Julia Church finally calms down and the sobbing quiets. She holds her son back and looks over his face. Gauze wraps around the top half of his head, covering his eyes, secured by white medical tape. The sterile bandages contrast with his dark blonde, sand-colored hair and tanned skin. Aislin knows his denim blue eyes are concealed within them as well. She wishes she could see the fierce blue right now and prays he will again soon. But more so, that he will see her in the future as well. She would give up her own vision to let him see again. Her heart clenches at the thought of him being blinded for the rest of his life. He is so young.
Julia blows her red nose into a Kleenex and motions Aislin forward. “Honey, someone’s here to see you.” Julia smiled and blew the other nostril.
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this, Mom. Just tell them to leave.” His deep voice resonates through the yard to Aislin and her heart sinks. He doesn’t want to see her. Or, he doesn’t want her to see him. She wants to run to him, throw her arms around him, kiss his soft, strong lips and feel his arms around her waist. Wants to smell his fresh scent mixed with something uniquely Gabe. She wants him to want her, too.
“Gabe?” She says quietly, hoping he will change his mind.
“Shit.” His head sinks onto his chest. “Go home, Mac. I don’t want you to see me like this.” He hangs his head, shaking it slightly, his upper lip curled up in disgust.
Julia and Jacob turn to look at her. Their brows knit together betraying the concern they are attempting to hide behind nervous smiles in her direction. Julia holds up a finger, motioning for her to wait a moment and she guides her son into their home. Aislin stands alone, tears streaming down her face, when a she hears footsteps approaching from behind her. She turns, swiping a tear, and comes face to face with her nightmare come true. Rick Peterson. Dressed in a wife-beater and khaki shorts, he stands before her barefooted, leaning against his old rust-colored Chevelle. His hairline has drastically receded and patchy mousy brown hair dots the top of his head. Rick’s nose is crooked, obviously having been broken before and not properly set. His cold dark brown eyes bore into her. To say that she is frightened is an understatement. She is gripped by terror. Her feet are frozen and save for the tremors that erupt and the goose bumps that appear on her skin, she is unable to move at all. Rick’s thin lips are pressed into something between a smirk, a sneer and a smile.
“Hey, princess,” he coos. It had been his pet name for her and she had always hated it. She was a teenager when she and Declan had arrived at the Peterson residence. His term of endearment always seemed inappropriate and often made her uncomfortable.
“Rick.” She grinds out between clenched teeth. How dare he even speak to her? Is he crazy? Does he not recall what Declan promised to do to him if he ever came near her again? Aislin’s stomach rolls. Declan isn’t here. The realization flashes over her face causing Rick’s smile to spread.
“Been a long time, Aislin.” He steps toward her and his fingers toy with a piece of her auburn hair. “Still feisty, I see. I always did love that about you. You know, we never finished the conversation that your brother so rudely interrupted before you left here.”
With her heart pounding against her chest, Aislin meets his beady brown eyes. She is convinced they are the eyes of Lucifer. At one time, she would have run to Declan for help. Not now. She is alone. Time to stand up to him by herself, she decides. Aislin knocks his hand away from her hair.
“Don’t touch me, Rick,” she yelled, spittle flying toward him. He bursts out laughing at her attempt at bravery. If only he knew it isn’t an act. At this point, Julia opens the front door and yelled for Aislin. She steps backward keeping her eyes on the creep until she is a safe distance away before she turns and heads onto the porch and disappears into the Church’s living room.
Julia ushers Aislin into the kitchen and asks her to take a seat at their small oak table. The two women sit silently and sip on sweet tea. Julia clears her throat and says, “Aislin, he doesn’t want to see anyone right now.” She gives Aislin an apologetic smile but continues. “I have no vacation left since we spent two weeks in Florida this summer and Jacob has a conference to attend in Houston next week. All the arrangements are made and he can’t back out.” She sighs heavily. “Is there any way—“
“Mrs. Church, Gabe is welcome to stay with me or if he is more comfortable, I can stay here with him. Let him decide. It’s no problem at all. He’s my best friend and I want to be here for him and help him. I never got a chance to help Declan…” she trailed off.
Julia sniffs. “I know, dear. And I know he is being stubborn but if you could help us, we would really appreciate it. I haven’t spoken with him yet, but there is no alternative and I’m sure he’ll agree. Can you wait here while I go talk to him?”
Aislin nods and Julia’s footsteps trail up the steps and down the hallway to the room Aislin knows is Gabe’s. Aislin covers her hands in her face and breathes heavily. She hopes he will be okay with all of this.
†
After his mom and dad explain that they cannot take off work to be with him in the coming weeks, Gabe relents and agrees to allow Aislin to help. After Julia packs his suitcase, the two head back to Mingo County. The trip is spent in silence, an uncomfortable tension sparking between the two friends. It is early evening when they pull into the driveway. Aislin takes Gabriel’s hand and with her other grabs his suitcase and wheels it up the small concrete pathway to her front porch. After she unpacks his things in her guestroom downstairs, she leaves him to go prepare dinner.
It isn’t long before the aromas of cooking chicken and fettuccini alfredo sauce filter through the house. Gabriel lies back on the bed, hands clasped behind his head, feet on the floor. He can hear the clang of pots and pans from the direction of the kitchen. He concentrates. A soft, sweet song fills his ears. Aislin is singing while she prepares dinner. His lips lift in a small smile. Gabriel imagines her in a simple t-shirt, jean cut-offs, barefooted with her mahogany hair in a messy bun singing while she stirs something on the stove. Of course, it’s just a fantasy. He can’t see what she is wearing, or what she is actually doing. Then the thought of her in the same clothes, singing while she cooks, greeting him when he enters the house, his hands on her swollen belly, ripe with their child, flood in. He forces those thoughts far away.
Gabe slowly pulls himself up and then stands. He puts his hands out and starts toward the doorway, or where he thinks it is, anyway. Feeling his way down the hall, he slowly pads toward the songbird in the kitchen. One thing is for certain, Aislin can sing. The Adele song she is crooning with her sultry, smoky voice is as sweet to his ears as a sucker to the mouth of a child. He feels his way to the small counter that separates the kitchen from the living room area and sits on one of the wooden barstools. Sounds emanate from the stove area directly across from where he is seated.
A loud clang, followed by a string of curses indicate that Aislin has taken notice of his presence in her kitchen. “Crap! Gabe, you scared me to death! You’re blind. How are you so damn stealthy?”
“It’s my mad ninja skills, babe.” He smirks.
She mutters. “Mad ninja skills. I’ll show you mad ninja skills if you ever sneak up on me again like that…” and trails off mumbling something else.
“Smells good, Mac.”
“Thanks. Hopefully it will taste as good as it smells.” The sizzling chicken and boiling of the water fill his ears, followed by the clink of something glass. Plates or drinking glasses, he supposes.
He clears his throat. “Listen, Mac. Thanks for helping me out like this. I know it’s an imposition and I really appreciate it.”
“Gabriel Church. You do not have to thank me and your presence is never an imposition. You are my best friend and I know if the situation were reversed, you’d take care of me, too.” Though he couldn’t see her, he imagined her standing the way she always does when she gets miffed, hand on one jutted-out hip, head cocked to the side. He figured she had even waved a
wooden spoon at him during her little speech.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gabriel’s laugh fills the room. Boy she is sassy! He imagines her pillowy pink lips pursed together and remembers how those lips felt pressed against his own. He tries to shake the thought from his mind. Easier said than done, though. He’s thought of little else but her since that hot and heavy make-out session. It had been obvious that she wanted to take things further, but how far he wasn’t sure. Gabriel knew of Aislin’s promise to her brother, one that they both had taken very seriously.
Declan made her promise him that she would remain a virgin until she was married. Though extremely uncommon and old-fashioned, Aislin had understood his reasoning and promised to fulfill the only thing he had ever requested from her. She had told Gabe that it was the least she could do for Declan, after all he had sacrificed for her. Maybe, Gabriel supposed, that’s why Ty’s unfaithfulness stung Aislin so hard. Ty had been unwilling to wait for her.
The two shared a quiet dinner at the kitchen bar after Aislin arranged things one at a time for Gabriel to memorize their location. Drink at the top left at 11 o’clock. Napkin and silverware, on the plate’s right hand side at 3 o’clock. Salt and Pepper between their plates at 1 o’clock. After dinner, Gabriel stands and bids Aislin goodnight and makes his way back to his room without assistance, figuring that he will need to memorize how many steps it takes to move around in the house so that he can be more independent during his stay. Seven. Seven steps from barstool to his bedroom door.
Chapter 9
The following morning is a glorious one. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. Aislin, dressed in a fitted white Marshall t-shirt and cut-off shorts that are frayed at the bottom, is watering her flowers on her front porch. She hears the crunching of footsteps on the gravel driveway and looks up to find Jeremiah walking toward her. Her heart leaps. She hadn’t seen him since she had broken things off and certainly wasn’t expecting his visit. He approaches with a confident swagger, hands in the pockets of his dark denim jeans, a white t-shirt stretched over his chest.
His blonde hair is shorter than the last time she’d seen it. He climbs one of the steps to her porch and stops. “Aislin.” One side of his mouth pulls up in a smirk.
“Jeremiah.” Aislin grabs the broom she’d brought out with her, just in case. She certainly isn’t above beating him with a broom if the need arises. She stands straighter and looks him in the eye.
“I’ve been thinking about you.” He looks up at her intensely.
“Okay.”
“I think we should give this another chance,” he says, motioning between the two of them. “I know that my behavior freaked you out and believe me, I’m really sorry. I was just really stressed out with some things going on in my family. I should never have taken it out on you, baby.” He steps onto the main landing and positions himself directly in front of her. Aislin blows out a breath as he steps closer and grabs a piece of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, massaging it gently.
Aislin steps away from him, her hair falling from his grasp. She positions the broom in front of her chest and clears her throat. “Jeremiah, I don’t think so. I just don’t feel right about us. About you. I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I would love to be friends, but you and I will never happen.”
His confident smile dropped and his lips press together, hardening immediately. Aislin can see the vein in his neck begin to pulse faster and his jaw clench. She hears the grinding sounds of his molars. He stands still, his cold ice-blue eyes bearing down on her.
Aislin doesn’t back down, though. She won’t let him intimidate her anymore. Never again, she reminds herself. Surviving Rick Peterson’s abuse had been more than anyone should ever have had to endure and she sure as hell wasn’t about to take any bullshit from anyone else, especially Jeremiah. She doesn’t love him. Doesn’t owe him a damn thing.
“Look, Jeremiah. I know that you like me and—”
“Like you,” he growled, moving forward lightning fast, his hand grabbing her bicep like a python striking its dinner. “I don’t just like you, Aislin. I am in love with you. Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? I love you. And I want to be with you. Forever.”
Aislin tries to wrench her arm out of his grasp to no avail. “Let go of me, Jeremiah. You’re hurting me.” Her teeth clench together.
“No. You will listen to what I have to say. I love you. I want to be with you. I,” he exhales loudly and puts his face directly into hers. “I want you. Hell, I want to marry you!” he yells.
“You what? You are insane. We barely know each other. You don’t love me and I’m definitely not marrying you. Let me go,” she grunts and finally frees her arm from his talons. Damn if it doesn’t hurt, too. She backs toward the door and her fingers find the handle of her broom by themselves as Aislin keeps her eyes trained on Stone.
“This isn’t over. We are not over, Aislin. You can’t just stop loving someone. And there’s no way G.I. fucking Joe in there is going to take you from me. I’ll...” He trails off and begins to quickly pace back and forth on the porch.
“Yeah, well, you can’t make someone love you, either. And, I don’t love you, Jeremiah.” Aislin’s heart pounds violently in her chest.
“You don’t actually think he loves you, do you?” He motions toward the door. “You’re pathetic. He only wants one thing from you. He’ll get it and leave. But, I love you. Believe what you want, Aislin. This isn’t over. Not by a fucking long shot.” Jeremiah gives her a withering glare before stalking back to his car and pulling out of her driveway, traveling back toward his own house.
Aislin grasps her chest. There is much she could be upset about. His having man-handled her. His profession of love and the fact that he wants to marry her. The way his eyes pierced her, like needles on her flesh. But, none of these were as upsetting to her as her own words.
She walks over and collapses onto her porch swing, rocking gently, her hand still gripping her shirt above her heart. You can’t make someone love you, she had said. In that instant, she realizes she had been not only speaking to Jeremiah. She’d been speaking to herself. Gabriel doesn’t love her. And, there was nothing she could do about it.
†
Gabriel exits his bedroom and can hear the birds of the morning chirping cheerfully. He hears the sound of a car approaching and passing the house. What he doesn’t hear is Aislin. She isn’t in the house. He listens and hears voices from the porch and begins to move that direction, feeling his way to the door. Stone. What the hell is that ass hat doing here?
He hears the conversation becoming more heated and then footsteps as Stone leaves. Gabriel listens. The squeaking of the chains holding up the wooden porch swing fills the air. He moves over and sits next to his best friend and pulls her into a hug. Gabriel clenches his teeth and fists simultaneously once he lets Mac go. He is suddenly glad that he is staying with Mac for the next few weeks. Maybe his presence will deter Stone from approaching her again.
Jeremiah sure as hell won’t have her, Gabriel decides. He will protect Aislin with his life. He loves her, as a best friend, of course. He can’t let his action or feelings veer from that road again.
“This is so crazy, Gabe. I’m scared. I never told you what happened the last time I saw Jeremiah.”
†
Amy wears the top half of her platinum blonde hair pulled back, the lower half cut sharply along her jaw, angling toward her chin. Her toes are painted hot pink, matching her bikini. Aislin wonders if her toes always coordinate with her outfits. She looks down at her own toe nails. They aren’t painted but are short, and cared for.
Aislin pushes her sunglasses up onto her head. Her long hair sits in a messy bun, although some pieces have managed to escape. She adjusts her chair’s back and sits up. Amy looks like she is asleep, so she doesn’t make any noise. She adjusts her navy blue bikini top and stands before adjusting the bottom and wrapping a white towel around her waist. She moves over to where Parker and Gabriel si
t, near the grill, each with legs outstretched and spread and each with a Corona in hand. Aislin’s heart skips a beat hearing Gabe’s deep laughter. It’s been awhile since she’s heard that sound. She continues to the cooler nearby and snags two Coronas and heads back to Amy.
Amy sits up and stifles a yawn as Aislin sits back down beside her. It’s hot. Though it’s almost October, it’s really hot and unseasonably humid as well. The girls down their beers and wade into the pool, relishing in the refreshingly cool water.
Amy pushes her sunglasses up as well. Her cornflower blue eyes widen, “So, what’s with you and Jeremiah Stone?”
“Nothing. We kind of dated, but it’s over now.” Aislin stares down at the bright blue chlorinated water. The coolness of the water extinguishes the fire on her skin and she sighs in relief. “God, this water feels so good.”
Amy grins. “I know, right? It’s always perfect at the end of the season. The beginning of the season it’s like swimming in ice, though.” Her tinkling laughter rings through the thick, humid air.
A sly grin spreads over Amy’s face making Aislin’s eyes grow wide. She’s seen the ornery look on her face before. “So, did you do him?”
Aislin gasps. Amy is so blunt. A lot like Ella, but she isn’t used to Amy—doesn’t know her the way she does her best friend. “Who? Jeremiah?”
“Duh.” Amy rolls her eyes. “Who else, silly? Although, I know Jaxon would love to get his hands on you. On all of you!”
“Yeah, well. I’m definitely not interested in Jaxon. I’ve had enough of that kind of love to last a lifetime. But, to answer your question, no. Jeremiah and I weren’t intimate. We did kiss, but nothing else.” She shrugs.
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