He’d recently showered. It wasn’t just the wet hair and freshly shaven face that gave it away, but also the smell of minty soap and spicy aftershave. His scent. The scent she’d come to rely on.
He was right. They weren’t just friends. There was respect and admiration between them, that was true. But there was also chemistry and attraction. Their touches had become more intimate, more meaningful. Their conversations, more important.
“Why?” she demanded, feeling that ache in her throat again. She’d come to yell at him, yet her voice sounded strangled and weak.
He stepped forward with an expression she’d seen a hundred times. The one that made her believe she could actually be worthy one day. “You’re crying. What happened?”
“You happened!” Her stomach hurt, her hands were shaking, and her instincts urged her to walk away fast. “Why couldn’t you just leave it be?”
His mouth tightened. “Well, for one, your mother was cursing like a sailor when you drove off. Plus, I heard you scream. Sue me, Katie, but I actually care about your well-being.”
“Not the steps, you idiot. Me!” She went back to pacing. “I wanted to come home, get my parents in a safe place, and then go on with my life. I can’t do that in Fairfield. Don’t you see that? No matter what I do, my mistakes will always be ten feet from me.”
“Your past exists, whether you live in town or not.”
“Maybe, but it’s not right in my face. It’s not luring me back every time I let my guard down.”
“Yes, it is. Your past is your crutch, Katie. Your excuse to not even try.” He stepped closer, putting two hands on her shoulders to calm her erratic movement. “I spent almost a year hiding away in this house, hoping to avoid the church and Jillian, thinking that would somehow make the pain stop. But it didn’t. Not until you started showing up, asking me questions, challenging me to see past my bitterness, and encouraging me to trust someone again.”
His words sank past her defenses, and just as quick as it had come, all the aggression left her body. Wiping her eyes, she gave him a wobbly smile through her tears. “I didn’t know I was doing that.”
“Well, you were. You did.” His voice was soft, persuasive. His hand began stroking up and down her back, until it landed on the nape of her neck. “Not everything can be planned. Not everything is going to fit into precise, separate piles. You and I: we work. I don’t know why, but we do.”
“I’m not staying in Fairfield.” But her resolve sounded weak, even to her. It was his proximity, the way his thumb caressed her skin, the way his gaze felt intensely focused yet gently intimate.
“I’m just asking for a chance.” His lips grazed her forehead, and the feathery touch made her skin tingle as if little fireflies were dancing over the surface.
She closed her eyes when his lips traveled down to her temple. Her hands moved on their own, first to his hips, then to grip the T-shirt he wore.
“May I kiss you, Katie?” His lips were at her cheeks now, barely making contact. “I’ve wanted to for so long now.”
She didn’t want him to ask. Didn’t want to have to be the one to make that decision. But she knew he needed her to agree. She also knew doing so with a man like Asher meant that she was committing to more than a moment of contact. It meant she would trust him. It meant she would allow him access to her heart and her soul. It meant a plunge into something different and unknown.
“Yes,” she whispered, unable to answer any other way. It felt wrong to feel so much. To want his touch so fiercely.
He moved with a gentleness she didn’t expect, not when the tightness in her chest felt like a raging mesh of heat and passion and need. She pulled at his back, pressed closer, demanded more. But his control didn’t falter.
Then ever so softly, his lips met hers.
CHAPTER 27
Katie practically bucked beneath his hands, her body demanding he move faster, but Asher wasn’t about to rush this moment. He wanted to savor her touch. Savor the way her cheeks were damp with the tears he had never seen her shed before. He wanted her to know what it felt like to be valued, to be cherished, to be adored.
Energy magnetized the small distance between them, and he finally gave in, brushing her mouth with his.
Soft. Warm. Glorious. His lips moved slowly, exerting just enough pressure to relieve the ache in his chest. He pulled her closer, wanting to feel her collapse in his arms, to feel her let go of distance and walls.
The need for more grew deeper. His hands were on her face, cupping her jaw, framing her ear; his fingers slipped into her hair. Shock waves poured down his spine. He needed to stop but felt his treacherous hands move down, under the loose hem of her shirt, until he could touch the remarkably soft skin on the small of her back.
She didn’t shy away but encircled his neck and pulled him tighter.
Stop. His mind warned him to get control. He could feel the edge of her bra strap, knew that only a slight flick of his fingers could turn this moment into one of regret. That thought was enough to cool the heat surging inside. His hands found safety on her hips, as he slowed the frenzy that had overtaken them both.
He pulled away just enough to peer in her eyes, and when he did the ache returned with a fist. He’d seen them angry, excited, joyous, and lost. But now longing reflected in the silvery depths. It was more than desire. More than a touch that had been forbidden for so long. She trusted him. And this time, he would be a man worthy of that trust.
She swallowed. “That certainly opened Pandora’s box.”
His laughter caught him by surprise. He dropped his forehead to hers. “Leave it to you to fire-hose a moment with one sentence.” He kissed her cheek and then let her go.
She patted down her hair and straightened her shirt, scanning the area as if someone had been watching them from afar. “I didn’t come over here to kiss you.”
He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of his front door. “But you did want to see me. Admit it. You missed me.”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Mostly, I just wanted to yell at someone.”
He reached out and took her hand. “That’s because you missed me.” He gave a little tug, and she was back in his arms. “Admit it.”
A grin fought its way through the scowl she was faking. “Okay, fine. I missed you. Happy?”
“Very.”
He kissed her again, without losing his senses this time. It felt so strange to feel hope again. To see a silver lining where there’d only been bleakness. Sure, they had some challenges to face, but Asher wouldn’t accept that any of them were large enough to knock down what they’d built.
Katie laid her head against his chest. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”
“I’m sure,” he said firmly.
“It’s going to be a hot mess.” Her answer was equally sure.
He wrapped his arms around her. “I like messes. Keeps me on my toes.”
She laughed. “You’re insane.”
He kissed a line down her throat. “Here’s a thought. Let’s throw in a pizza, watch a movie, and make up for the four days we lost with your stubbornness.”
He didn’t let her protest. A second later they were inside his kitchen, hand in hand. Stainless steel and granite covered every surface except for the rich mahogany cabinets.
He opened a freezer drawer. “I have three-meat, supreme, and some kind of chicken spinach thing.”
“Whatever is fine. I’m not picky.” She couldn’t think about pizza, not when her heart was racing. Clean. Everything in the kitchen was perfectly, beautifully pure and clean. Like him.
He shut the drawer and pulled a string to open the cardboard pizza box. “Three-meat it is. We’ll stick with something I know will be good.”
A few photographs were fastened to the fridge door with round magnets. She stepped in for a closer look while he rushed around, turning on the oven, pulling out a flat pan. She’d never seen him nervous or flustered before, but her being inside his kitch
en seemed to be making him both.
She fixed her attention on a four-by-six photo of Asher with two other men. They were all sporting several-day-old beards, messy hair, and proud smiles.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks.” She took the picture off the fridge, leaving the magnet in place. She didn’t recognize them. She barely even recognized Asher. He’d had an entire life outside of Fairfield that she knew nothing about.
She heard the oven door shut and the ting of a timer being set, and then felt warm arms wrap around her middle. “That’s our annual camping extravaganza. Three men, one week, no electricity or running water.”
“Sounds fabulous,” she said with sarcasm injected into the last word.
“It is. Being in nature, away from the stress of life. I don’t know. I’ve had some of my greatest epiphanies on those trips.” He pointed to the guy on the left with longer dark hair and bright blue eyes. “That’s Dylan. We roomed together in college for three years.” His finger slid over to the opposite side of the photo, pointing to the guy, as tall as Asher, with tight-cropped hair and big brown eyes. “And Will. He and Dylan are like brothers, but they can’t live together. So he hung out in our place during the day and went back to his freakishly neat apartment at night.”
“You’re pretty freakishly neat too.”
“Not like Will. The man has a checklist for his checklists.” Asher chuckled. It was clear that he loved his friends, flaws and all.
She snapped the picture back on the fridge. “Was this taken last year?”
His arms slipped away. “No. I didn’t go last year.”
She watched him bustle around the kitchen again. He pulled out two glasses, even though she’d said she wasn’t thirsty. “I won’t ask if you don’t want me to.”
He set the cups down, held on to the counter for second, and then stood straight again. “I was in a bad place. It was about two months after the breakup. They’d just forced me to step down at the church. The last thing I needed was a week to think about the black hole my life had become. So I stayed home and renovated the kitchen instead. A week spent hammering cabinets can be quite therapeutic.”
She gave him a faint smile, feeling a quick sting of jealousy. “You really loved her.”
He moved in slowly, pulled her to him by her belt loops. “I’m over it.”
“Good.”
She raised a hand to investigate the rigid structure of his biceps, her fingers slipping just beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. His muscles flexed with the contact, and she explored further: to the rounded edge of his shoulder, the thick muscle by his neck, the slight curl of hair beyond his ears. His eyes closed, and she knew he felt what she did. That heat, that ache deep in her belly that made her want to do a million things she knew they weren’t ready for.
He lowered his head and laid it against her neck. His strong arms gathered her closer, both possessive and comforting. “I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t confuse things by moving too fast.” He let out a painful sigh and gently pushed her away from him. “And I want you a little too badly right now.”
With his back against the island and his body now a good several feet from hers, reality settled on her shoulders. “What are we doing?” she said—only partly to him, mostly to herself. She’d ruin him. This beautiful, gentle, respectful man.
He smiled a lopsided grin that was meant to tease but only made him sexier. “Some people would call it dating.”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d call a new beginning. For both of us. But . . .” His smile faded, and so did the mood. “I want you to tell me about Cooper.”
She met his eyes, and the expectation in them hurt. He didn’t just want her honesty. He needed it.
She twisted the edge of her T-shirt around two fingers. “Cooper and I met at Joe’s not long after he moved into town. He had this dark, mysterious past, and I had this need to be with angry, complicated men. After a few rounds we each decided the other was interesting enough to do it again the next night. And then the next. We dated for two years, and most of those months were volatile.” She dropped the wrinkled fabric and tried to find the right words to explain their relationship. “It’s not a romantic story. We were two people immersed in self-destructive behavior who found kinship together.” She shuffled away until her backside hit his enormous refrigerator.
“Two years is a long time. When did you break up?
“The night before I left town.” She eyed the timer on the stove, wishing it would count down faster. She hated this conversation. Hated how Asher had gone all stiff and solemn, and how far away he seemed all of a sudden.
“Not much closure there.” Asher didn’t have any kind of nervous tic. His hands didn’t shake like hers. He didn’t grip his neck like her dad. He was just still. Which made the statement more important, because all of that focus was on her.
“Not everyone needs closure. Sometimes they just need a way out,” she said.
“So why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
Silence. A heavy silence that rattled the windows, shook the doors, and pushed all the air from the room. She couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not when she’d had a glimpse of what being cherished felt like.
Unwilling to let Cooper’s memory tarnish the little happiness she’d found, Katie sauntered across the hardwood floor separating them until her palms were on his chest, over the slamming of his heart. “Can this be enough for tonight? There are some things I’m not ready to talk about.”
His hands landed on her hips. Sturdy hands. Warm fingers. They gently pressed against her waistband and into the flesh above. He tugged her closer, and his nose brushed along her cheekbone.
“And it’s definitely over?” His voice was deep and gruff, and every syllable caressed her soul.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
CHAPTER 28
Katie Stone was dating Asher Powell. In Fairfield, of all places. Insane. Stupid. The town would protest in the street. They’d string up her sins along the light posts, spend their weekends convincing him of what she already knew to be true: she wasn’t good enough.
Yet she couldn’t walk away, because somewhere in the depths of her soul, she wanted to believe in second chances. She wanted to believe every sweet word he’d whispered to her.
A light rain peppered her windshield as she drove the ten miles south. Standard Pawn was the largest shop on her list and had the best rating on Google. It also advertised the most comprehensive jewelry selection in the county. Katie knew it was a long shot, but making the trip sounded like a far better idea than sitting at home trying not to think about her next-door neighbor or the fact that they’d spent two hours kissing in his living room last night.
Just kissing.
Katie hadn’t done that since junior high. And even then, she’d let the boys explore under her shirt. But with Asher, it felt right to take it slow. He made her feel untarnished, special, worth waiting for.
She wanted so much to be all he thought she was, but in the dark recesses of her mind, Katie knew this dream world had an expiration date. But if she found the ring—if she could just set one thing right—then maybe they’d have a chance.
She parked the car and entered the large brick building. Unlike the other two pawnshops she’d checked out, this one felt like a retail outlet. Several teenagers wearing matching shirts walked around helping patrons find items. A stout lady with short hair and a manager’s badge stood behind the counter. JACKIE was etched in the blue plastic.
Katie stood in line, waiting until the customer in front of her had paid.
“May I help you?” Jackie asked with a practiced smile. “We’re running a ten-percent sale on all our old stock. It’s noted by a green tag.”
Katie glanced along the glass counter, eyeing the rows of jewelry underneath. “Actually, I’m looking for a specific piece. It’s a vintage emerald ring with a flower design. It was pawned about four years ago.”<
br />
The woman sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. We never keep inventory that long. One year, and the company policy is to mark it down or sell it online.”
“Could I just check anyway?”
Jackie’s face softened. “Sure. We keep our rings over here.”
Katie followed her down the counter until they’d reached the far end. Two more customers were walking up to the register.
“Take your time. I’ll come back in a second and see if you want a closer look at any of these.”
But Katie didn’t need extra time. There were only two rings with an emerald stone, and neither was the one she sought.
As promised, Jackie returned a few minutes later to check in.
“Would you have a record of the ring?” Katie swallowed the lump in her throat. “I mean, if you’d sold it online?”
“We would.” The woman pulled out a blank sheet of paper and wrote the description Katie gave her and the general time frame of the sale. “I’ll check when things slow down and call if it was here. We can’t disclose buyers, but you can at least know if it was sold.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Jackie patted her hand in an unexpected show of compassion. It fueled Katie, gave her much-needed comfort and encouragement that she was doing the right thing.
That feeling only grew and emboldened her as she drove back into Fairfield. She parked in front of Bradley Properties on Main Street. Her parents were stubborn, but they weren’t stupid. Maybe if she could just show them actual numbers, they’d consider putting the house up for sale.
A bell chimed as Katie entered the office. Cinnamon and vanilla welcomed her from a candle on the table. A receptionist’s desk and three plush chairs filled the small waiting room, but no one was around. Katie checked her phone. Two fifteen on a Friday. Surely, someone should still be working.
She approached the desk and peeked around to the offices in the back. “Hello?”
“Coming. Sorry,” a voice called from behind a closed door. A woman emerged a second later, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “Figures the one time I take a break . . .” Her voice trailed off.
My Hope Next Door Page 17
