Redemption

by Rebecca Sharp

  I would’ve paid ten times what I had if it meant I got to see the way her eyes widened ever so slightly.

  “This is… incredible,” she breathed. “You did all this?”

  “No.” I chuckled. Sober or not, I’d never be that handy. “I hired people who know what they’re doing. But now that most of the big renovations—floor, roof, walls—are almost done, I’m helping where I can. Actually, I don’t mind it.” I nodded down at the containers of spackle that were here waiting for me, “I’m currently in the middle of spackling this wall. That’s my goal for today.”

  She gaped at me. “I can’t picture you spackling.” Biting her lip adorably as she laughed.

  “Well, I’m not the man who left Nashville five months ago, that’s for sure,” I drawled somewhat cryptically.

  I’d meant it as a good thing, yet the worry that flashed over her face had me rethinking both the words and my tone.

  Before I could say anything, she turned back to the window and asked, “And there’s a deck?”

  I’d almost forgotten about the patio. Two tiers of decking led out even closer to the cliffs above the ocean. There would be a pergola over the first level and then open on the second.

  “Yeah,” I answered, walking toward her. “We still need to lay the rest of the trek there”—I pointed to the one corner that wasn’t finished—“and then, there will be a pergola over this first part.”

  “You could cover it with twinkle lights,” she offered with a half-smile. “Like a little cluster of stars on the coast.”

  I blinked because I could envision it exactly as she said. She’d been here all of two minutes and suggested something that hinted she could see this place like I did, like a light in the darkness.

  “Yeah… maybe,” I replied gruffly. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, bright green glancing up at me. “It’s going to be so beautiful, Ash.”

  I began to reach for her before I realized what I was doing. Thankfully, I did realize—and I realized in time to stop myself.

  In that moment, nothing had felt more natural to me than to want to pull her into my arms and rest my chin on her head while we looked out over our future. Nothing. Only she wasn’t mine to touch and the future I was looking at didn’t involve her.

  At least in the long run.

  “I should go,” she continued quietly.

  “I left the house open, so you can go back if you want—”

  “No.” Her soft laugh was like a sad lullaby. “I mean that I should go. Like I shouldn’t have come to you. I shouldn’t have imposed like this—”

  “Tay,” I cut her off as I grabbed her small hand, stunned by its softness and shocked by the heat it sent raging through me. I’d pictured these hands a lot over the years. Holding them. Touching them. Them touching me. “You’re not leaving. You’re my sister’s best friend, practically part of my family. If you came to me because you need me, Pixie, I’m not going to let you go.”

  I’d forgotten about the nickname I gave her until the moment it slipped from my lips, needing her to know how serious I was.

  I didn’t know why that last promise sounded a little more permanent than the situation it should have been referring to, but the way her pert lips parted suggested she heard it, too.

  “No, Ash, you don’t have to.” Her voice wavered because even she didn’t believe the words she spoke. “I don’t have to stay with you. I can get a hotel. I can do something. I’m sorry. It was a moment of weakness. I just never planned on all this.” Her voice caught, and I knew she was instantly on the verge of tears. “I don’t need to impose on your life; you obviously have a lot going on. I didn’t realize… You didn’t tell anyone…”

  She drew an unsteady breath, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her against my chest like I could squeeze the guilt out of her.

  “You don’t need to let me just because I’m Blake’s friend or because of what happened with her and Zach…”

  “That’s not why I’m doing this,” I growled, releasing her hand to tip her face up to mine; there was going to be no mistake about my life here or my actions. “That’s not how this town works. That’s not how I work,” I broke off, my jaw tensing as I stepped toward her, eliminating almost all of the dead space between us.

  “When I came here, I needed a new, safe place, too. And if that ornery old man you met at the coffee shop who directed you here had turned me away, well, I… I don’t know what would have happened. So, no, this isn’t out of guilt. This is because at some point, we all need something… someone to lean on. And if you need to lean on me, Tay, I can do that. I will be strong with you… for you. Not for anyone else or because of anyone else. For you.”

  My head drifted closer to hers. Unstoppable like clouds that followed the breeze.

  The way her mouth parted didn’t just look like it was made for mine, her lips looked like they were incomplete without me.

  But the small hitch in her breath stopped me short.

  What the hell was I doing?

  I jerked back and, releasing her chin, walked back over to where the spackle was waiting for me. Nice, simple spackle.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was almost as quiet as the steps she took toward me.

  I grunted in response, about to suggest again that she could go back and take a nap on the couch while I figured out just how the hell this situation was going to work.

  But I didn’t get a chance when she asked, “Do you want some help?”

  My body tightened feeling her close to me again. Being in her vicinity lit the fuse to a bomb which would inevitably go off if I didn’t find some way to diffuse it.

  “I’ll be okay. I’m a master spackler by now.” I picked up some plaster on the spatula and layered it on the drywall with a splat. “You should get some rest.” I glanced back, my eyes instinctively settling on her stomach.

  Way to be obvious, Ash-hole.

  “I’m pregnant, not dying,” she teased. “You might as well let me help, now that I’m here.”

  “Now that you’re staying, you mean?”

  She gulped. “Now that I’m staying, the least I can do is help you.” She reached down for the other spatula. “Plus, it’ll get done faster.”

  I brought the spatula to my nose and sniffed, searching for any scent of chemicals. Was it safe for a pregnant woman to be around spackling?

  Fuck if I knew.

  Cursing, I yanked my hand away when a spot of it brushed on the tip of my nose, causing Taylor to start shaking with laughter.

  “It’s fine, Ash,” she reassured me and began to layer the thick white material onto the drywall.

  “You sure you know how to work that thing?” I grunted, wiping off my nose as she spread the goop around.

  The eye-roll she sent me, the one made to make me feel ridiculous for asking, that was the Taylor I knew. I mean, mostly everything about her was still the Taylor I knew—from the way she dressed to her eagerness to help to her attention to the small details and the way she always found a way to make an idea better—like the twinkle lights.

  It didn’t end with the eye-roll, though.

  “We… my family and I and people from our church… would go on mission trips every summer for as long as I can remember,” she spoke as we worked side-by-side, gently layering along the seams and nail holes in the new walls.

  I recalled how we saw less of her during the summer. Blake even tried to invite her to the beach with our family a few times, but with no success. No wonder my sister was always trying to hang out with Zach and me over summer breaks… because her best friend was off saving the world.

  “Various countries. Sometimes in the states, too. Our church had a volunteer program similar to Habitat for Humanity, and my parents always signed us up. So, moral of the story, is I’ve got spackle skills.”

  I chuckled. “Did you like it?”

  “Oh, yes.” I loved the way her short hair bobbed every time
she nodded, like it was trying to make sure the small gesture from such a tiny person was acknowledged. “To see how little some people live with… to see how happy and grateful they are… And to help give them something considered so basic here… There are no words for it.”

  Her enjoyment was clear as day, but it didn’t hide there was still a cloud that drifted over her face.

  But before I could ask, she turned the conversation to me. “Was this what you came out here to do?”

  I thought for a moment, knowing I needed to tread carefully with my response.

  “I came out here to do something for myself,” I began with a very vague but very true statement. “And this is where it led me.”

  She nodded, absorbing the fact. Like the rest of my family, Tay only had a vague idea that I was out here working a new job and doing alright. I knew that was the case because that was all I told Blake or my parents when I checked in with them.

  “Was building a restaurant always your dream?” She went right for the sucker-punch.

  “I don’t know about always, but it is now.”

  It was hard to remember my dreams before. They felt like needles in a haystack, buried under everyone else’s goals and blurred together with alcohol. And, in the process of trying to make those I cared about stand out from the crowd, I’d gone blind to the sight of my own aspirations.

  She paused and her attention on the wall turned to me. “Why was your address that coffee shop?”

  I laughed. “I helped out at Roasters when I was new in town and didn’t have a very… permanent… living situation. And when I bought this place, it was just easier to let what little mail I got continue to go there.”

  We worked for a while in focused silence, settling into the situation—into our new reality. Concentrating on a simple, repetitive task was like pushing your thoughts through a filter system. With each smaller grade of mesh, the bigger, distracting irrationalities were filtered out until it was only small, simple truths which were left.

  That’s what I’d found Carmel Cove to be—the finest filter, leaving nothing but love, loyalty, and support behind.

  We’d almost finished the largest expanse of the wall when I admitted that her spackle skills far surpassed mine; I wasn’t the least bit surprised.

  About to comment on it as she bent down to reload, I saw her gaze fog and her head sway as she rose back up. A second later, her body followed suit and she stumbled to the side with a soft groan.

  Dropping my spatula onto the floor I lunged for her and gripped her arms, holding her upright before she could topple over.

  “Shit,” I swore. “I’m an idiot.”

  She yelped when I hoisted her up into my arms and made for the door.

  “Ash! What are you—”

  “You’re done helping for today,” I bit out, kicking the door shut behind us as I carried her back down the path to my shack.

  “Wait, no—” she cried. “I’m fine. It was just a head rush!”

  “You just got here, Taylor. You just traveled all night and all morning to show up practically crying at my front door. I shouldn’t have let you out here when you’re exhausted and pregnant; you need to rest.”

  “Pregnant but not handicapped,” she shot back, fierceness lighting up her green eyes.

  “Well, then consider me too dumb to have remembered that fact when I saw you about to pass out,” I retorted.

  She huffed, her small, soft form sinking deeper against my chest. “I’m fine now. I can walk.”

  I snorted as I ducked under a tree branch.

  “Yeah. And you walked yourself onto my property, into my house, and asked for my help. And that means if I feel like walking is a danger to you, you’re not walking,” I shot back, knowing I was going a little overboard.

  Her agreement was muffled into my shirt, reminding me just how too-good it felt to hold her against me like this.

  “Fine…” she admitted. “I just wanted to help.”

  I chuckled as I carried her into the house, setting her feet slowly down to the floor. “And you can still help me. After you rest.”

  A minute of defiant silence later and she sighed. “Fine, I’ll take a nap. But not a long one. Otherwise, I’ll never get my sleeping pattern straight.”

  “Bathroom is in through the bedroom. Only one.” I didn’t know why I clarified. There was obviously only one bathroom. The shack was hardly big enough for one person.

  Taylor froze as I turned back to her, the vulnerability in her face crashing over me like a tsunami and pulling me under this insane need to protect her… care for her… and her baby.

  “What are you—Will you—”

  “I’ll be just down the path for the next few hours if you wake up and need me, alright?” Her shoulders dropped with relief—like she’d been afraid I was going to leave her here… like I had anywhere fucking else to go.

  Like there was anywhere else I wanted to go.

  “You’re safe here, Tay,” I said. The simple statement held very serious promises.

  “Thank you.” She folded her arms over her chest as though hugging me was something she had to hold herself back from.

  It was for the best.

  Nodding, I shut the door behind me and headed back toward the restaurant and my solitude. I needed to get as far away from this reality which had only ever happened in my dreams.

  Taylor Hastings was in my bed.

  Taylor

  What was I thinking?

  He didn’t need my help.

  He’d come here for help months ago and now was building a restaurant and had a girlfriend.

  Did he love her?

  My heart felt like a punching bag for life. I wasn’t sure how many more hits it could take.

  Jetlag and growing a baby made a million thoughts swirl in my head as I bee-lined for the bathroom. Being carried over the threshold made me realize how badly I had to pee.

  One thing was for certain, the Ash who opened the door this morning wasn’t the one who left Nashville after the tour ended. He still looked the same. He still smelled the same—a kind of spice that made your toes tingle and lingered in your nose, like the scent of cinnamon, long after the smell itself was gone.

  And his sense of loyalty was still the same.

  ‘If you need to lean on me… I will be strong for you…’

  I pressed a hand over my mouth with the urge to cry. Again.

  I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel. It was how I’d stayed calm and rational and content for so long—by keeping my emotions locked inside a fence, invisible to everyone else but shocking to me whenever my feelings tried to cross it.

  He didn’t even know the half of it. He didn’t even know how much I needed him for, I thought as my hand sat on my stomach again.

  Would he have still said the same if he knew the truth? Would he have still been as calm? As caring?

  Or would he have freaked out… turned me away… shut me out… like he did to Blake and Zach?

  Ash had always been a wildcard while I’d been raised to value only stability and safety. And this would’ve been a whole lot easier if I wasn’t so hopelessly attracted to the father of my child. But how I felt—how I wanted him—didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the life inside me.

  I needed to know what happened to Ash. What changed him. Who he was.

  Right or wrong, even though I knew this baby was his, I needed to know just who the father of my child had become, because it wasn’t the same man who’d left Tennessee several months ago.

  I thought he’d come out here for a change, but now that I was here—now that I saw the life he was building, I realized how wrong I was.

  Now he lived in a shack. He had a restaurant.

  He spackled.

  There was more to Ash’s story. More to his reasons for coming here. And I had no idea what they were.

  But I did know there was no indication he had any plans to move back to Nashville—one more thing that added weight to my conf
ession.

  I never thought coming out here would be a permanent thing. It was just until I told him. Just until I settled things between us and could face my family at least with that part of the situation clear.

  But this was permanent for him. The way he looked around his restaurant, the way he spoke about it… This was his dream.

  And telling him he had a child meant the choice he had to make was far more heart-breaking: to be a part of his child’s life, or to pursue the dream he’d finally been given a shot at.

  I splashed some cold water on my face, knowing it probably washed some tears away with it.

  Just get some rest.

  I turned to the bed and sucked in a breath as my heart zinged. The sheets were still in disarray, painful evidence of what I’d interrupted earlier.

  Somewhere between walking out of this cabin and coming back to it, I’d forgotten that he had a girlfriend.

  I covered my mouth as nausea rolled through me.

  Guess my nap was happening on the couch.

  The last thing I did before my head hit the worn threads of the worn denim pillows was to reach for my phone, holding it up to catch one bar of service so that I could text Blake; I knew she’d be worried. She’d been worried before I left.

  TAYLOR

  I’m here. I found him.

  She immediately replied.

  BLAKE

  Thank God.

  Are you okay? Is he okay? Let me know how it goes. Let me know if there is anything I can do. Love you, Tay.

  I loved my best friend. I loved how much she supported me with the pregnancy, finding out it was Ash’s baby. I loved that she offered to stand up to my parents for me, and I loved that when I refused her offer, saying not only did I need to get away, but that I needed to tell Ash, she bought my flight to California without even asking.

  She was a light shining in the dark. But like every other star, just because she could tell me where to go, didn’t mean she had any insight on how I was supposed to get there.