“I’m fine now that I’m warm. I just want to rest.”
“Holland told us what happened. Daddy kept talking about putting a phone in there. He was always afraid of one of us getting locked in. That was when he changed the door so it was single-chambered and you could only keep outsiders from getting in, not people inside from getting out.”
“Stop, don’t overreact. What were the odds of a damn snake taking up residency in front of the door? Well, up until now I’d say never, but that theory was just blown out of the fucking water. Besides, we use our cell phones so much, if we did have a land line, I wouldn’t remember a damn number to be able to call anyone.”
“You could always call 9-1-1,” Braden, the ever-helpful sheriff’s deputy, offered.
“But what about Tera? What about when she starts running around?” London was already frantic with worry.
“Calm down. We’ll get some snake repellent. But truthfully, snakes aren’t pack animals,” Braden said, trying to calm his wife.
“I know that, but Paris is freaked, and she is all that matters right now. If snake repellant makes her feel comfortable, then, damn it, we will put that stuff everywhere.” I met Braden’s eyes, because although London was claiming that this was for Paris, truthfully, she was the only one on the edge of hysteria. But I bit my tongue.
“Okay, okay. London, we’ll figure out something.”
London’s wide eyes whipped from me back to her sister. It was actually kind of sweet that London was wringing her hands so hard her knuckles were turning white, a mothering gesture that I’d never imagined seeing from her. “How about if I go make something to eat?” London asked. “What do you want? Just tell me, I’ll make anything."
Paris chuckled. “Y’all are exhausting me. Besides, I’m not very hungry. I’ll eat something later.”
Paris was the one who always did the cooking, canning, and kept the ranch house running. Which for the first time was going to be a problem, since I wasn’t sure if anyone else actually knew how to cook.
“Okay, just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll get you something. Braden, you’ll let me know, won’t you?” London asked as she strolled toward the door, stopping to place a peck on her husband’s lips and then her daughter’s head.
“Of course.”
“You need anything, Paris?” Braden asked before following his wife out.
“No, I’m good.” Paris shook her head, chills still racking her body. “Thanks, though.” Braden left and closed the door behind him.
“Why don’t we get you into something warm?” I pulled out a pair of socks from her top left dresser drawer. I knew where she kept those. I couldn’t count the number of times she had begged me to get her a pair of socks while I was over late and we were in her living room watching movies. The woman had the coldest feet, and I was a sucker to please her. But that was the only drawer I’d ever been in. I’d never been nosey. “I have no clue where you keep your pajamas.”
“Next drawer down. I have a blue flannel fleece set at the bottom. It’s super warm.”
Digging down, I tried to ignore the silk nightgowns, but my imagination was off to some distant corner of a world where I could see Paris in these. I pulled out the set she asked for and handed it to her. “Here you go. I’ll be right outside the door.” I stared at her for just a moment, this woman I’d fallen in love with sometime over the last twenty-nine years of my life. Reaching forward, I trailed a thumb across her cheek, and she curled in toward my hand like a cat trying to encourage petting.
“God, your hands feel so good, so warm.”
I was going to pass out, right here. My head felt faint, and my pants suddenly felt too tight . . . right in the crotch. I needed to get out of there before she looked down and saw my growing erection. I was as bad as some fourteen-year-old, all because of her sigh, her moan. And the feel of her velvety-smooth skin, which was still cold to the touch and a stark contrast to mine, had me on fire.
“Hurry, I’ll be in the hall.” Rushing to the door, I closed it as I stepped out of the room. When I was safely out in the hallway, I rested my head against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to get everything under control. I’d never been so afraid as I was seeing that rattlesnake and then realizing she was blocked. Fucking worried about her, worried about how long she’d been in the freezer, worried about the possibility of losing her to something like a snake bite. Paris and I had been playing this game long enough, and I knew I just needed to come out and tell her how I felt.
I blew out a deep breath and looked at the picture hanging on the wall across from me. It was of the first year I decided that I was too big to dress up for Halloween, but Paris still wanted to dress up. I smiled at the memory and moved to the next photo, it was from a school play, I could remember exactly which one, maybe first or second grade. She was so damn cute. Fuck, what was her name in that play . . . oh, Mrs. Wishy Washy.
I had just moved to the third photo when she called me. “Okay, you can come in.”
When I opened the door, I was stunned, my breath was taken away, not because of what she was wearing, but because of the girl herself. My Paris in plain old pajamas with a smile on her face, despite the hell she had just been through.
“Get into bed.” I moved next to her bed and pulled back the covers so she could crawl back under them. Then I waited for her to right herself and prop her back against the headboard before I pulled the covers back up and tucked them around her.
I took two steps toward the chair she kept in the corner of her room before she stopped me. “Come over here with me.” Paris patted the bed.
“I can sit in the chair.”
“No, please, I want you with me. I need your body heat.”
God, did she not know what she was doing to me? I was stretched tighter than a fucking drum. Rolling my neck back and forth, I straightened my shoulders and then crawled next to her but stayed on top of the covers.
Fuck, this wasn’t such a great idea because she could see how hard my dick was, all because of her.
“I was so scared, Asher. I had no clue if you were going to find me. I didn’t know when London or Holland would be home. I was afraid I was going to freeze to death.”
I sat up, turned to position myself, and faced her. Reaching forward, I gripped Paris’s shoulders. “Don't you get it? I'll always be here for you. I will always find you.”
“Yeah, but how was I supposed to know that? You weren’t supposed to be coming by, Holland was out, and London was at her in-laws. I really had no clue what I would have done had you not shown up.”
“Well, I did, so that’s all that matters. But don't ever leave the house without your cell phone again, okay?”
“I was just running out to the freezer. I go out there all the time.”
“But considering everything that happened last year, everything with Ryan, I figured you’d be a little more cautious.”
“Ryan’s in jail. Plus, he wanted London, not me.”
I shook my head, because she wasn’t getting the point. Last year, their long-time ranch-hand became obsessed with London after she started dating Braden. “I would've thought that just watching what London went through would be enough to scare the shit out of you. Don’t go anywhere, not even to the mailbox without a phone. Promise me, Paris. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. Promise me.”
“Okay, I promise.”
Satisfied with her answer, I leaned back and made myself comfortable, letting Paris curl up next to me. Holding her in my arms, I trailed my fingers up and down, watching the tiny goosebumps appear like ripples in the waves.
“Paris, can I talk to you about something?”
“Of course.”
“It’s been on my mind for a long time, but after today, I think I need to lay it all out there. The thought of losing you, I can’t handle it.” I felt my heart pick up its pace and my fingers stuttered in the journey over her skin. “We’re best friends, but I think we could b
e more than that. I think I’ve always known, but the first time I felt it, we were in middle school—”
“Asher, don't do this . . .”
“Why not? I’m in love with you, and I’m pretty sure you’re in love with me.”
Paris shook her head, holding her hand up against her mouth.
“Paris, I'm in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. We are meant to be together. Haven’t you ever wondered why you’ve never found anyone? Or, hell, why I never found anyone? It isn’t because the person I’m supposed to be with is out there somewhere. It’s because the person I am supposed to be with has been right in front of me all along. It’s always been you for me. I love you so fucking much.”
“Why are you doing this? I can’t. I can’t lose you.”
“What are you talking about? You won’t lose me. We’ve been together our entire lives. I don’t have a single memory that doesn’t involve you. How do you not see this, Paris? Prom? It was us. Graduation? Us. First kiss? That was us too. My college graduation? You and me. Everything has been about us. A team. I thought you were seeing it too.”
“There is no us. I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just friends.”
“You don’t mean that. I know you feel something more.”
“We’re friends. That’s all. Best friends, but best friends aren’t lovers. You goof off with your best friend, you joke with your best friend, but just because you’re best friends with someone, that doesn’t automatically mean you’re going to marry them.”
“I know that, but you and me? We’re different. No one would have a stronger relationship than we would.” I wanted to shake her. Reach up and grab her perfect damn shoulders and just shake some sense into her.
“But what if it doesn’t work out? I’d lose everything. I’d lose you.”
She didn’t get it. I was offering her all of myself, and she was too worried about the what-ifs to see it. “You won’t lose me, you would never lose me, Paris. I’m in love with you. You can’t tell me that you didn’t know it.”
“Stop saying that. You may love me, but you aren’t in love with me, Asher. Maybe you’re in love with the idea of being in love and I’m just convenient, but friends can’t be lovers. I refuse to throw away a lifetime of friendship because you can’t tell the difference.”
“I’m pretty sure I know exactly how I feel, but tell me about why you think it wouldn’t work, why you won’t even give us a shot.”
“My parents had been friends before they got married, and look how that ended. Divorce. My dad died with a broken heart, and I have no clue where my mother is.”
“Don’t you get it? Your parents’ relationship was not the end-all, be-all of relationships, and you shouldn’t use it as a status quo. My parents were friends, and look at them, they were married more than fifty years. Wake up and look around. You are taking one failure and making that the bar by which you measure all relationships. It isn’t fair. God, if your mom were here right now, I’d be tempted to hit her just for planting those things in your head, and I’ve never hit a woman. But damn it, Paris, you’re being ridiculous. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking that love is supposed to be a certain way. Well, it isn’t, it’s different for each person, each couple.”
Paris let out a heart-wrenching sob. “I’m more like my mom than you know, than obviously your mom knows.”
“You aren’t anything like her.” I was fighting to control my temper.
“I’m such a jealous person. I’m so jealous of everyone. God, I love my sister, she means everything to me, but I’m having such a hard time being around her. She has everything I want. I'm so jealous that she has it when she's the one who never wanted it.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re like your mom. That means you want to be a mom. You want babies. You’ll be a fabulous mother and a wonderful wife. You love me, Paris, I know you do, I feel it.”
Paris adamantly shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I don’t want kids.”
“Paris, stop. Yes, you do, you’ve always wanted children. You can have them—hell, you can have anything you’ve ever wanted. All you need to do is find the guts to go after it. To take off the damn blinders and see that everything you’ve ever wanted is right here in front of you.”
“No, Asher. You’re my best friend. I feel safe with you. But that isn’t enough.” Tears were streaming down her face, but I no longer cared if she cried or not. “I love you, I’m not in love with you. There’s a big difference. I want that burning passion that a couple in love is supposed to have. We’re just friends, and we’ll only ever be friends.”
I stood, fighting not to say something that I would regret later. Fuck that, I could do with a little regret in my life. “Maybe you’re right.” Paris stared at me, eyes red and swollen as she waited for me to finish my sentence. “Maybe you are just like your mom. Too stubborn and too afraid to keep something you don’t deserve.”
Paris let out a whoosh of air, and I didn’t care if my words hurt her. I was too busy thinking of how I was going to pull out the knife she’d jammed into my heart.
Paris
Saturday
My alarm went off at five the next morning. Stretching to reach the buzzer, I groaned as my muscles finally made themselves and everything they’d been through yesterday known. I couldn’t remember my legs ever being so sore, but then again, I couldn’t remember a time when I ever had to stand at attention for so long. It was probably a combination of the fear, the cold, and the stress.
Rolling back over, I pulled a pillow on top of my head and tried to forget the anger that had been on Asher’s face yesterday. The hurt that had crossed every inch of his once-upon-a-time smile.
What he had proposed was ridiculous and completely out of the blue. I knew that it had changed our friendship irrevocably, that by wanting to preserve our friendship, I had ruined it.
That he had ruined it by saying those things.
By not understanding.
I felt the first tears starting to bubble up inside of me again. This time, I let them fall, soaking my pillowcase, exhausting my worn-out mind to go with my exhausted body.
Sunday
Someone opened my bedroom door, but I couldn’t be bothered enough to open my eyes or demand they go away.
“Paris, honey, you want something to eat?” London asked. I didn’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or do anything. And I most certainly didn’t want to eat.
“No.”
“I’m going to call the doctor, okay?”
“No. Just leave me alone.”
“I can’t, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t. Go away. You have your own family. You have a husband and baby. Just go, leave me alone. Go. Get out, leave me alone!” I continued raising my voice until I heard the door shut.
No one understood what I was going through; they didn’t get it. Asher had been the closest thing I had to . . . a brother. No, that wasn’t right. The closest thing to a husband . . . no. That wasn’t right either. I didn’t know what he had been, other than my best friend, and I’d lost him, which made it feel as if a small part of me had died.
Monday
“Okay, time to get up. Enough. Not sure what’s going on, but you need to let us help you.” London’s voice was piercing. I wasn’t sure whether to muffle my ears or cover my eyes from the bright sun peering in through the windows.
“Close those curtains.”
“Nope. It looks like a freaking mausoleum in here.” London’s chirpy voice was really getting on my fucking nerves.
“Ugh,” I groaned as Holland pulled back my covers, exposing me to the cool, conditioned air before hopping onto the middle of my bed.
“I brought you some coffee and toast. You haven’t eaten in three days.”
Fine. Maybe if I did what they wanted, they would leave me alone again. I pushed up to sitting and took the plate Ho
lland offered.
“What’s going on? This has to be more than being scared by a snake. We haven’t seen Asher in days. Did you and he have a fight?” London asked as she sat next to Holland.
I took a bite, and I swore to god it took me forever to get it down because I had a lump right in the middle of my throat. “I don’t think Asher’s ever going to talk to me again.”
“Why? What happened?” London’s voice softened.
“He told me that he loves me.”
“Why are you crying about that? Of course he loves you. That man has loved you all his life. We all could see it.”
“Because I told him that I don’t feel the same way about him.”
“You what?” Holland jumped up, her voice rising. “Are you an idiot?”
“Calm down, Holland, let Paris explain.” London tugged on Holland’s arm and pulled her back to the bed. “Is there someone else?”
“No.” I shook my head, tears splashing. “Not yet, at least, but I want there to be. I want someone who sweeps me off my feet. I want that burning desire that you see in movies. I don’t feel that for Asher.”
“Paris, that is the most ridiculously naive thing I’ve ever heard. You have no clue what burning passion feels like, yet you are assuming you can’t have that with Asher without even trying. You’re so blind that you can’t even see what’s in front of your face.”
London’s words might as well have been a whip, the way they lashed out against me.
“Leave me alone. I want to go back to sleep. I take care of you guys every day. I have for my entire fucking life, can I not have one week to just be tired?”
“I think that's the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Well, just goes to show how little you know me. I’m a very selfish, self-centered person. You would hate me if you knew the thoughts inside my head, just like Asher hates me.”
“I could never hate you. And I don’t—not for one second—believe that Asher hates you. He may be mad or hurt, but the man could never hate you.”
Slow Burn: Iron Horse Series Page 4