The Best I Could

by R. K. Ryals

  “Turkey please,” Tansy said.

  “Don’t be shy, roof girl. Just throw it in the basket.”

  Her brows rose. “You’re going to wish you didn’t say that.”

  By the time we were ready to check out, we’d thrown in French bread, grapes—Tansy preferred the red, seedless kind—and a variety of cheesecake slices. Not to mention, chocolate cake.

  Tansy was a fruits and sweets kind of girl.

  In the checkout line, she picked up a tabloid magazine and flipped through it. “This stuff always makes me feel better about my life, even if most of it is fake.”

  “What? You don’t think what’s-his-name could hook up with what’s-her-name while their married counterparts are hooking up the same weekend.”

  “It’s plausible until you throw in the alien baby,” Tansy admitted.

  I laughed. “Alien baby? What kind of tabloid are you reading?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I threw that in there for entertainment value since we’re in a grocery store and not Atlanta.”

  “There are grocery stores in Atlanta,” I pointed out.

  “And a freak ton of restaurants,” she countered.

  “Freak ton? I’m going to start writing these words down and call it the Tansy Dictionary.”

  “You should. It would sell well. The new trend in language.”

  “Ready to check out?” the woman behind the register asked, catching our attention.

  I slid the basket over.

  Tansy snuck the tabloid onto the belt with it. “They’re completely terrible and not educational … and strangely addicting,” she murmured when she caught me looking.

  Pulling my wallet out, I smiled. “We all have our hang-ups.”

  She wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. Her eyes were on the teenage boy bagging the groceries. “Do you have any reusable bags?”

  The boy, a lanky kid with big eyes and small lips, glanced at the woman checking our items.

  “In the back,” the woman mumbled, running the chocolate cake over the scanner. “We don’t get asked for them a lot.”

  Lanky kid disappeared, coming back with a canvas bag.

  “It’ll cost extra,” the checkout woman informed us.

  Tansy started to speak, but I handed the extra money over. “We’ll take it.”

  Lanky boy bagged up the purchases, and then handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” Tansy said once we were outside.

  At the Buick, I opened her door, turned to peer down into her face, and placed my free hand against her cheek. “Never apologize for doing something you think is right.”

  “I’m not super obsessed or anything, but it’s the small things. I have a reusable bag at home, but I don’t keep it in the car.”

  My thumb smoothed over her skin. I couldn’t get enough of touching her. “Fruits, sweets, tabloids, and eco-friendly … what else do I need to know?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve recently learned I’m allergic to running. Truly. Gives me hives and everything.”

  My laugh rang out over the parking lot. Bantering with Tansy was never boring.

  “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  Tansy

  The grocery store had been a shock, but it was nothing compared to the dirt road Eli told me to turn down ten minutes later.

  My gaze swung to his profile, my eyes dropping to the skin revealed by his navy blue shirt. He’d left the first two buttons undone, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he did it on purpose.

  The car rocked, and I hit the brakes, slowing. “You’re taking me to the middle of nowhere.”

  “Just a little farther, I promise,” he assured.

  Trees surrounded us, the dirt road narrow enough that low hanging limbs brushed the sides of my car.

  “It’s a good thing the scratches those branches are leaving behind aren’t going to mess up the whole rust thing I’ve got going on with old Buey here.”

  Eli chuckled.

  “In other news, this is a good place to hide a body,” I added.

  “Look,” he said, ducking his head to peer out the windshield.

  My gaze flew to the forest, my foot slamming against the brakes, my eyes widening. “Holy shit!”

  There among the trees was a magnificent treehouse. Not the kind built for a child to play in, but the kind they made television shows about. This treehouse consisted of two separate buildings connected by a rope bridge. The larger structure wrapped around the tree that supported it, the wall facing us a bank of windows. Strung fairy lights lined the wood, the bulbs glowing in the dim tree cover. At night, they had to be breathtaking.

  “What is this?” I whispered.

  “It belongs to an older couple, friends of my grandfather’s. They had it built years ago after the wife retired. They wanted a place they could go to get away from everything, and a place their children and grandchildren could stay when they visited. They also let friends and family stay in it when they’re in town. I talked to Brent, the guy who owns it, and we’ve got it for today. Not overnight, but you don’t want to miss this place once the sun sets.”

  My chest was tight, making it almost impossible to breathe. “You’ve been here before?”

  “Years ago. Back when it was cool for me to pretend I was Peter Pan fighting Captain Hook from the deck.” He laughed. “I came with Pops when I was eleven. He was here to talk business with Brent, and I needed the time away from my mother.”

  “It’s perfect,” I found myself saying. Grabbing the door handle, I shoved the driver’s side door open, and jumped out of the car.

  “It seemed like a Tansy place to be,” Eli remarked, climbing out across from me.

  Our eyes met over the Buick’s roof.

  “This …” My gaze slid to the treehouse. “I kind of expected dinner and a movie.”

  Not magic. I hadn’t expected magic.

  Ducking his head, Eli pulled out the reusable shopping bag, and held it up. “Dinner.”

  Shutting my door, I stepped toward the treehouse. “Can we?”

  “Go,” he said, smiling. “But pull those heels off. I want to keep you in one piece.”

  The stairs were thin wooden rungs leading up into the trees. Leaning down, I pulled my heels off one at a time and started to climb, Eli behind me.

  The main building housed a living room. A small, cozy couch sat against the wall covered in pillows. Gossamer white curtains hung over the windows. The fairy lights from outside were strewn across the ceiling. A dining table, large enough to sit three, was off to the side, two bookshelves cattycornered opposite it.

  “There’s a bedroom across the rope bridge,” Eli informed me. “Stairs off the deck lead to a bathroom on the ground. The treehouse is close enough to the main house for the extra amenities, but far enough to feel secluded.”

  Barely listening, I moved to the deck and gasped.

  A creek ran past the second building, the water rushing swiftly down a gently sloped hill. Above me, the forest opened up to the sky. Clouds floated overhead, puffy and full of sunshine. On the ground, green grass and foliage carpeted the woods, a cleared path leading into a garden separating the treehouse and its forest home from a house in the distance.

  “This is unbelievable.”

  “A house made for fairies,” Eli agreed. “Or fallen angels.”

  Turning, I found him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, and a smile on his face.

  “Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s eat.”

  Rather than taking the food to the table, he placed the shopping bag on the deck, went for utensils, and returned. Sitting, he spread the contents of the bag out in front of him and motioned at me. “Not that I mind looking up your skirt,” he said with a laugh.

  I sat, my gaze locked on his face. When I’d first met Eli, he reminded me of a wild animal, sleek and snarling. Distant. Even then, he listened better than anyone I knew.

  “You want th
e tabloid now or later?” he asked, looking into the bag

  “Later,” I answered, grinning. “There’s plenty of time for my hang-ups when I get home.”

  Pulling his leg up, he draped his arm over it, the movement causing the neck of his shirt to fan open, revealing more skin.

  I swallowed, biting into the food he handed me to drag out the moment, to keep me from babbling nonsensical things. My mind worked a mile a minute, words pressing against my lips, but I didn’t know how to say them. This … it wasn’t just the treehouse or the way Eli listened, it was the way he stayed.

  Without thinking, I popped the rubber band I kept on my wrist.

  “Does it help?” Eli asked, his gaze on my fingers.

  During one of our phone conversations, we’d talked about my therapy session and the band Dr. Gomez gave me.

  “It does. More than I thought it would. I’m feeling a lot more grounded lately. I’m actually looking forward to leaving, to going to school.”

  He threw a grape in his mouth. “You know what you’re going to study?”

  “Environmental science.” I’d moved on to the chocolate cake because that was the kind of girl I was.

  Talking about the future was as hard as it was exciting, and after a few bites, I put down the food. My body felt numb, intense emotions sweeping through it, making my tongue feel huge.

  “Eli, I think we need to talk. About things.”

  He frowned. “You look serious. No distractions or drama, remember?”

  My heart pounded. “No … I mean yes, I get that. I-I think we’re done with this. With what we’re pretending is going on here.”

  Don’t do this, Tansy, my head begged.

  You’re not your parents, my heart replied.

  Eli’s brows furrowed, the frown on his face turning to anger. Not at me—I saw that immediately—but at himself.

  “Wait, I’m not saying this right,” I gasped.

  He stood, and I stood with him, panic seizing me. Over and over again, I popped the band.

  I knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to leave, and I rushed past him, stopping inside the doorway, my hands gripping each side of the open frame.

  Eli froze when I blocked his path, his eyes flashing.

  “Wait,” I panted, taking a moment to tell my anxious heart that what I was about to do wasn’t wrong. That it wasn’t something to be afraid of.

  “Move, Tansy.”

  Eli was so used to people leaving, to women giving up on him because they thought they needed something better.

  “No,” I answered firmly. Grinding my teeth together, I planted my feet into the floor. “No.” Lifting my head, my eyes locked on his. “You’d have to make me move, Eli. I didn’t mean that this,” I indicated us, “was over. I meant to say that I’m done pretending we’re friends. I think that … I think we’re more than that. I’d like to be more than that. I’d like to be what you said on the phone. Together.”

  All of the anger I’d seen in Eli rushed out of him. “Tansy—”

  I popped the band. “I mean, I know you’ll be done with your community service hours before long, and you have Michigan in the fall …” The band, my wrist, and sharp pain. “I’m not good most of the time. I fail. I’m not perfect. I’m wrong more than I’m right, but I’m here, and I’m willing to try. I don’t want to hurt you … I don’t want to hurt me. I just want—”

  “Shut up, Tansy,” Eli hissed, his hand gripping my wrist, stopping me from popping the band. Backing me into the room, he stared down at me, saying nothing.

  His head rose, his gaze going to the door leading to the rope bridge. Still silent, he tugged my wrist, leading me outside, across the light strewn walkway, to the second structure.

  A seat rested against a large window looking out over the creek. A bed, the posts wrapped in the same gossamer material that hung over the windows, made up most of the room, a sky blue comforter and white pillows strewn over the surface. Soft and inviting.

  “You’re scared,” Eli whispered.

  “Aren’t you?” I whispered back.

  “No,” he answered, surprising me, and by the way his eyes narrowed, himself.

  His hand dropped, lifting the hem of my dress, his fingers skimming my thigh. “Let’s talk about what you said earlier.” He smoothed his fingers over my skin, grazing the healing cuts there.

  I gasped. Not because the cuts hurt—they didn’t—but because my body responded so quickly, my legs growing heavy.

  Staring into my eyes, he said, “I’m not good most of the time. I fail. I’m not perfect. I’m wrong more than I’m right, but I’m here, and I’m willing to try. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He repeated my words, and the way he said them, slow and deliberate, making them his, made my heart pound.

  “I decide what I do with my heart, roof girl. You don’t have to talk me into something I’ve already decided.”

  “And what have you decided?” I asked.

  Letting go of my dress, he took my hands, and lifted them to his shirt. “Take it off,” he commanded.

  My fingers fumbled with the buttons.

  “Slow,” he murmured. “We’re not in any hurry. Let me love you, Tansy.”

  My gaze shot to his, my heart filling with an emotion so strong, it strangled me. “I know why he did it now,” I breathed.

  “Who?”

  “My dad.”

  Understanding dawned on Eli’s face, and his hands closed over mine on his chest. “No, Tansy. You’re nothing like him,” he murmured, bending so that his lips rested just above mine. “You wouldn’t give up on everyone just because you cared about someone else.”

  “Love,” I corrected. “Because I love someone else.”

  Fingers closing over mine, he helped me unbutton his shirt. One button at a time, his skin teasing me with each one freed until the navy shirt splayed open.

  “Lay down,” he told me.

  Pushing myself onto the bed, I fell back, my legs dangling off the side.

  Eli’s gaze raked over me, his eyes as potent as his hands, the affection in them startling.

  Leaning over me, he slid his fingers under my skirt, pushing the fabric up until he reached my underwear.

  “I want you,” he said.

  Hooking his thumbs under the hem of my panties, he worked them down my legs slowly, his gaze locked on my face.

  Heat infused my cheeks, passion and nerves coloring them.

  When he reached my feet, he tossed the panties to the floor, his hands working themselves back up my legs, teasing me, stroking my skin, and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

  When his fingers met my thighs, my back arched, breath whooshing out of me. “Eli!”

  Chuckling, he brought his knee up, resting it on the bed, his hand cupping the curve of my hip.

  There was something incredibly sexy about the way he leaned over me, his shirt open, my dress bunched up around my waist.

  My fingers found his belt, working it through the loops before tugging it open.

  His gaze dropped to my hands, his breathing deep.

  Slowly, I teased the button of his jeans loose, the zipper loud in the still room as I tugged it down.

  Eli’s eyes fell closed.

  My hand slipped into his boxer-briefs, wrapping the length of him, before squeezing him gently, working him.

  Eli groaned, his grip on my hip tightening.

  It was a powerful moment for me, having him in my hands, watching his brows furrow, abandoning himself to the sensations.

  “Shit, Tansy,” he gritted out, pulling himself away long enough to yank his jeans off, his hands fumbling for something in the pockets. A lighter and a wallet thudded to the floor. Picking up the wallet, he flipped it open, pulled a condom out, and threw the foil onto the bed next to my head.

  When he returned to me, he wasn’t as gentle as he was before, need feeding his actions. Seizing my dress, he forced it over my head, his hands falling to the clasp between my breasts.
Undoing my bra, he threw it away from us, his lips closing over my nipple, drawing it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the tip.

  Crying out, I slid my hands into his hair, tugging at it.

  He moved to the other breast, worshipping it, his fingers finding the heat between my legs.

  “Eli!” I screamed.

  His head rose, his heat-filled gaze meeting mine. “Come for me, Tansy.”

  He worked my body like an instrument, his body rocking against my side. “God, you should see your face right now,” he breathed.

  I screamed my release.

  Tearing the condom packet open with his teeth, Eli slid it on, pushed my legs up, and entered me, his hips working, the muscles in his arms bunched where he held himself up.

  My hands grasped his face, forcing him to look at me. “Your turn.”

  He laughed, the sound cut short by a groan. “God, Tansy.”

  Skin slapped skin as he pounded into me, his hand pushing my leg farther up, changing the angle.

  Suddenly, he was deeper, his pelvis meeting mine, and I cried out against the sudden pleasure that rocked me.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Eli asked.

  He pumped, harder and faster, and suddenly I was coming again, my mouth open on a scream that didn’t quite make it out of my throat.

  A minute later, Eli’s face tightened, his breath growing ragged, and I braced myself, the pleasure-waves receding, my eyes on his face when he came.

  He groaned his release, his lips capturing mine, kissing me until I was breathless, and my body arched toward his, keeping him with me.

  “That,” he gasped, “wasn’t why I brought you here.”

  I smiled, my heart racing, his body still joined with mine. “Liar.”

  Slowly, he pulled out of me, quickly discarding the condom before returning to pull my sated body against his hard, muscled frame.

  I caressed his face, my hand catching on the stubble there, my fingers tracing his lips, my gaze not quite meeting his.

  “I love you,” I said, because it seemed the right thing to say at the moment.

  “I love you, too, roof girl.”

  I hadn’t expected him to say it back, and I froze, my eyes on his lips, willing him to say it again.

  He stroked my back, his fingers sweeping the curve of my buttocks before climbing up my spine again. “I really didn’t bring you here for sex,” he repeated. “I brought you here because this is a very Tansy-like place. The trees, the flowers, the creek, and the garden beyond the deck. You are so much like that garden. Wild and free when you’re not being held back.”