From Paul and Denise. Her friends.
Eyes locked on to each other, they stilled for longer than they should. Visiting quietly in their private corner, they nearly forgot the rest of the party existed.
Grady came to the rescue. “You know, it’ll make it harder to keep this quiet if you two blow it before you break the news to Pippa.” He raised an eyebrow at the indiscreet couple.
Remembering where they were, Sophie pulled her hand out of Asher’s and sat up a bit in the cushy sofa. “Thanks, Grady. I hate lying to Pippa. Love her to death, but she’s a little scary right now.”
Raising his eyebrows, he nodded. “Lincoln’s going nuts trying to keep her sane. I find I’m inspired to consider eloping when my time comes. Even if I found a partner that could handle it, I don’t think I could handle my mother.”
Sophie had to agree, although something about getting married in such a beautiful spot was pretty tempting. Her parents had been married in a courthouse and apparently had lived quite happily together, never having loved each other any less for lack of a big wedding. Colette’s parents hadn’t exactly been thrilled about their nineteen-year-old daughter marrying an enlisted guy in the army. Despite their initial misgivings about the marriage, they came around and had been doting grandparents, for the few years that she had them.
“Your mother can’t be half as bad as my aunt,” she goaded, suddenly wanting to know more.
He took a big gulp of beer, rolling his eyes deep in his skull. “Maybe, maybe not. She’s just rich and entitled. Me, being me, she enjoys criticizing like it’s a hobby.”
Chuckling, Sophie couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Grady were anything less than perfect. Before she could call him on it, Asher sat up in his seat and raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? You’re a mother’s dream. Hell, my parents know I’m a screw up.”
“Not my mother. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll get to meet her eventually. Not that she would stoop to using a local accounting service or call the police when she could call in her own team of Seattle bodyguards if needed.” He shrugged and toasted the air. “Enough about dear old Patricia. What’s the deal with your aunt?”
Immediately defensive, Sophie tried to hide her reaction. No good ever came from questions about Yvette. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing good. Sophie, I’ve heard you and Pippa talking about her, as well as a few rumors here and there. I know she’s a pretty terrible person.”
Rolling her eyes, Sophie nodded, “That about sums it up.”
Turning into full lawyer-mode, Grady wore his serious face. “There are some pretty vile stories floating around the party. Maybe even around town. Mostly about how you abandoned your feeble, benevolent aunt and left her destitute.”
Sophie smiled through threatening tears of boiling hot rage and resentment. Her fists balled up tight, nearly crushing the wineglass she’d forgotten she held. “Oh, is that all? She threatened worse.”
Asher covered her fist with his hand in attempt to comfort her, but it would take a whole lot more than empathy right now.
Voice harsh, Grady was pissed on her behalf. “How much worse?”
Asher went to speak up, but Sophie wouldn’t let him. She didn’t want to let this get out of control, as things so quickly could with Yvette. Better to let it go, reduce the blast zone when things got too hot.
“I can handle it.” Realizing her tone was a bit harsh and not helping her case, she added a cursory, “Thanks though.”
Making meaningful eye contact across her, she knew Grady and Asher weren’t going to take her objections seriously. Plotting how to defend her without her consent. She sort of appreciated that they cared so much, but more, she feared their help might make things worse. She’d been on her own when it came to Yvette for too long… for a very good reason, and she couldn’t help but fear the repercussions if she actively resisted Yvette.
“Look, if she’s threatening you, you may have legal rights. Please, let me help if this gets out of hand.” Grady tensed his jaw, his eyes full of hatred on her behalf.
“I will. Really. Thanks, Grady.” She mustered up an appreciative smile and a nod.
Lincoln’s father hollered from the massive dining table set to host the entire party, “Alright, folks. Come and get it.” Smiling, happy guests descended hungrily on the table.
For now, Sophie relaxed a bit. The rest of dinner went by relatively uneventfully. Fortunately, most everyone knew not to mention her dear old Auntie Yvette around her.
17
By ten that night, the household was finally quieting down. T minus forty-two hours until I-Do’s. Sophie got ready for bed then went straight to Asher’s room. Despite their exhaustion from a trying day, they found comfort in each other’s arms.
They’d had to be careful in case his mom decided to clean his bedroom again. A habit she was slowly starting to step away from as she silently, lovingly gave her son a little shove out the door. Never leaving a trace, Sophie even adjusted her pillow and made her side of the bed before leaving it each morning.
Sated from an intense, passionate bit of not-sex, Asher laid awake, holding Sophie in his arms. Exhausted as they both were, she was already falling deeply into dreamland. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her up tight against him.
He wasn’t falling asleep so easily. How had this happened? From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, all snarky and playful in his garage, he’d been hooked. Correcting himself, h
e realized it had started a lot sooner. A sucker for her untamed, indecisive hair, that lush pink smile, and those stormy gray eyes that revealed the secrets her sweet expressions masked, he’d tanked when he first saw that graduation picture on the mantle.
He’d been with more than his share of bed partners, but none had even tempted him to settle down. Somehow, before they’d even met, he’d known.
Just as his thoughts were drifting into nonsensical imaginings as sleep finally enveloped him, a shrill series of chirps from his phone jolted him awake. Sophie stirred beside him but didn’t open her eyes.
Sliding the answer button, he answered the unknown number. “Yeah?” He must have been more deeply in sleep than he realized, his voice was full of gravel.
“Jack’s in the ICU.” The voice was terse, gruff.
“Zane? Where are you?” Zane was due to get out of the navy any day now, last he’d heard. Not that he’d heard much since he’d been home. Zane and Jack had been his best friends in the navy, his only friends, really, for years.
“San Diego. I was listed as Jack’s emergency contact.”
Heart thundering in his chest, Asher slipped out of bed and pulled on the closest pair of sweatpants. Found them crumpled on the ground now that he was generally stuck doing his own laundry lately. “Is he okay?” Juggling the phone, he snuck into the bathroom, so he didn’t risk waking Sophie.
“Fuck no, man. He’s in the ICU. On a ventilator and god knows what other shit they have him hooked up to. Sepsis; bacteria in his blood or some shit like that.” Zane’s voice was as croaky as his own.
Asher froze, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. Jack had been seriously injured in the op that had taken a good chunk of their team. Asher and Zane had left the battle with hardly a scuffed knee between them and a bitter aftertaste of survivor’s guilt.
Not Jack; he’d never walked again.
“What hospital?”
Zane gave him the information. “Come quick man, I don’t think he has much time left.”
“I’ll be on the first flight out.” Fuck. Not Jack.
Until the injury, he’d been the heart and soul of the team. Both the obnoxious, impish little brother and the got-your-back buddy. It had been devastating for Asher, but Zane was a damn mess afterwards.
Asher had at least known he was getting out soon and had a family to go home to, so he’d stayed afloat on the hope of distance from the mess. Zane didn’t have much else in his life.
They should be as dead or amputated or concussed as the others, but Asher had seen someone moving down the street and had taken Zane to investigate. The impulsive decision had spared the two of them, but those left behind weren’t so lucky. Would he ever be able to stop reliving it?
Hanging up the phone, Asher moved back into the dark bedroom and sat on the side of the bed. Searching his phone, it took only minutes to book a flight. Next Seattle to San Diego left at 0400, best he could do. Going to be a long fucking night.
Restless, no way he was getting back to sleep just yet, he slipped out of the room. Tiptoeing down the stairs, he headed for the kitchen to grab a drink.
Sniffling from the moonlit living room caught him off-guard. “Pippa?”
A wet voice answered, “Nothing. I’m fine.” She stood from the couch and wiped her eyes, looking ridiculous, pretending all was well as she cried alone in a darkened room, when the rest of the house was asleep.
“I think you may need a drink as badly as I do.” He continued on his mission for liquor. Opening the pantry, he pulled out a dusty bottle of Jameson.
Pouring each of them a finger, or two, of whiskey, he brought both glasses to the living room. Pippa didn’t argue when he handed her the glass, but she made a face as she hesitantly nursed the strong drink.
“What’s up, Pip?” Worrying about Jack… And Zane, for that matter, wasn’t going to help anyone right now. He was actually grateful for the distraction, but admittedly felt a little guilty that his relief was at his sister’s expense.
“Am I a total nutcase?” She sniffled again but washed the threatening return of weeping down with another sip of whiskey. Grimacing, she swallowed the liquid fire.
He managed a sympathetic smile. “Not usually.” He stared at his own glass, debating whether it would actually help or just make things worse.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy around this whole wedding business. It doesn’t even matter, that’s what I can’t figure out. I love Lincoln, he loves me, so why do I care so much about the stupid party to make it official?” She stared out the window at the bright moon.
“For one, it’s a big damn party that’s going to be amazing. For another thing, this is a lot to take on and you’ve shouldered most of it. You have always been single-minded.” He quickly added, “In a good way. That’s why you always seemed to be able to do the right thing.”
“I don’t always do the right thing.” She rolled her eyes and snorted indelicately.
“Sure about that? You went to college, graduated on time, took a break to get some experience in the field, to ensure you knew for sure you wanted to be a teacher, then arranged your life to attend grad school near each your high school sweetheart. Right on schedule you’re getting married, probably starting a family soon. You have a job lined up already, doing what you always wanted.”
All their lives, she’d seen what she wanted and meticulously planned so things panned out exactly as she envisioned. Dove in with everything she had. Didn’t dick around with indecision and discontent like he did, acting on impulse and relying too heavily on luck.
She nodded with a watery smile. “I do like to plan.” Raising her glass, she saluted him mockingly.
Biting his lip, he hid his agreement. “And you like things to go your way. Hence, wedding crazies. That’s a lot of variables to ensure go your way.”
“I’m sorry I try to control your actions and behaviors.” That was out of nowhere.
Had she always realized she did it to him? Bossy and overbearing sister from day one? Hell, she’d hardly been able to talk, and she’d grab his hand and drag him to the kitchen so he could climb up and steal a cookie from the jar for her.
Nudging her shoulder with his companionably, he didn’t ask when or how she’d realized it. “You and Dad have a lot in common. You know what’s best for others and strive to make them realize it too.” He paused, but knew it was time, so he added, “Even when you’re wrong.”
She smiled at that. “Sadly, that is true.” Downing the last of her whiskey, she reached for his untouched glass to steal the rest.
Pulling his glass away, he took a long pull and then set it out of reach of them both. “Sometimes I know what’s best for you, too.”
Finally realizing it was the middle of the night and her brother had come seeking a rare hit of liquor, she puzzled at him, “Why are you up at this hour?”
Now would have been a perfect time to bring up Sophie, but he couldn’t handle the possibility of an argument. Not when he had other priorities tonight. “I’m sorry, Pip, but I have to fly to San Diego in the morning.”
Sitting bolt upright, she stared at him as if he’d just told her he was wanted for stealing a herd of cows. “Why?” she managed to ask as calmly as possible, her breaths quickly becoming shallow and rapid. Well, maybe it wasn’t the best time to bring up Sophie after all. Good thing he hadn’t.
“Did I ever mention how I got out shortly after a fucking awful mission? You know Jack, my buddy that was hurt just before I got out?” His chest clenched as he realized he may not have even mentioned his friend.
No wonder Pippa didn’t trust him, he never showed her who he was. Never opened up to her. Let her think he was an uncaring asshole, living for his own hedonism.
She stared at him, knowing his news wasn’t going to help her out at all. Still, he could see the empathy starting to seep through.
He continued, “He’s in the ICU. Sepsis. I just hope he makes it until I get there.”
At last
, here was his sweet sister. Thankfully. Her face went long with grief on his behalf. “Oh, Ash, I’m so sorry. What time does your flight leave?”
“0400. I already booked a return flight so I can be back before the wedding. I’m sorry I won’t be there to help with setup. Going to be a bit of a photo finish as it is.” He flashed her a regretful smile.
Committed now, she searched around the room as if looking for supplies for his journey. She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make it work, whatever you need. Why don’t you borrow my car?”
He didn’t want to think about why he couldn’t take his truck right now. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. Now, Lincoln is probably upstairs wondering if you’re ever coming to bed. You go to sleep. I’m going to catch a few hours rack time before heading to the airport.”
***
The drive was miserable. Dark, sleepy, painfully long. Fortunately, not many folks on the road at this hour. He drove Pippa’s Corolla a smidge over the speed limit, wanting to grab another cup of coffee at the airport before his flight left. If anything was even open yet.
Sophie woke when his alarm had gone off at 0130 in the damn morning. She’d slept through the call from Zane, but somehow, she knew something was wrong. She didn’t question the alarm or try to drag him back to bed like she usually did. He filled her in as he rubbed the fog of fitful, inadequate sleep from his eyes.
She’d been amazing. While he took a quick shower, she’d taken care of him. Made him a massive cup of coffee. Packed him a backpack with a change of clothes, phone charger, basic toiletries, and some protein bars, knowing he wouldn’t stop to eat on his own.
Looking adorably rumpled in his t-shirt that ended just above her mid-thigh, she finished packaging a breakfast sandwich she’d thrown together for him. “Don’t worry about at thing. I’ll bring your tux along to The Barn so you can come straight there. I-5 traffic should be okay since it will be a weekend, but who knows.”
All the Days After Page 19