by Cate Cameron
It was happening. Here, in front of everybody. In front of Ashley. Josh knew he deserved it, but he wished they were somewhere more private.
But David clearly wasn’t interested in making things more low-key. “You’ve got nothing to say, you whore?” He didn’t wait long for Josh’s reply. He raised the golf club he’d been carrying and he swung, hard.
Josh half turned so the club hit him on the back of his knee instead of the side. He’d take some pain, but he didn’t want a permanent injury because of this. He felt the explosion as the club connected and let his knees buckle. He caught himself on one hand and didn’t try to stand up. He’d done it. He deserved this.
Another swing, this one catching him on his bicep, then another to his back, then his side, then his shoulders.
He saw the crowd stir, the people who’d been frozen with shock jostled aside as the cousins arrived. But Josh couldn’t let any of them fight his battles for him, and he knew they wouldn’t just stand there and watch him take a beating.
So on the next swing he reached out and caught the shaft of the club, letting his arm be driven back by the force of the blow while his hand stayed tightly gripped. David tried to pull it away but Josh hung on, twisting the club out of the other man’s grip.
The cousins got between them, Kevin and Ben grabbing David none-too-gently and pushing him away. Josh stayed on his knees for a moment, his eyes closed, wishing it would all just go away. But he knew it wouldn’t, so he laid the club gently on the green pavement and made himself stand up, ignoring the complaints from his abused body.
And then Aunt Carol arrived, swooping in like an angry eagle, glaring at David McArthur for half a second before turning all her attention toward Josh. “Are you okay?” she demanded.
“I’m fine,” Josh said. He raised his voice just a little. “It’s not a big deal. I’m fine.”
Cal Montgomery had arrived and was helping to calm David McArthur down, which was good; the man was a lot more likely to listen to someone he considered a social equal. And Cal’s family name would protect him from any revenge McArthur might have thought was due to people who’d interfered with him. Yeah, Cal could take care of that mess; Josh just needed to get out of there.
“Should you go to the hospital?” Aunt Carol asked. “No, don’t bother answering, you always say ‘no.’ But I think you need to, and I win. Let’s go, Joshy.”
It was the pet name that made it unbearable. Did she not know why David McArthur had been so angry? Did she think it made sense to call him a child’s name after that?
“No, I’m okay,” he said. He forced a smile. “Seriously.”
“No, you need to get—”
And then Ashley’s voice, clear and strong, but with such completely random words that he was sure he’d misheard her. “I’m going to learn to fish.” He turned toward her, waited for things to make sense, and then nodded cautiously. She smiled back at him, but he could see a little wildness around her eyes, a little desperation and maybe even confusion. Whatever she was doing, she clearly wasn’t sure it was going to work. But she kept going anyway. “I’ll be in a fishing derby, eventually. Have you ever been in a fishing derby?”
Aunt Carol was looking at her as if she was deranged, but as Josh caught up, he was pretty sure he appreciated the topic change. “No,” he said. There might be a larger audience for their conversation, but he didn’t have to pay any attention to it. “I’ve done some fishing, though. It’s not quite as exciting as you might think.”
She nodded encouragingly. “That sounds good. I’m not looking for excitement.”
“Well, then, fishing’s your sport.” He winced as he cautiously rolled his shoulders.
She stepped a little closer and lowered her voice. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Aunt Carol seemed to approve of the conversation finally returning to something relevant. “You should go to the hospital,” she said firmly, her hands hovering over Josh’s shoulders as if craving contact but afraid to cause pain. “And we should call the police.”
“No police,” Josh said. He looked at Ashley, the embarrassment back as he said, “I deserved it.”
Aunt Carol’s mouth twitched in frustration. “No, you didn’t. His wife, she made her own decisions. If he’s not going to take a golf club to her . . .” She caught herself. “Well, of course he shouldn’t hit his wife! But—”
“It’s okay, Aunt Carol.” The crowd was starting to fade away and he wanted the whole thing to go away with them. “I’m fine. It’s The Splash—shit happens.”
Aunt Carol had her mouth open to respond.
Ashley stepped in close so only Aunt Carol and Josh could hear her as she said, “I didn’t really want to come to this in the first place. I’ve been feeling like a third wheel since we left the cottage. If you’re planning to stick around, that’s great, I can do my thing, but if you were planning on leaving, and if there was any chance you’d want some company? You’d be helping me out if the company could be me.”
He knew what she was doing, but he’d be damned if he could make himself care. “Yeah, okay. We could head out, if you want.”
“I’d like that.” She dodged around him, practically herding him toward the exit, and he pretended not to see her as she mouthed I’ll watch him at Aunt Carol as she moved. Aunt Carol nodded cautious approval. Josh was making his escape.
They stopped briefly by Kevin and Charlotte as they left, Kevin squinting at Josh while Charlotte assessed Ashley, and then they were free.
“I think people who enter fishing derbies should also drive pickup trucks,” Ashley said as they reached the parking lot. She held her hand out for the keys.
“You’re pushing it,” Josh warned. But she’d helped him escape, so he dug in his pocket and handed over the keys.
“So, that was The Splash,” she mused as she carefully drove over the potholes of the makeshift parking lot.
“A bit dull this year,” he said. “Usually there’s some pretty good drama.”
She laughed, a low, easy sound he was sure he’d be happy to hear on a constant loop for the rest of his life, and he closed his eyes and let himself dream, for just a moment, of a world where something like that would be possible.
Fourteen
THERE HAD STILL been a little twilight at the lake, but by the time they reached the cabin it was full dark. Daisy the Demon Dog came roaring out toward the pickup, only briefly illuminated by the headlights, and Josh watched Ashley sit up straighter, peering around to try to be sure she didn’t run over the animal. “She’s smart about cars,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
Ashley relaxed and pulled the truck into its usual spot by the cabin door. “Thanks for letting me drive. It was fun.”
“Almost as fun as fishing is going to be.” He pushed the door open and swung his legs around, his muscles protesting the movement. They’d seized up a little during the ride in from town, and he didn’t want to think what they were going to feel like in the morning. Daisy danced over to greet him and he inhaled and then stared at her. “Holy Christ, Daisy, what the hell did you roll in?”
Daisy tossed her head and danced a little more, clearly thrilled with her new perfume. Ashley came around the bed of the truck and took a cautious sniff. “Oh my God,” she said, her hand flying up to cover her nose. “What is that?”
“I don’t . . . It’s like . . . It’s got some skunkiness, but . . . Daisy, did you roll in a dead skunk?”
Daisy didn’t answer, and Josh couldn’t blame her. The stench spoke for itself.
He groaned as he turned to Ashley. “Thanks for driving me out here. If you want to take the truck to the cottage—”
“Your aunt would kick my ass if I left you out here on your own.”
Well, that was true enough, but Josh could clearly remember Ashley’s attitude the last time they’d been together, on the dock,
and there was no way seeing the wronged husband appear would have made her less disgusted with his behavior. “She doesn’t have to know.”
But Ashley shoved the truck keys into her purse and looked down at Daisy. “She gets a bath? You’re not going to enjoy that, with your bruises and all.”
No, he wasn’t. But he deserved the punishment, and Ashley sure didn’t. “I’ll be okay.”
“I think people who enter fishing derbies and drive pickups are pretty good at washing dogs,” she said.
“You haven’t actually entered a derby yet, have you?”
“There isn’t a rigid chronological order to my achievements,” she said archly. “Now that I’ve mastered pickup driving, I can work on dog washing. I’ll move on to fishing later.” She was pretty good at smiling while still looking like she wasn’t going to take any of his crap. “So, do you have special dog soap or do you just use shampoo or something?”
“Horse shampoo,” he admitted. “And I’ve got baking soda and peroxide, in case that is skunk.” He was an asshole for letting her do this, but damn it, he hurt, and he didn’t want her to leave. “She likes baths. I can do most of it. But yeah, if you don’t have anything better to do . . . ”
“It sounds like a good time,” she assured him.
He let himself go with it. Every step to the barn hurt, mostly his leg but his shoulder as well, and he really didn’t think his right hand was going to be much good at scrubbing a squirming dog. “I could have just locked her outside for the night,” he said apologetically. “But she’s used to sleeping inside. She would have barked. . . .”
“No problem.” Ashley followed his gesture toward the trunk where he kept the shampoo, then called the excited dog out to the hose in the stable yard. “A bath!” she exclaimed in an excited voice, and Daisy jumped up in the air, clearly anticipating the fun. Ashley looked at Josh. “Aren’t dogs supposed to hate baths?”
“Daisy’s defiant,” he said. “If she’s supposed to do something, she does the opposite.” He stood and watched as Ashley figured it all out. She squirted shampoo onto the dry dog, realized it wouldn’t foam without water, and then used the hose to soak the dog, washing most of the shampoo away in the process. “Harder than it looks,” she said with a grin in Josh’s direction. “But it’s good. I’ve got this.”
“I can—”
“You can stay still,” she replied, aiming the hose at him in a threatening manner. “This is my life experience. You can go get your own!”
So she sudsed and scrubbed and rinsed and added baking soda and peroxide and laughed, and Daisy shook herself and then came back for more, and Josh stood and watched, trying to ignore the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with a damn golf club. When Daisy was finally rinsed clean and Ashley’s sniff test confirmed that bath time was over, Josh stepped a little closer and said, “Thank you. Really. That would have been pretty rough for me to do.”
“And it was pretty fun for me to do. What’s next?”
“What?”
“Are you just going inside? Do you want me to—you had dinner at The Splash, right? What else do you need done?”
“I’m good. I just have to see to the horses—”
“I can do that.”
He squinted at her. “Do you even know what it means?”
“They live outside, right? So I assume you feed them? They have that big water trough, I guess you check that it’s full. And then you . . . sing them to sleep?”
“Yes. Exactly. All of that. They like eighties rock ballads.”
“Well, they’re in luck, ’cause I like eighties rock ballads, too!”
She started humming as she headed around the side of the barn toward the horses. She looked back over her shoulder. “You coming? Or should I just throw some hay at them and hope for the best?”
“I’m coming,” he said, and he pushed away from the wall that had been offering him much-needed support. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight, not for as long as he could manage.
He followed Ashley around the corner of the barn and showed her how to put just a little sweet feed in a bucket and then rattle it around until the horses came for a snack. “They don’t actually need the feed,” he explained. “They don’t work that hard, and they’re all good keepers. But I like to check on them every night, and this brings them in so I can do it.”
“And ‘check on them’ means . . .?”
“Just watch them move,” he said, and he eased in behind her so they’d both have the same view. “In the morning, when it’s light, I can check for scratches or whatever, but at night, as long as they’re moving smoothly, I figure they’re okay.”
He crouched down to bring his eyes closer to the same level as Ashley’s, both of them still staring out at the horses. “See the way Rocky’s ears are moving? It’s just a silhouette, but it’s all you need to see. Those are relaxed, curious ears; they belong to a healthy horse.”
“Okay,” she said. That was all, just one word, but there was a breathiness to it, a quality that was the complete opposite of the practical tone she’d used while washing the dog. He realized how close they were standing, how his breath must be tickling her cheek, and he let himself inhale, just gently, just enough to get a scent of her skin after a day in the sun.
“Josh,” she whispered, and she turned slowly toward him.
It was natural. Inevitable. She stretched up and he leaned down, and their lips met, just a light brush of skin. It could have passed for a casual greeting if either of them could breathe properly, or if either had pulled away. Instead, they stayed there like that, for several moments too long, and then just as Ashley swayed one hairsbreadth closer, he pulled away. All the doubts, all the certainties about why this was a bad idea washed back over him even though he had new ideas now. There had been so many times when this woman had been more than what he’d expected, but . . . it was too much. His brain was spinning and he didn’t want to make a mistake, so he pulled away.
“I should get some sleep,” he said gruffly. “Rough day. You can drive the truck back to the lake, if you want; I can get Kevin to pick me up tomorrow.”
Her nod was shaky. “Right,” she said, sounding as if she wasn’t at all sure. “Okay. Yeah.”
So they finished up with the horses and walked back to the house, and Josh handed Ashley the truck keys and walked her outside. He needed some time to cool off and think about all this, he was pretty sure.
She climbed behind the wheel and he headed inside. He was going to go to bed and get some sleep. And maybe things would make a bit more sense in the morning.
* * *
ASHLEY sat behind the wheel of the truck, not moving. She didn’t even have the ignition turned on. She just kept replaying the kiss over and over in her mind, wondering what it might mean, and what it meant that he’d pulled away, and what might have happened if he hadn’t.
She saw the lights turn off in the house and imagined Josh laying his head down on the pillow. What did he wear to bed? Did he sleep on his back or his side? If she were in bed with him, would they snuggle or give each other space?
She was still daydreaming about it when she saw the headlights shining through the trees. A moment later she heard the purr of the approaching car’s engine through her lowered window.
Daisy bounded off the porch, growling fiercely as the familiar car pulled up in front of the cabin and the engine shut off, and the dog’s objections got a little louder and angrier as Jasmine stepped out of the driver’s side.
Ashley was out of the truck and heading for the car before she gave it any thought. “He’s asleep,” she said. “You should leave him alone.”
“He’s okay?” For the first time since Ashley had known her, Jasmine looked almost frazzled. “I didn’t . . . honestly, Ashley, I didn’t mean for this to happen. There was some reporter sniffing around, trying to get
an update on you after the breakup with Derek. He asked around, heard about Josh, and then I guess he heard about me. And the son-of-a-bitch went running to David with the news.” Jasmine seemed dazed, but almost pleased as she added, “I honestly thought David already knew. I thought he just didn’t care.”
“He seemed to care,” Ashley said. She knew this was none of her business and she knew it was dangerous to her career to get involved, but she couldn’t keep from adding, “Josh has moved on. Whatever you guys had, you need to let it go.”
Jasmine fought to control her expression, and she won, coming up with a calm, almost haughty face as she said, “He’s moved on to you?”
“Probably not,” Ashley admitted. One kiss didn’t cancel out all the rejections. “I think I managed to screw that up. You helped a bit, if that makes you feel any better.”
Jasmine somehow made her snort sound sophisticated and ladylike. “No. It doesn’t, really.” She was quiet for too long, looking at the stars, the dog, anything but Ashley, and then she finally whispered, “Does he hate me?”
Ashley knew what she was supposed to say, but instead she told the truth. “I have no idea.” The expression on Jasmine’s face made her add, “If he does, it’s not because of tonight. Tonight was . . . He said he deserved it. And even if he didn’t, that was David, not you.”
Jasmine nodded slowly. “And he’s really okay?”
“He’ll be fine.” Ashley stepped a little closer. “But, Jasmine? He’s done his penance, okay? This has to be over.”
Jasmine nodded slowly. She looked up at the stars again, took a deep breath as if gathering strength, and then said, “David will fire him, of course. And some of our friends probably will, too. I don’t think there’s anything I can do about that. I need to focus on my marriage, and fighting for the financial security of my ex-lover will not help me with that.”
Ashley nodded. “I assume he’s figured that out for himself.”