Holding Out for You

by Anna Paige

  “Phil’s always happy to help. He’s kind of great that way.”

  “Still no progress getting those two back together?” Blair asked from the back seat, referring to Phil’s split with my mom.

  “Nope. Mom’s still radio-silent on the subject, refusing to get into it any time I bring him up, and Phil talks to me about everything except the separation. When I call, he acts like it’s any other day and nothing has changed.”

  “That’s good, though. At least they aren’t putting you in the middle.” This from Charli.

  I focused on the tree line as it whizzed by my window. “Honestly, I wish they would. I feel like their issue is a communication breakdown, and if they’d get their heads out of their asses long enough to realize that, everything would be fine between them.”

  “Well, if you plan to say it exactly that way, maybe it’s good they haven’t asked your opinion.” Beck snickered.

  “I call it like I see it,” I told him, unrepentant. “They’ve been together too long to let something completely repairable drive them apart. They’re both stubborn as hell and it’s getting ridiculous.”

  “Like you’re some relationship expert,” Beck said with a chuckle.

  “Ignore him,” Blair said from the back seat, reaching up to pop Beck on the back of the head. “I think you have a point, and I’m a little surprised you’re waiting for them to ask your opinion before sharing it. That’s not a very Ashton thing to do.”

  “I’m a very patient person, Blair. You have no idea how patient I can be,” I said pointedly, eyeing her in the mirror on my visor. “I’ve been known to wait years—years—for the right time to say what’s on my mind.”

  She blushed and sat back without further comment, a small smile on her perfect mouth.

  Becker cut his eyes in my direction, but he too declined to comment.

  He and I would be having our long-overdue talk eventually, but it didn’t appear today would be the day, since he basically ignored the long looks I’d been sharing with his sister.

  “So, this cabin . . .” Charli changed the subject. “It has running water and stuff, right? I mean, it’s not one of those old shacks like in old movies, is it? The ones where you need a stick and a flashlight to take a sh—”

  “You’ve been here before,” Blair cut in, but she didn’t sound so sure.

  “Nuh-uh. I’d remember.”

  I thought about it for a second. “No, she’s right. The summer we came up here and fished was the summer she spent at her grandparents.”

  Beck and Blair looked at one another in the rearview mirror, each nodding as they thought back.

  “That’s right. I forgot,” Blair said, skewing her mouth a little like the memory was hard to coax forth. “It was us three and Phil. He was clearing some stuff out since he’d just inherited it from his father.”

  “Grandfather, but yeah. And we tagged along to ‘help’ but when we got here, he handed us each a fishing pole and told us he had it covered.” I had to smile at the memory. As dads went, Phil was a pretty great one.

  “That sounds nice,” Charli interrupted my trip down memory lane. “But no one has clarified whether or not it has an indoor outhouse.”

  “Yes, there is indoor plumbing. Actually, Phil has upgraded it a lot in the years since it came into his possession. He’s still remodeling small things, but I think the big stuff is finished. It’s been a couple years since I’ve been out here, so I haven’t seen the new additions yet, but he says the place is looking pretty sweet.” I thought about it for a minute. “Seems like he really focused on it after the split, making little changes and upgrades. It’s way too far to commute here every day, so the apartment in town was a necessity, but he says he’s spent a lot of time working on the cabin when he can. Keeping himself busy, I guess.”

  “Staying busy is a good way to keep your mind from wandering to places you’d prefer it didn’t tread.” Becker spoke to me but eyed Blair in the mirror.

  She didn’t respond beyond a rueful nod.

  “Hey, Ash, isn’t that bait place somewhere around here?” Beck suddenly asked, scanning the road.

  “Yeah, a mile or two ahead on the right. Same old guy has been running it since Phil was a kid. He keeps odd hours, though, so we might have to track him down.”

  Sure enough, we got there and the place was closed, with a small barely-legible note taped to the door with the old man’s phone number and instructions to call—not text—for service. Beck pulled out his phone and made the call, waiting nearly ten rings before getting an answer. The old man informed us it would be at least half an hour before he could open the store but offered a discount for our trouble if we wanted to wait. Beck said we’d meet him there in thirty minutes and ended the call with a shrug.

  “Let’s at least get to the cabin and unpack the truck. One of us can come back in a few to get the bait and stuff.”

  “Works for me.”

  We climbed back into the truck and relayed the info to the girls, who’d chosen to wait rather than help shop for worms. Guess they trusted us to get everything we needed without their input.

  Ten minutes later, we arrived at the cabin. It was a decent-sized place, not horribly small but not vast by any stretch of the imagination. Tucked back off the road, not a neighbor to be found within two miles, situated at the top of a slight incline that dipped down to the lake/pond that stretched the width of the property from tree line to tree line on either side.

  Both the front and back porches were covered and there were weathered wooden rockers on both, along with an ancient metal sofa-sized glider on the back porch that had belonged to Phil’s grandmother. It had been one of the first things he restored, a tribute to her.

  I remembered the last time I’d been here, sitting on that glider watching Phil replace the line on the old fishing pole he always used. Mom had been at some banking thing out of town, so Phil decided it would be a guys only weekend. Just me and him.

  We fished and ate junk food. He sneaked me a beer or two even though I was underage at the time. Even at seventeen, when most guys would be miserable having to hang out with an adult, I appreciated the time there with him. Maybe I’d spent a lot of my teen years being an asshole—there was no maybe about it, I was an asshole—but when Phil asked me to join him for a father-son weekend, I didn’t hesitate.

  Having someone who wasn’t my dad working so hard to be a good dad to me anyway . . . well, I hadn’t truly appreciated it until that moment. It was a weekend that changed my outlook on a lot of things, a catalyst that finally made me grow the fuck up and be a man instead of the petulant kid I’d turned into after my real dad took off.

  I owed Phil more than I could ever repay.

  And still, he kept giving. Like today. After I gave him the rundown of what happened on the beach, his first words were, “What can I do to help, son?”

  Then he did help.

  If only I could help him somehow.

  “Wow, this place looks great!” Blair said, leaning between the front seats. “If the outside looks this much better, I can’t wait to see what he’s done to the interior.”

  “Let’s check it out, then.” I loved hearing the excitement in her voice. There’d been a distinct lack of inflection in her speech ever since what happened. Even when she was trying to sound like herself, it was hollow somehow. The way she was eagerly nodding now, thoroughly distracted from the ugliness, this was why I asked Phil to use the cabin today. This was what we all needed.

  Blair was pulling her door open before Becker could even cut the engine, and he shot a look of relief my way as he reached over to unlatch his seat belt. “I knew she was in there.”

  “So did I.”

  Charli had absconded with Blair and together they were reaching for the tailgate to help unload.

  I jumped from the cab and shook my head when I saw them trying to drag the huge cooler from the bed of the truck. “No, no. You two get the poles and tackle boxes. Beck and I will get the c
ooler. It’s heavy as hell.”

  “We’re not weaklings, Ashton,” Charli said as she rolled her eyes.

  “Not saying you are, Charlene.” I emphasized her given name to piss her off. “It’s called being a gentleman. But if you’d rather drag a fully-loaded hundred-and twenty-quart cooler down to the dock instead of these five-pound tackle boxes, help yourself. Just remember to lift with your legs.” I folded my arms across my chest and waited.

  Blair and Charli shared a look then reached for the handles on either side of the cooler. They pulled it to the edge of the tailgate with quite a bit of effort, then Charli tried to lift her side to test the weight. “Shit, what did you put in here, bricks?”

  I didn’t reply. Just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

  “Fine, you guys take it. But not because we can’t do it, ’cause we totally could.”

  Blair had been silent through the entire exchange, going through the motions to humor her friend. Now she grinned over at me and nodded for me to come closer. “Get moving, Hercules. I want to see the inside of that cabin.”

  “Not enjoying the show, Blair-bear?” I grinned right back.

  “Nah, I much prefer to be the one giving you shit. It’s way funner.”

  “Funner? Is that some college-level English or what?” I asked with a scoff, waiting for Beck to grab his side of the cooler.

  She circled around behind me and snagged one of the two tackle boxes from the bed of the truck. “It’s a word if I say it’s a word. Professors don’t know everything. And neither do you.”

  She was teasing, tormenting, and generally acting like the Blair I remembered.

  I’d never been happier to have her talking trash.

  “Who’s going back to get the bait?” Beck asked as we hefted the cooler out of the truck and started down the incline toward the dock, circumventing the cabin altogether. Blair huffed but followed behind us instead of rushing inside.

  “Up to you, man. I can do it, if you want.”

  “Why don’t you and I go?” Charli asked, looking at Becker.

  “Why us?”

  She froze for a second as we all turned to hear her answer. Sputtering and blushing, she finally shrugged. “I don’t know. No reason, I guess.”

  There was instant remorse on his face. He didn’t mean to embarrass her, but that’s exactly what happened. “It’s fine. We can go. Let Ash give Blair the grand tour of the house she’s so excited for. We can check it out when we get back.”

  She nodded but didn’t meet his gaze, clearly still embarrassed.

  Poor thing. She couldn’t catch a break where Becker was concerned.

  I glanced over at Blair and she looked to be thinking the same thing, a sad smile on her face as she watched Charli try and recover.

  Charli couldn’t catch a break, but she’d thrown one to me and Blair. We’d get a few stolen moments together, and I was insanely happy about the prospect.

  When Blair locked eyes with me a moment later, her expression told me she knew where my mind was, and hers was right there with it.

  I couldn’t get that stupid cooler to the dock fast enough.

  Once everything was unloaded, Beck and Charli headed out while Blair and I ambled toward the house.

  We had to cover a lot of ground in only a little time, both figuratively and literally, so there wasn’t a moment to waste.

  Blair

  Ash’s hand was warm in mine as we stepped into the cabin together. We barely made it over the threshold before we both stopped in our tracks, completely taken aback by the transformation.

  Originally, this had been an old hunting cabin, complete with mounted deer heads and a scary as hell boar that I’d been terrified of when I first saw it. Phil had never hunted a day in his life, though he said his grandfather had tried repeatedly to get him to go, so it didn’t surprise me that all the critters were thankfully absent.

  It didn’t look like a typical fishing cabin, either. It was clean and bright and airy, with gleaming hardwood floors and stainless-steel appliances in the smallish kitchen to our left. The living room was gorgeous, filled with overstuffed sofas that all faced the huge stone fireplace. Above the mantle, there was a large screen television and small box that I assumed was a router. We walked over to check things out and our shoes sank deep into the thick rug that encompassed the entire living room. I had the urge to reach down and run my hands over it but somehow managed to refrain.

  “Want to check out the bedroom?” Ash asked, nodding to the short hall to our right.

  It wasn’t supposed to be a come-on, but my face heated just the same, even as I nodded and moved in that direction.

  We peeked into the bathroom as we passed, noting that it too had been redone.

  “Holy . . . wow,” I muttered as I stepped into the bedroom ahead of him. “Look at the size of that thing.”

  There was a massive, raised king-sized bed tucked against the far wall of the bedroom, leaving barely two feet on each side for one to move around. I stepped closer and ran my hand over the pristine white duvet and chuckled when I realized the mattress came all the way to my chest.

  “I’d need a rope ladder to climb into this thing.”

  Ash was silent behind me, so I turned, amusement still on my face as I caught his expression.

  The look on his face caused tiny flutters low in my belly.

  “Or I could give you a boost.” He stepped closer and his heated gaze became playful. “If that was what you wanted. Theoretically.”

  My breath hitched as he leaned into me, pressing one hand to my lower back to pull me into his chest. I went willingly, loving how his eyes widened at the sight of my tongue sweeping across my bottom lip.

  His other hand came to rest on my cheek. “I’ve been thinking about that kiss . . .”

  “What kiss? There hasn’t been a kiss that I’m aware of,” I teased, watching his lips as he smirked down at me.

  “Exactly. I’ve been thinking it’s time we change that.” He closed the distance between us but didn’t make contact. His breath tickled my lips as he held my gaze and added, “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  I nudged his nose with my own and darted my tongue out to make a feather-light sweep across my lips, readying them for him. “Yes,” I breathed against his mouth, my hands coming up to rest on his broad chest as I leaned into him further.

  The hand that cupped my cheek trembled as he pulled in a deep breath. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” The words were barely out of his mouth before his lips sealed over mine. Warm and soft, gentle in those first moments as we sighed into each other.

  His other hand came up to tangle in my hair, holding me in place but not hindering my movements as I returned his kiss. After a moment, his tongue nudged at my lips, gently pressing until I parted them and allowed him inside. He stepped forward then, pressing my back into the ridiculously tall bed as the kiss grew heated. Over and over our tongues tangled and our hands tugged at each other, as if we couldn’t get close enough.

  Unthinking, I threw my arms around his shoulders and crushed my chest against his.

  I hissed in pain, my bruised breasts—all but forgotten in the heat of the moment—aching and sending stabbing pain all the way through my chest.

  Ash’s whole body jerked back a step, breaking contact completely as concern and remorse flooded his face. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

  I just blinked up at him, not sure how he knew about the bruises.

  “I should have known this might happen. After all you went through, for me to start pawing at you like that . . . shit, baby, I’m so so sorry.”

  “Should have known what might happen?”

  “It’s okay. We can slow down. Wait until you’re ready.”

  I fought the urge to cradle my aching chest, but just barely. “I’m confused. Why are you apologizing?”

  “I wasn’t thinking about how being close like that, me grabbing you and kissing you, might trigger b
ad memories. I know that can happen, especially so soon after . . .” There was this helpless look on his face that nearly broke my heart. “I’m sorry I let it go so far.”

  I couldn’t stand to see him blaming himself, especially when he’d done nothing wrong. Much as I did not want to talk about the bruises, I couldn’t think of any other way to make him see that it wasn’t anything he’d done.

  Pulling in a big breath, I reached for his hand. “Ash, that’s not what happened. Not at all.”

  “Then why did you gasp like that? Your whole face went white, Blair.”

  “You didn’t get carried away; I did. I was so determined to get closer to you that I forgot about . . .”

  “About what, baby?”

  I blinked up at him, hating the sting of gathering tears that I knew were coming. “The bruises.”

  “Bruises?” He searched my face then winced. “Dammit, I forgot about your nose. It’s practically invisible under your makeup.”

  “My nose is fine, actually.”

  “Your cheek? I thought it was the other side. Shit, did I press too hard?”

  I shook my head, clamping my jaw shut for a moment to keep my chin from trembling. “It’s not my face.”

  He stopped, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  “When I threw my arms around your neck, I pressed really hard against you.” Clearly, he still didn’t get it, and why would he? I continued. “My breasts pressed really hard against you.”

  His gaze drifted down to my chest for a second before locking back on mine. “Why would that hurt you, Blair?” There was something in his voice then, anger maybe mixed with despair. I could see it on his face even before I said the words he must have known were coming.

  “They’re covered in bruises. He bit them, both of them. A lot.”

  Ash’s eyes fell closed at my admission, both his hands coming up to rake through his hair.