by Amy Patrick
The party guests grabbed buckets and got to work, moving through the grove and scooping fallen pecans from the ground. A few decided to forego the crowded back yard and headed around the house toward the front. That was Asher’s strategy.
He grabbed my hand and two buckets. “Come on. I think the ones from the front yard taste better.”
We strolled among the trees as a warm breeze blew the leaves over our heads. After dropping a few handfuls of pecans into my bucket I decided to crack one and taste it.
“I’ve never had a pecan that didn’t come from the grocery store already shelled.”
Asher gave me a mock-offended glare. “Then you haven’t lived. We’ve got to fix that immediately.”
I stepped on one of the nuts, cracking the shell under my shoe then picked it up to extract what was left of the crushed pecan inside. It was a challenge. Tiny bits of shell were imbedded into the nut meat.
Asher brushed it from my hand. “What are you doing? You mangled that poor pecan. Watch and learn, padawan.”
He placed two pecans in his palm, closed his fingers, and squeezed. A cracking noise emanated from inside his fist. When he opened it, both pecan shells were open. “Ta da.” He smiled.
I plucked one of them from his hand and pulled a perfectly intact pecan half from the shell, popping it into my mouth. I couldn’t believe how plump and juicy it was. I smiled at Asher.
“You are so right about these front yard pecans. Let’s get them all before anybody else figures it out.”
He laughed, and we ran around, gathering as many as we could as fast as we could. When our buckets were both overflowing, he took my hand and led me to a tree swing suspended from one of the thick, high branches.
“Here, I’ll push you.” He pulled the swing seat back. “You deserve a break after your Olympic pecan picking performance.”
I gave him a sassy side glance and sat in the swing. “Beginner’s luck.”
Asher pulled the ropes back and let them go, sending me gliding forward. My belly did a pleasant swoop I hadn’t felt since swinging as a child.
“No, you’re a natural,” he said. “You’re a born pecan picker.”
I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “This is a really fun day.”
“Oh, you haven’t even seen fun yet.” His tone held a teasing warning. When the momentum carried me back toward him, he placed his hands on my upper hips and gave a firm push, sending the swing rocketing forward again.
I squealed as I sailed up, up toward the blue sky and green leaves and fell back again to feel Asher’s big hands around my waist once more, propelling me for another skyward ride.
The experience brought back joyful memories of swinging in my backyard in California with my dad as he pushed me and dared me to go higher and higher, to conquer my fear of falling and embrace the freedom of being slightly out of control. When I thought about it, that’s how I always felt with Asher, out of control, yet also safe, somehow.
The day ended with a casual outdoor dinner of steaming chili and honey-buttered cornbread and naturally, pecan pie. The conversation around the picnic tables was loud and good-natured. I met Asher’s extensive network of aunts and uncles and cousins and family friends.
Overall, they were a remarkable family—not because of what they’d accomplished or what they owned, but because of the way they loved and accepted each other. It was a whole new thing in my experience.
After the last of the guests had driven away with their pecan hauls, Asher walked me out to the carriage house where my guest room was located. It was a separate building from the main house, but no less inviting. Sided in white clapboard, it had three old fashioned looking garage doors across the front with a dormered window above each one. The windows were flanked by black shutters, and each had a window box planter filled with fall blooms. To one side was a red brick chimney, and near it, a ground floor entrance to the apartment above the garage.
The sun had set, and the sounds of singing frogs and whirring cicadas filled the night air. At the door, Asher stopped and turned me to face him, stroking underneath my chin with the side of his finger. “I’m not gonna come up because if I do, I won’t want to leave. And there’s no way my mom will miss it if I don’t happen to be in my bed tonight—makes me wish I’d already moved into this place.”
Blushing at his obvious reference to his desire for me, I avoided the subject entirely. “This is going to be yours?”
“Yeah—the plan was I’d move out here until I got ready to build my own house up on that hill I showed you. It’s an apartment with a full kitchen, a nice bathroom, fireplace and all. I guess I was putting off moving my stuff over here because it would have seemed like some kind of commitment to stay on the farm. Until I met you, I wasn’t ready to do that.”
“But now you want to?”
He nodded and leaned in for a soft kiss. “I do. If you’re gonna be here, too.” He hesitated, staring directly into my eyes. His held some clouds, something unsettled.
“Ava—I think you probably guessed this already since I drove all over Kingdom Come to go get you and bring you back here, but I care about you. A lot. I want you to know that. Now I know you’ve had some trouble in your past, and you don’t like to talk about it. But over there in that house are the two other people I care about most in this world. And I have to make sure I do right by them. They love you.” He hesitated a minute. “I love you...”
“You do?”
“Yes. I do. I’m completely, totally, one hundred percent in love with you. Now will you let me finish?”
“Um, yes. Okay.” His shocking statement had my mind spinning so fast I wasn’t sure I’d be able to comprehend anything else he had to say.
“You fit right in here, and I can easily see bringing you into our family and keeping you here forever, but... you’ve got a lot of secrets.”
That’s when my heart seized up and stopped beating. Of course he was worried about my evasiveness and mysterious past—he’d be a fool not to be concerned. He wanted answers, and I couldn’t blame him. My hopes of hiding my shameful past from him were dashed. But how could I tell him the truth? Heart thrashing inside my chest, I stayed quiet as he continued.
“After what you said to me last night outside Ryann’s house, the way you seemed to be almost ordering me to forget you like some kind of hypnotist or something, I think there might be more to your secrets than I realized.”
I broke free from his arms and started for the driveway, overcome by panic. “I’ll go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—for everything.”
Asher’s hand caught my shoulder and stopped me. He stepped in front of me, blocking my retreat. “Whoa there. I tell you I’m in love with you and you’re ready to bolt? I don’t think so. You’re stuck with me now, city girl. What I’m saying is—I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I didn’t even know it was possible. And I want you—no matter what the truth of the situation is. But I do need the truth. I’m ready to commit to this thing for the long haul. But I need the same from you. I need you to let me know you for real—all of you. I need you to trust me enough to be honest with me, or this is not going to work out. Do you think you can do that?”
I stared at him a long moment before dropping my gaze to the paver stones and his big boots bracketing my feet between them. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I’m scared.”
“’Course you are,” he said. “It’s scary to make yourself vulnerable to somebody. Don’t you think I was scared to tell you I love you? I’ve been screaming it inside my head for the past three days, but I didn’t know if I’d ever get up the guts to say it.”
“This is different,” I said. “What I have to say would change everything. It will make you see me differently. You might even change your mind about how you feel.”
His fingers gripped my upper arms. “Nothing will change the way I feel about you—that’s a promise.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know that.”
I was so tor
n. I knew exactly where he was coming from. He was saying basically the same things to me that I’d said to Culley. How could a relationship have any chance of survival without honesty? But how could I be honest about myself, about my past—my very existence for God’s sake—without causing Asher to hate me or freak out and run the other way?
“Can I... can I have some time to think about it?” I asked.
“Of course.” Asher wrapped an arm around my shoulders and walked me back to the carriage house door. “And while you’re thinking about it, remember this.”
He dipped his head and kissed me, so sweetly, so deeply, with so much passion I nearly forgot the past myself.
“All right, city girl. You get some sleep. In the morning, we’ll see about getting you that rental car and maybe put you to work—show you what being a farm girl is like.”
I nodded. “That sounds good.”
Then I opened the door and climbed the stairs to the apartment, where I’d either spend the night... or pack up my things and leave this little piece of paradise, once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two of a Kind
I couldn’t say how many times during the night I changed my mind.
I tossed and turned in the large bed, despite its comfort. On one hand, there was the Elven obligation to keep the secret. On the other, Asher. On one hand, I’d be risking a lot by telling him the truth—he could laugh at me and think I was crazy, or he could believe me and be afraid of me or disgusted by the things I’d done instead of loving me. On the other hand—Asher—and his very legitimate desire to actually know the person he was committing his life to.
When the sun rose in the morning, I was still awake. And I was still there.
I would tell him. I would tell him everything—who I was, what I’d done, what Audun and Culley had done, and what they planned to do, about the danger to the human population. I would put all my cards on the table and see if Asher could handle the ones he’d been given. I loved him. He said he loved me. He deserved a chance to prove it.
I got up and showered, dressed, and nervously made my way down the stairs to go to the main house. When I opened the carriage house door, I heard shouting.
It was my name. Someone was shouting my name. “Ava!”
It was a male voice, and assuming it was Asher’s, I broke into a run, calling his name in response.
And then I heard the voice in my head.
Ava, it’s me.
My feet stopped dead in their tracks. My eyes scanned the surroundings searching for him. There at the end of the driveway was Culley’s rented Jaguar.
He wasn’t in the car but standing in the street, pitched forward with his hands on his knees as if he’d run a marathon and was fighting for breath at the finish line. My heart clenched into a tight ball. He’d found me. He’d found Asher’s house.
Just as I’d always feared, I’d brought danger to Asher, and now to his family as well. Had Audun sent Culley to kill me or just to bring me back? And why had Culley stopped there? Why hadn’t he driven up to the house and boldly announced himself as I would have expected him to?
What are you doing here? I asked him.
I need to talk to you.
Right.
Honestly. I only want to talk. No one knows I’m here. No one even knows about your little human pet, so you don’t have to worry about him. This is about me and you. I couldn’t let things end the way they did in New York—not without telling you everything.
It’s a little late for that.
Please, Ava. I drove all night. He straightened to standing but then staggered to the side and nearly fell over, looking drunk.
What is the matter with you? I asked, taking a step in his direction down the drive.
I don’t know. I feel sick.
Was he faking? Was it a trick to get me away from the house? I stopped and glanced over at the front door, the windows with yellow light glowing inside. I didn’t want Asher’s mom or Grandpa to see Culley and worry. I didn’t want anyone getting caught in the crossfire of whatever was going on between us—especially if Culley was here on Audun’s behalf.
Jogging down the drive toward the street, I prayed Asher had slept in and didn’t happen to open his window to take in the morning view. As I reached Culley’s car I noticed the engine was still running, the door standing ajar. He still stood in the street. I didn’t go out to him but stayed inside the low white rail fence bordering the front yard.
“What’s the matter with your car?”
He shook his head, looking pasty and sweating at the temples. “Nothing. It’s... it’s me. I pulled in and felt like I couldn’t drive another inch. I had to get out and chuck up.”
“Oh. Well... I guess you shouldn’t have driven all night. You’re exhausted. It’s not safe.”
Culley gave a weak laugh. “Self-preservation isn’t my number one concern these days.”
It was strange to see him again, when I’d been so sure I never would. Though as handsome as ever, Culley seemed... diminished somehow. And it wasn’t just his sickly state. His eyes looked hollow, the skin of his face stretched unnaturally tight. The anger I held toward him crumbled a bit around the edges.
Folding my arms over my chest, I took a step closer to him. “So... you said you wanted to talk. About what?”
He took a breath and stood straighter. “I wanted to tell you...” Culley paused and took a few more breaths. “... to tell you I’m sorry. For stealing the saol from Altum. For the S situation. You asked me before if I knew what my father would do with it. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. But I should have cared. I do now, and I regret what I’ve done.”
“Okay... and you drove all night to tell me this why?”
“I want you to forgive me. I couldn’t stand the way you looked at me there at the parade when I told you about my part in the spread of S. I haven’t been able to sleep or eat since you left. I want... I want you to come with me. I can change. I have changed. I can be a decent bond-mate—if you’ll give me a chance. We can go anywhere you want—take that trip to Savannah, go back to that hotel you love in Nashville—anywhere.”
The desperate offer and vulnerable expression he wore caused my heart to tug in his direction. “Culley...”
This was terrible. I hated seeing him like this. He was so distraught—so broken. I took another step toward the fence.
The sound of shoes slapping against the driveway caused me to spin around toward the house. Asher was running down the drive, a fierce expression on his face. His grandfather walked behind him, carrying a rifle.
Oh my God. I turned back to Culley. “Just leave, okay?”
His expression was resolute. “Not without you.”
Culley please. You shouldn’t even want me. You and I... we’re not in love.
It doesn’t matter, Angel. I want you anyway. We’re two of a kind. We’re good together. That’s as good as it gets in this life.
You’re wrong. You’re only saying that because you’ve never been in love. I have. I took a deep breath and released it. I love him, Culley.
Culley stood up straight and swayed back, looking like he’d been slapped. But then he set his jaw in determination, keeping his gaze steadily fixed on mine even as Asher approached.
When Asher reached me, he pulled me to him, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders. His rapid breaths were audible. “You okay?” he asked between them.
I nodded, and he turned his attention to Culley. “What can we do for you... mate?” He bit off the last word, making it sound exactly like the challenge it was.
Culley’s hands curled into fists. He lifted his chin and stood a little taller, though he still looked queasy. “You can go back up to the house and let Ava and me finish our conversation. We’ll both be out of your hair soon enough and you can go back to reading the Farmer’s Almanac, or whatever the hell it is you people do around here.”
The muscles in Asher’s neck went rigid. “She’s not go
ing anywhere with you. This is her home now.”
“It’s true,” I said to Culley. “I’ve made a decision. This is where I want to be.” Silently I added, I’m staying with Asher. Please try to understand.
I could see in his eyes he believed me now. They closed in a long, slow blink before he opened them again and gave me a pleading glance. You’re the one who doesn’t understand. If you won’t have me... I’m afraid of what’s going to become of me. I need you, Ava.
My heart tore, one part pulling toward the guy at my side the other toward the guy pouring his out in the street. But it wasn’t right—for either of us.
No, Culley. You need someone you can really open up to. You’ll never be happy until you let your guard down and open your heart and let someone see the real you.
That’s the thing, isn’t it? He huffed a humorless laugh though his face was contorted in misery. No one can see the real me—except for you. You’ve asked me what I really look like. Well, you’re looking at him. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who looks at me and sees the same thing I see in the mirror. You see me. But it doesn’t seem to matter. You don’t want the real me.
Again my heart squeezed, but I stood my ground. He didn’t need my sympathy—he needed a real, eternal connection with someone he truly loved. That wasn’t me. And he was right—he wasn’t the one I loved, the one I needed.
Someone will, Culley. I promise you, someone will.
He barked out a sharp, bleak laugh and turned around, stalking away, as if he meant to hike out to the highway on foot and leave his expensive car idling in front of us.
Granddaddy spoke up. “Asher, son, why don’t you go ahead and pull that young man’s car back out onto the street for him? Looks like he could use a hand.”
“Yeah, a hand... or my boot in his ass,” Asher muttered. But he followed his grandfather’s instructions, backing the car onto the county road then getting out of it and calling to Culley. “Hey—here you go. Now why don’t you get inside and get the hell out of here? And don’t bother coming back. Ava’s happy with me, and I plan to keep it that way.”