by SL Beabhar
"New house rule." Ash approached his aunt, grabbed the cigarette from her lips, and snubbed it against his palm. "No more smoking in the house."
"Woo-wee," Reggie said, bobbing her head. "You ain't gotta take it out on me just because you've fucked up."
"I haven't fucked up."
"From where I am standing," she said, pounding her cane against the hardwood floor, "you most certainly have." She grabbed onto his arm and leaned her weight against him. "Help me to the couch."
Ash heard the exhaustion in Reggie's voice, and he reacted immediately. His aunt rarely asked for help, but when she did, it usually meant she was in a truly bad way. He draped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the couch.
"I'm going to give that physical therapist a call in the morning," he said. "I think it's time she made some home visits."
"I don't need no more therapy. They had me working with a physical therapist at the hospital before they discharged me." Settling on the couch, she brushed his words aside. "You brought in Phoebe to help me, and she does just fine."
He sat down beside her and placed his arm on the back of the couch. He shifted to face her. "I'm sure Phoebe's doing all she can, but she's not a physical therapist."
He lifted his aunt's hand, feeling the faint throb of her pulse. Reggie had always been his rock, even when his parents were alive. His father was too worried about appearances to let him and his sisters run free; their mother had been so consumed with trying to meet her own expectations that she'd frequently ignored her kids. It was Reggie who'd listened to his dreams and fostered his imagination.
It rocked him to his core, seeing how fragile she was. "I want you back to full strength, then we get rid of this thing." He pointed at the cane she clutched between her hands.
A sad smile curved her lips. She placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you and I both know that's not gonna happen." She lifted the cane and settled it across her lap. "I'm old, Ashley. I ain't gonna bounce back from this, not like you think. Not like I wish. This is my new normal, and I guess I better just accept it because I could be dead."
"Reg," he murmured. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought of a world without his Aunt Reggie.
She wiped a tear from his face, then slapped her palm against his cheek. "No tears for me. Like I said, I ain't dead." She pulled her hand away, and nibbled on her bottom lip. "But I've been thinkin' since you ain't been, and I think you should give this marriage thing a real go."
In an instant, the tears dried up. His feelings towards Phoebe were complicated, but he was positive of one thing--whatever they felt for each other was only temporary. It would burn itself out just like every other relationship he'd ever had.
Wouldn't it?
Taking a moment to gather his emotions, Ash glanced over his shoulder and pointed back towards the kitchen. "So you want grilled chicken or would you like some pizza? Because I've been craving pizza."
"Don't you change the subject."
"It's not a subject I want to discuss at the moment." He pushed up from the couch, then extended his hand. When she glared at it, he knelt down, wrapped his arm under hers, and pulled her to her feet. "Pizza or chicken?"
"You know she wants me to eat healthy."
"What's wrong with pizza?" He guided her into the kitchen and helped her take a seat at the table. He then walked to the fridge and opened the freezer drawer. "The crust is made from grains. There's tomatoes. Cheese and meat. If you ask me, it's a total and complete meal."
"Okay." Reggie laughed. "Let's have pizza."
He flashed her a grin as he pulled a pizza from the freezer. "Excellent choice."
"With a nice big glass of whiskey."
"Don't push it, old one."
They exchanged amused glances.
"Ashley," Reggie said, folding her hands in front of her, "people get you wrong. They think you're just pretty with no substance."
He removed the packaging and tossed it into the trash. "But they're wrong."
"Well. No. Not entirely."
"Thanks, Reg."
She cackled. "Hear me out. I'm spittin' wisdom here." She pointed towards her heart. "Your sisters think you're the strong one. When your parents died, they looked up to you, and you bore that responsibility. At times, I felt more like the nanny while I watched you parent them girls. Your friends don't know that about you. They just see your flashiness and think you ain't got no heart. But I know better."
Ash grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge and joined Reggie at the table. He untwisted the cap to her bottle, then slid it across the table. Watching as she sipped at the liquid, he slapped his own bottle between his hands and thought about Reggie's words.
He knew she was winding herself up for some big moral lesson. And he didn't want to deprive her of the pleasure, but he also knew she was dragging this out. "The pizza's only got a few more minutes to cook. Can we cut to the end?"
Her hand dropped to the table and water sputtered from the bottle's opening. "Fine, you little asshat. I think she'll be good for you."
"Really?" He smiled. "Wasn't it just yesterday you were warning me away?"
"That was before you screwed her." She squinted an eye. "Literally and biblically."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Over the next week, the small household settled into a routine. Ash would wake up early in the morning, make his own breakfast, then rush out of the house and spend most of the day at work. Phoebe spent many hours transporting Reggie to appointments or working on improving Reggie's endurance. At night, Phoebe and Reggie would eat their dinner, and Ash would come home sometime after they'd gone to bed and eat his own supper.
Thus, it surprised Phoebe when Ash entered the kitchen around 10:00 am dressed in a checkered black shirt, gray t-shirt, and black cargo-style khakis. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing fine, dark hairs on his forearms. His dark brown hair, with its bronze highlights, was swept away from his brow. His amber eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked to the fridge, opened the doors, and began to shuffle items around.
Phoebe came to stand behind him, curious to see what he was looking for. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Nope," he said, pushing aside a carton of eggs. He twisted his body, extending his arm to the farthest corner, then smiled and withdrew his arm. He held a roll of double chocolate chip cookie dough. "I'm making cookies."
She watched as he pulled a baking sheet from the cabinet and removed a knife from the drawer. As she lurked near the sink, he sliced individual cookies from the roll and placed them on the sheet.
"Why aren't you at work?" she asked.
"I requested the day off after working seven straight days." There was a glob of cookie dough on his thumb. Sticking his thumb into his mouth, he sucked the dough off then said, "Reggie's physical therapist will be here in fifteen minutes."
That was a surprise to Phoebe. She wiped her hands against the back of her leggings, then glanced around the kitchen. "I thought he wasn't coming until Friday."
Ash shrugged. "I rescheduled the appointment for today."
"Why?" What she really wanted to know was why he didn't tell her.
He opened the oven door and pushed the cookie sheet inside. He set the timer, then grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water. "Reggie mentioned that she didn't want a male physical therapist. I thought it a bit strange, considering she usually loves it when a younger man dotes on her." He poured the water into the coffeemaker and added freshly ground coffee. Finished with his work, he turned around and rested his hip against the counter. "So I asked for a female therapist, and they told me she wasn't available on Fridays. I asked for the next available appointment, and they told me today."
"When did you talk to them?"
"On Monday."
She bit the inside of her cheek. Judging from his smug expression, he knew he was annoying her. "Today's Wednesday. You could have told me that you'd changed the appointment."
He shrugged.
"Where's Reggie?"
He rested his hands against the edge of the counter and crossed his ankles. "She's watching television in her room. She's already showered and dressed, right?"
"Yes," she said, grabbing the empty cookie package and tossing it into the trash. "That's the first thing we do in the morning."
She heard a car pull into the driveway. Quirking her brow, she walked past Ash and went to the front door. She peered through the small panel window, waiting for the therapist to reach the door. Then Phoebe grabbed the handle, pulled the door wide, and stepped aside. "Please come in."
The therapist hovered in the doorway, looking at Phoebe with curiosity. Her eyes scanned the living room before she pulled a satchel from her shoulder and entered the room. "Are you Reggie?"
"No. I'm Phoebe." Phoebe extended her hand. The therapist looked down at her hand, then pulled her gaze back to Phoebe's face. After a moment, she grabbed Phoebe's hand and shook it. "I'm Leslie Keen. I'm from South Puget Sound Physical Therapy."
"It's nice to meet you, Leslie." With a smile, Phoebe pushed the door closed. She heard the confusion in Leslie's voice, and she wondered if Leslie thought she'd gotten the name of her patient wrong. "Reggie's in her bedroom." She motioned for Leslie to sit down, then she pointed towards Reggie's room. "Do we need to fill out any paperwork? Maybe we could do that first, or would you like to get started with the session?"
Leslie's green eyes narrowed as she looked at the staircase. "Is Reggie's room upstairs?"
Phoebe shook her head. "No. Ash converted his office into a bedroom. It's here on the first floor."
An eager smile bloomed on Leslie's face. She bounced on her feet as she continued to look around the house. "I recognize the name, Ash. He's Reggie's nephew, right? I spoke with him over the telephone."
"And I'm right here." Ash emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with the freshly baked cookies and three mugs of coffee. His amber eyes homed in on Leslie, and it was at that moment that Phoebe wondered if this was more than a therapy session.
She pointed from Leslie to Ash. "Have you two met?"
Ash set the tray down, then extended his hand. "No. We just talked over the phone."
"I'm Leslie Keen." Leslie tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder and eagerly took his hand. He pointed towards the couch, and she sat down on the center cushion while he sat down to the right of her.
There was enough room on the couch for three people, but it seemed awkward for Phoebe to join them. Instead, she walked to the armchair and sat down, never taking her eyes away from the pretty duo on the couch.
"Would you like some coffee?" Ash asked Leslie, lifting a mug from the tray.
Leslie scrunched up her shoulders. "I usually don't drink coffee." She looked in Phoebe's direction for the briefest moment. "I think we all drink too much coffee. I prefer green or white tea." In spite of her words, she took the mug from Ash's hand. A slight blush darkened her cheeks when her fingers grazed his hand. "But it's all about moderation, right?"
There was a pleased expression on Ash's face as he rubbed his hands against his thighs.
"I was just asking Leslie if we needed to complete the paperwork first," Phoebe said as she glared at the woman. Phoebe knew she should fetch Reggie from her room, but she was too afraid to leave these two alone. She also knew her fear was irrational; even though she and Ash were married, there was no expectation that they had to be faithful to each other. In fact, she'd told herself that she wanted him to see other people. This was only a temporary arrangement, after all.
Leslie pulled her satchel onto her lap, then she tossed open the flap. She pulled out a promotional folder, opened it, and removed a stapled packet. "Typically, I like to meet first with the client and talk about our goals and expectations." She handed the packet to Ash. "But I also like to meet with the family and get their views on the type of care Reggie is currently receiving and what goals you'd like her to reach." Then she turned in Phoebe's direction, the curiosity returning to her eyes. "I know Ash is Reggie's nephew," she said as she touched the small section of cushion that separated her from Ash, "but I don't think I got how you're related."
"I'm Reggie's caregiver."
"She's my wife."
They had spoken at the same time. Phoebe wiggled in her seat and shoved her hands between her thighs. Through her lashes, she peeked at Ash and found his dimples out in full force.
Leslie, on the other hand, looked visibly chilled. She reached to the side and grabbed her bag, using that movement to put some distance between herself and Ash. She then glanced at her watch, and hopped from the couch. "Actually, I should probably go meet Reggie. Time's flying."
Phoebe caught the laughter on Ash's face. She stood and waited for Leslie to walk past her, then she stomped on Ash's foot. "Behave."
The grin faded from his face, but the humor lingered in his eyes. He left the couch, following close behind Phoebe. Leslie walked to Reggie's door and knocked.
There was a thumping sound as Reggie walked to the door. The small smile on her face faded away when she saw Leslie standing there.
"Who in the hell are you?"
"Reggie," Ash warned.
Leslie shook her head, sending a silent message to Ash that she could handle it. "I'm Leslie. Your new physical therapist. I'm here to hel--"
Reggie slammed the door shut.
"I'm sorry about that," Phoebe muttered, knocking on Reggie's door. She looked directly into Ash's eyes, lifted her brows, and hitched her head back towards the living room. "Why don't you do that paperwork, and I'll talk to Reggie."
Leslie pressed up beside Phoebe. She placed her hand against the door. Judging from the wild look in her eyes, she didn't want to be left alone with Ash. "How about I talk to Reggie alone? It's not uncommon for patients to show some resistance."
"Okay," Ash said, grabbing Phoebe's hand. He pulled her away from the door and threw a wave over his shoulder. "We'll be right out here when you finish."
Phoebe squeezed his hand until he flinched and pulled away. Flashing her an ornery grin, he retreated into the living room as she considered whether or not to toss the cookies in his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The look Phoebe shot him was flaming. Damn near singed his eyebrows. He beckoned to her and sat down on the couch, pulling her down onto his lap.
She tried to leave, but he wrapped his arms around her and chuckled when she pinched his arm. After a few moments, she released a heavy sigh, then dropped her head against his shoulder. He nestled his chin against the black knot of her hair and inhaled her fresh scent.
"This is encouraging," Phoebe murmured against his chest.
He thought so, too. "I've been thinking about this all morning." He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold. "We should probably do this more often."
Phoebe tilted her head, searching his face. "How many therapy sessions does Reggie's insurance allow?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure. Twelve or thirteen, I think."
Holding her like this caused his insides to churn. Her warm breath caressed his skin. Her bottom wiggled against his lap as she pulled her long legs up onto the couch.
"I'm encouraged," she murmured, "but I'm also worried."
If he was honest with himself, he felt a bit apprehensive too. He knew things would eventually work out between them. There was entirely too much chemistry for them to deny it. His hand wandered the length of her back. She tensed for a moment, but she didn't pull away. Encouraged, he slid his hand under her shirt and rested his hand against her ribcage.
She arched a brow at him. "You're not the least bit worried about Reggie?"
His hand stilled in its exploration as his mind replayed their conversation. He'd been thinking their conversation was about them and how they both shared some level of encouragement. But looking at her puzzled face, he realized she'd been talking about Reggie and the physical therapist. There hadn't been any explos
ions from the bedroom, no scene involving Leslie sprinting from the house screaming that she would never return.
It felt like a bucket of water had splashed across his face, and he was at risk of drowning. He grunted, dropped his arms from Phoebe, and scooted out from under her.
Her lips twisted in a snarl, Phoebe plopped onto the cushion beside him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He leaned forward and plucked two cookies from the plate. He stuck one in his mouth, then held the other out to her. When she shook her head, he shrugged and held onto it. "I wanted to be ready to spring into action if things changed with Reggie."
"Maybe it'll work out between them." Phoebe tucked her arm through his, and he reared back in surprise. She didn't seem to notice his reaction because she once again rested her head against his shoulder. "I think Reggie realizes she's going to need help if she wants to improve."
"She's convinced she's going to rely on that cane for the rest of her life." He'd finished the first cookie and now he considered whether his weight could handle a second one or not. He worked out on a daily basis, usually burning more calories than he consumed. But he was aware he was getting older, and there had been a lot of changes in his life recently. He could probably handle a second one, but he thought better of it. Smiling with triumph, he tossed the second cookie back onto the plate.
Phoebe gaped at him, approval lighting her eyes. "Look at you."
He twisted his lips. "You act like I lack self-control."
She shrugged a shoulder.
"I'll have you know if I lacked self-control, you'd be beneath me, screaming out my name." When her eyes narrowed, he stifled a grin. He didn't know why he'd said it. Pure orneriness he guessed. "But I'm the master of my body. And if you give me enough time, I'll master yours."
Phoebe tucked her legs beneath her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Leslie's kinda cute."
"What?" His head twisted in her direction. "You're thinking threesome? I'm totally down with that." The bark of laughter that erupted from her throat startled him. He leapt in his seat, then clutched at his heart. "I thought the 'she's kinda cute' was universal for 'we could all totally get it on'."