by Kacey Shea
“My feeling exactly,” Ash mutters as he smacks the paint brush against the wood.
“Sorry.” I pick up my paint brush. “That was . . .” Inappropriate? Honest? I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for.
“Chase Matthews.” His mouth pulls in a tight line.
Crap. I’ve made things uncomfortable, and just when we were starting to get along. Maybe I can explain. “Yes. We used to date. But my guess is that you already know that.”
“Your name has come up a few times,” he mutters. Then he scoffs from the back of his throat.
What the fuck? Is he judging me?
Oh, right. The firehouse brotherhood. I’m sure they’ve had nothing but nice things to say about me. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Now Ash will go back and tell everyone at the station what a loser I am. If he hasn’t already. Fuck. I let my guard down for one second . . . “Sorry. He’s your boss, I assume? I’m sure you get along just fine. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. Your ex is a douchebag.”
I stop painting to study his expression for signs of teasing, sarcasm, or cruelty but find none. “Tell me how you really feel.” I smirk.
“He’s a fuckboy who thinks the world owes him one because he’s had adversity in his life.” Ash rolls his eyes and meets my stare. “News flash, he’s not the only one with problems. And he wouldn’t have made captain if it weren’t for his daddy’s position. He needs to grow the fuck up and own his shit. And stop being a womanizer.” Ash focuses on the wall and his brush strokes against the weathered grain. “A grown man proud of being nicknamed after Hugh Hefner? Complete fuckboy.”
I can’t help but smile at Ash’s rant. I hate that I ever dated Chase, and how much of myself I gave to him, but it’s nice to hear from a man’s perspective that Chase isn’t all he’s cracked up to be. Ash glances over and grins back. His green eyes sparkle from where the light sneaks beneath the brim of his hat.
He nods to the open paint can. “I think we may need to go back and get another gallon. This is the last one.” Ash drags the ladder over from one side of the shed and climbs up.
I step back and appraise our work. He’s right, I think. We still have the eaves and one short side to paint. The structure looks tiny compared to the house, but painting stroke by stroke has proved it to be much larger than it seems. I’m glad to have Ash’s help, though I was wary at first, because this project would have taken me a good month on my own. Maybe longer with weather, and here we have the thing almost complete in one weekend. I’m determined to clean up this yard before the first frost hits. That way, when spring comes, the garden will be beautiful.
“You know, I’ve never seen you without a hat.” I glance over and try not to stare as Ash balances on the third step of the ladder and reaches under the eaves of the small structure. His muscles strain and bulge with each stroke of the brush. The black ink dances against his tan skin in the sunlight and his tattoos almost look alive. I glance away.
Ash ignores my comment. But it’s true. I’ve never seen the man without a ball cap or fire helmet and now I really want to. “It’s always the fire station or the Padres and I can’t stand either,” I say aloud. Today he has on the county issued logo, the word fire stitched in white threads against the navy blue.
“I like my teams.”
“I’m sure you do, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Why don’t you go hatless, Ash?” I grin up at him. “Hiding something?” I step closer and dip my brush into the can of thick gooey red and trail it over the shed. The paint covers the worn boards so they appear new again.
“Maybe my self-respect.”
“Is that where you keep it?” I laugh. “I was thinking more along the line of a bald spot or receding hairline.”
“Jesus, Callie? You think I’m ancient, don’t you?” He laughs, then climbs down to scoot the ladder over another yard.
“You are thirty. Same difference,” I quip. Yesterday we swapped ages and I’ve been giving him shit since. He only just turned thirty, which would have been my guess, but he was surprised to learn I’m only twenty-two. He said I seemed mature for my age, which I hope isn’t code for lame and uncool.
“Take it back, Gordon,” he demands with a smile.
“Not a chance, Black,” I sass.
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ash whispers in my ear as wetness covers my left arm.
“Wha—” How did he get so close, so fast, without me noticing.
Ash chuckles and I spin to face him. He dabs his finger through the paint he just smeared down my arm. Goosebumps cover my skin and my face pulls into a scowl as he touches my nose.
“You got a little on your face.” His lips pull up at the corners and his hazel eyes dance.
“Ya think?” I glare back.
He erupts in laughter, leans over, and clutches his stomach. Now’s my only shot. The man is like a ninja but he’s not expecting me so I take my brush and swipe it over the brim of his goddamn fire hat.
“The fuck? Callie!” He straightens and whips the hat off to examine the damage. His brows pull to a tight frown.
A giggle slips through my lips, and I don’t know why, but seeing that holier than thou fire emblem covered in smeared wet paint, well, it fills me with glee. It might be vindictive, but my animosity isn’t aimed toward Ash, more like the establishment of firemen everywhere. I laugh from the very pit of my belly. So much that tears stream down my face.
Ash’s chin lifts and he tosses the hat in the grass. He shakes his head as his eyes meet mine. “I can’t believe you ruined my hat!” He steps toward me with a predatory intensity. Oh, shit. I step back, matching his paces to keep my distance. With his frown still in place, his lips twitch as he fights the urge to smile.
“You painted me!” I point at my arm and his lips finally give in to a grin. “Eye for an eye. Fair is square.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get it.”
At his warning I spin and launch full speed toward Kiki’s deck. His footsteps hit the earth behind me. He’s hot on my trail. I barrel up the stairs as quickly as I can and fight the urge to laugh lest it slow me down. A few giggles escape despite my best effort. My hand hits the sliding glass door just as his arms wrap around my waist.
“Gotcha!” he says, and it’s as if he knows exactly where to go when his fingers touch the most ticklish spots on my ribs.
“No! No! Please, no!” I cry between hoots. Oh, fuck. I can’t stop laughing. His breath is at my ear as he chuckles along.
“Damn, you’re ticklish, Callie.”
“Please stop!” I shriek.
The slide of the glass door steals our attention. Kiki’s frowning face assesses us as Ash releases me and steps away. Like two children busted, we turn on each other.
“He started it!”
“She destroyed my hat!” We point at the other.
“Enough!” Kiki effectively halts our argument. “Doesn’t matter who started it, neither one of you is coming in here looking like that. And you can’t leave out wet paint! Go clean up and I’ll bring out some coffee . . . and a few towels.” She shakes her head, slams the door, and disappears into the house. Even Silas the cat seems to judge us with his pointed glare through the glass.
I stare at Ash. He looks at me with a sheepish smile. It’s then I notice.
“Your ears,” I say softly.
His hands go up to cover them. His brown hair is neither bald nor receding, though his ears stick out away from his head in an exaggerated manner. I’ve never noticed it before because of the way he wears his hat. He must tuck them inside. On some people it’d look funny but on Ash those big ears are somehow endearing. I don’t know why, but they give his face character, and maybe it’s that he’s not perfect. It’s cute. I don’t dare tell him that, though. Most guys don’t appreciate cute. His gaze follows me closely but I can’t read his thoughts. Those hazel irises are now more amber than green.
I step forward, reach out, and cover his hands with
mine to gently pull them away from his head. “Don’t cover them up. I like them. They suit you.”
His lips pull up on one side. I reach back up and give both earlobes a playful tug. “Come on, let’s go clean up. You heard the warden.”
We walk down the steps and back to our job. I pick up the scattered brushes and Ash fills a bucket with water to soak them.
“She’s awfully bossy for someone getting free labor,” he says.
“A little, yeah.”
“You’re not gonna call me Dumbo? Poke fun at my ears? I won’t blame you if you do. I’m used to it by now.” He shuts off the water.
“No. I think I’ll stick with the girl insults, Ashley.” I drop a paint-caked brush into the waiting bucket.
“I appreciate that.” He glances up with a grin.
“You’re welcome.” I release a laugh followed by a snort but I don’t even care. “See. I’m not such bad company after all.”
“Never thought you were.”
The tandem slap, slide, and glide of our paint brushes provide the background track to our work, along with the occasional bird chirp. Kiki brings out the promised cups of coffee along with towels. I try not to ogle when Ash deserts his tee and opts to work shirtless while Kiki throws his paint splattered shirt in the laundry. She asks for his pants, too, making him blush and I let loose a snicker. God, I love that woman.
I continue to work in my paint splattered clothes. My left arm appears as though I attempted to make a poor quality horror film, with some of the paint stubbornly sticking in place. I hope it comes off in the shower tonight.
We work until we run out of paint and then head over to the hardware store.
“Ash,” I say while waiting on the employee to mix our order.
“Yeah, Callie?”
“You said you’ve only been here a week, right?” I realize after spending two days together I don’t know much about him.
“Almost two now.” He smiles.
“Did you move from far away or transfer from another station?” At my question the open smile on his face falters a quick second before he plants it firmly back in place.
“County. I transferred from up north.”
“How far north? Like Hanover County?”
“Fairfax County. Just outside of DC.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a big move.”
He nods and studies the display of paint samples, and picks up a few pamphlets to flip through the colors.
“So, what inspired the change? Do you have friends or family here?”
“No, they’re all up north,” he responds without a glance.
Okay. Really? So not fair. He knows so much about me, mostly because of my inability to be flame resistant, but still. He’s being so closed lipped.
“So you just woke up one day and thought, I’m going to move hours away, and now here you are?”
He finally looks up. His eyes study my face a moment before his nose scrunches up and lips pull to a wry grin. “Sometimes life sucks really hard. I needed a change. A clean slate. Does that make sense?” He cocks his head to the side but his gaze never leaves my face.
“Um, yeah. I think I can understand.” I almost laugh. “And aren’t you so glad you did? You would have never met me.” I smirk.
“Order for Gordon!” the employee shouts and we abandon our paint sample conversation to pick up the gallon container. The ring of my phone sings from my purse as I retrieve my credit card to pay for our purchase. Jill’s name flashes across the screen so I answer and cradle it with my left ear.
“Hey, Jill.”
“’Sup, bitch!” She answers with the street cred of a nineties rapper. Man, am I thankful I didn’t put her on speaker. Ash passes the employee cash for the total before I can hand him my card. I frown at him and shake my head. Ash smirks, takes the receipt and can, and leaves the store without a backward glance.
“What’s up, Jill? You’re not drunk, are you?” I jog to catch up with Ash.
“Just high on life!” She laughs into the phone.
“You didn’t have to do that!” I whisper shout.
“Do what?” Jill says in my ear.
Ash shrugs. “I wanted to.”
“Was that a man’s voice?” Jill shouts in my ear and I roll my eyes. Ash unlocks the car doors with his key fob, the sad toot barely disturbs the air, and then he opens the door for me.
“It’s Ashley,” I slide into the passenger seat. He feigns hurt at my comment and hands me the paint, then shuts my door to jog around to his side.
“Who’s Ashley? Wait. I’m confused,” Jill says.
“A friend?” I don’t know why I say it more like a question. I guess we’re friends. I don’t know what else we would be unless “suckers for free labor” is a relationship title.
“Awesome sauce. We’re meeting at Benny’s tonight. You have to come. And bring the new chick.” I laugh and I’m about to correct her, that Ash is not a girl, when she mistakes my amusement for something else. “Oh, hell no! You’re not bailing on us for another woman. No way, sister. We’ve been through thick and thin. I don’t care how pretty, or popular, or fucking fun this girl is, she’s not replacing us!”
I’m full on laughing now, as Ash studies me from the corner of his gaze with hilarity written on his face.
“Fuck, Callie! Stop laughing!” Jill shouts.
“I’m sorry. She is pretty, though.” I apologize and clear my throat. “Hold on a sec.” I pull the phone away from my ear and wait until I catch Ash’s attention at a stop sign. “Would you like to come to dinner tonight with my friends, Ashley?” My voice oozes sweetness and charm.
His lips pull up at the corner before he answers. “Only if you don’t call me that.”
I smile a wicked grin and move the phone back up to the ear. “We’ll be there. Ashley can’t wait to meet you.”
“Fuck, she better be a cool chick, Callie. I don’t have the patience for more bitchy women tonight. See you at seven!”
“Bye, Jill.” I end the call.
“What was that about?” Ash asks as we pull up to Kiki’s curb.
“Oh, you’ll see soon enough.” I chuckle to myself. “We’re meeting them at seven.”
“Why do I feel as if I’m falling into a trap?” he says as we exit the car. I pull out the paint can but he takes it from me.
“Maybe you are,” I tease. He’s not. My friends will love him, I’m sure. That he’s attractive will help, but something tells me Ash can hold his own around my crazy girlfriends.
I hate girl talk.
Especially when they’re all ganging up on me like this. And they’ve recruited Ash into the mix, as though he’s one of us! I guess with a girl’s name it works. Earlier when Jill called I felt obligated to invite him along. I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea, but now with him here joining sides with my friends I wonder if that was a mistake.
Ash nurses a water and his smirk flashes beneath the brim of his Padres ball cap.
Alicia sits to his right picking at what’s left of her nachos. Between bites she continues the conversation. “I agree with Jill. Callie, you need to get laid.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.” Jill laughs.
“But that’s what will ultimately happen if she starts dating again,” Alicia argues.
“I’m sitting right here.” I roll my eyes as they continue to discuss me as if I’m not.
“Ash, what do you think?”
We all stare as he smirks at Alicia. He rubs the bill of his hat twice. “Hmm . . .” He bites his lip and waggles his brows across the table with a grin. “I think there are lots of guys who would love to date Callie.”
“See!” Jill says.
“And there are lots who want to fuck her, too!” Alicia triggers more laughter.
“That doesn’t mean I want to hook up with them!” I say.
“Or that they deserve you,” Ash adds.
“Aw, that’s like the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
My tone drips with both sweetness and sarcasm as Ash’s smile grows wide.
Jill takes a long pull of her amber ale and nods toward the bar. “Okay, so back to my idea. What about him?”
I’m on my second rum and Coke, but it’s not enough alcohol to deal with these idiots pointing out prospective dates. This is the tenth guy they’ve suggested I approach. But I don’t want to date. I’m not ready. And I think maybe they know that and they’re fucking with me for laughs.
“He’s got a man bun,” I deadpan.
“It’s hot.” Alicia licks her lips.
“I can’t date someone who might jack my hair products. I can’t have that confusion in my life.”
Ash snickers. “Oh, come on, Callie. It could be fun. You could braid each other’s hair.”
“Yes!” Jill shouts. “Ashley understands!”
“Please stop calling me Ashley. It’s just Ash,” he says all cool. I just grin.
“What? You don’t like your name?” Jill leans back in her seat and twirls her straw through her drink. “Ashley is so different for a man’s name. I like it. Besides, it’ll make my boyfriend less jealous when I name drop who I was hanging out with tonight.”
My attention is piqued. “Wait a hot second! Cam’s been upgraded to boyfriend? When did this happen?”
Ash’s eyes widen and twinkle with amusement. “You’re with Cam from Station Twenty-two? Your plan might not work so well. Cam did my new hire orientation a few weeks ago so he knows my full name. Besides, his brother is my supervisor,” Ash explains and Jill pouts.
“But back to the juicy stuff. Cam? Boyfriend? When? How?” I splutter.
Jill blows out a breath and rolls her eyes. “Fuck, I don’t know . . . We were fucking, as we do, and he said, ‘You better fucking be my girl,’ and then I said yes, though really it was because he was hitting it hard and I was gonna come . . . then he said yes and we both orgasmed. So, now we’re exclusive.” She shrugs.
Alicia fans her face with a napkin and Ash looks shocked, and maybe a little embarrassed. Oh, Jilly. Once she’s comfortable she doesn’t have much filter, even more so after a drink or two.