by Emily Bowie
She purses her lips at me. “You two are my favorite people in the whole wide world. I support you no matter what, but I do hate when either of you hurt the other.” She moves her hand in front of her face like the thought we would hurt each other is too much negative energy and continues on. “You know what? I’ll give Buster a dog wedding so I can brush up on my skills.” She nods. I can see the gears in her brain already working. Frankie loves her dog too much. Just last month, she had a puppy shower to prepare Buster for motherhood.
“Didn’t Buster just have puppies?”
“She’s a busy dog. I can’t help the other man-dogs can’t get enough of her.”
“Good morning, ladies.” Danger’s smooth voice floats over to us, making me jump. Frankie’s smile grows larger, like this is the best thing since microwave bacon.
“Oh shoot, I forgot about the protest I’m staging.” She gives me a peck on the cheek while whispering into my ear, “I expect your first child to be named after me.”
“Hi,” I greet him, feeling awkward, not knowing how to act. I feel like Danger and I have done this dance and show before.
He has this cocky grin on his face as he bends down, kissing me without any care about gossip. I should stop him, but I don’t care either. His kisses are worth the rumors.
“You left before I woke up. I wanted to make you breakfast.”
Breakfast? We’ve never done breakfast like that before. My face must show my shock, because he continues, “I’m not the same young guy I once was, Haven. I know what I want. You of all people should know once I decide on something, I always get my way.”
“I’m what you want?” My body feels like it’s on pins and needles, waiting for the confirmation.
“You have always been what I want.” He bends down, placing another kiss on my lips.
I feel giddy. Everything in me swoons. It’s hard not to get wrapped up in Danger’s charm.
“How about a surf lesson then brunch?” he asks.
“Really?” In all the years, I’ve known Danger, he’s never been interested in surfing. With a strong guilt trip, I’ve had him watch me for safety reasons. Someone needed to know if I drowned. “You want to learn to surf?”
“I said I did.” He’s standing so sure of himself, with that sexy smirk on his face.
“You’re going to have to use my pink board,” I test him.
He steps closer, so his lips touch my earlobe. “If it means I get your hands on me for an hour, I’ll surf on a pink board.”
“We’re going to have to go back to the house. I have nothing here.”
He’s looking at me like he has everything planned out. “Everything’s already at the beach.” He shrugs.
“I need a bathing suit.” Again, I try to point out logic in his idea.
“I bought you one.”
This isn’t some whim of a thought. This is planned out. “You bought me a bathing suit?” I make a show of looking around the deserted street. Nothing is open.
He pulls me in under his shoulder, walking me toward the ocean. “Stop fighting us every step of the way,” he tells me as casually as if he were ordering an ice cream cone.
Sure enough, my board is in Danger’s truck. I know he told me this, but I just had to see it to believe it.
“There is nowhere to change.” I point out, just because I want to see how far he thought this through. Light flutters take over me. Goodness, I love this feeling. I forgot what it felt like. It’s more addictive than caffeine. Just like coffee, it starts slow, where just holding it in your hand relaxes you, then sipping it puts a smile on your face, warming your heart and body. When you decide not to have that cup in the morning, you’re left with a headache, and your every thought goes to that coffee you missed. It’s slow, but you seldom see it coming.
Danger is still standing right behind me, his chest touching my back. “That’s the point,” he says in a low, husky voice.
He walks toward his truck, pulling out a neon-blue triangle string bikini. I’m pretty sure my underwear covers more than what he’s holding up.
His eyes travel up my body slowly, taking his time, then back down before he meets my eyes. I must look like a scared stray cat. My eyes are wide. My instincts are to insult Danger about his lifestyle and woman choices before walking away. But since last night, I see I’ve been wrong in calling him out for rumors that were never true.
“Give it to me.” I rip it from his hands, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “Open both your doors and stand between them. Make sure the doors are facing the trees.”
“Your wish is my command.”
I can’t help but think that Danger can talk me into anything.
Eleven
Danger
Standing in my kitchen, I go through my mail and am shocked to see a small white box addressed to Haven. A smile instantly comes onto my face knowing that it didn’t take her long to change her address to mine. This must mean she doesn’t plan on moving out anytime soon.
“Hey,” Haven says, coming in from behind me. I didn’t even hear her come through the front door.
“You have mail from Ancestry,” I mention, tossing it to her.
“Oh good! I’m surprising my parents for their anniversary. My dad is always talking about our ancestors being important people in the church. I’m hoping to find more information about that to go along with the digital scrapbook I’m making them. It’s going to be the history of them.” I nod, loving how her face lights up as she talks. “You know if you ever wanted to make something like that for your parents, I can help.”
“I’m not really a scrapbook guy. I’m more of a ‘dirt, tumble, and broken bones’ type,” I grumble, not wanting to be dragged into anything involving the word scrapbooking. Then it dawns on me that I used my dad’s old saying before his accident. My whole exterior stiffens at the memories it all brings back.
Her laugh is carefree, and she playfully taps my chest, not noticing my rigidness. I try to slow my breathing; I don’t want her to catch on that I’m having a moment of panic. The smell of bull, manure, and sweat fills my nostrils as if I were transported back to the day of my father’s accident. I watch her examine the package, her slender fingers running over the white box.
“Must run in the family,” she says lightly, looking back up and smiling. She must see the change in my posture. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Her face loses its brightness as she refers to my dad, who lost most of his ability to walk because he was the same type of guy as me. I try to shake off the feeling, forcing my smile back onto my face. My breathing is loud, but the smell of that day wafts away, leaving only the peach scent that she sprays all over our house.
“I know. And that’s what I like about you.” I bend down, kissing her lips, hoping to put a smile back on her face.
“You know what? Let’s have a beach party next week. Crash called and said he wants to hang out and even has a day free.”
“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt special cousin bonding time.” She blows away a strand of hair that has fallen into her face. I’m one lucky bastard, is all I can think. I have this gorgeous woman living with me who cares about every aspect of my life.
“Don’t be silly. None of us have hung out with him in months.” Haven has this way of relaxing me with her presence alone. “I promise to lei you.” I wiggle my eyebrows, bringing up the colorful leis I found at the local dollar store for random parties.
“Derek Danger, what am I going to do with you?” She giggles, loving it.
“I have plenty of suggestions if you need one,” I flirt.
Her eyes shine, and I don’t ever want to be away from her. “Want to come and help me practice?”
“Last time I did, you had me shoveling poop, and I have some paperwork I need to go through for the church.”
“Promise I won’t put you to work other than to help me practice. I’ll even wear my sexy cowboy hat,” I try to entice her. I only ever wear cowboy hats while I’m away at a rodeo. Even for me, it’s
too eye-catching to wear it every day.
“Well, in that case, I’ll have to pass. Cowboy hats do nothing for me.”
“Is that right? So if I came walking in only wearing a cowboy hat, I would get no reaction from you?”
“I’m immune.” She shrugs, and I step into her personal space. She makes no move to back away before I wrap my arms around her.
“Haven, let’s be honest. If you were immune, I wouldn’t have you in my arms right now.”
“You’re a little too sure of yourself.” She looks up at me in her own challenging way.
Picking up a piece of her red hair, I twirl it in my fingers before allowing it to fall through, then trace her neck, slowly descending to the top of her chest. Her breaths become shallow.
Winking, I add, “Come on, Ma hasn’t seen you in a while.” I step back and walk out the door, leaving her slightly breathless, hoping like hell she’ll follow me.
“That’s not fair. You can’t guilt me with your ma!” she playfully scolds me.
“It was that or I prove to you how wrong you are about the cowboy hat.”
“You’re disgusting.”
She’s lying. She can’t get enough of it when I act this way. “You love it.”
Coming to my parents’ driveway, I see my ma knitting in the rocking chair my dad built for her when us kids were born. She doesn’t waste a second, standing up to come greet us with a warm smile on her face.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite second daughter!” She pulls Haven in for a hug, ignoring I’m even here.
“Hi, Ma!” I greet her from behind. Leaning over the two of them, I place a kiss on her cheek.
“What are you two doing here?” She’s looking between Haven and me with that baby fever sparkle. She and Frankie have the same look when they think they’re on to something about my love life, always wanting more for me that I want for myself.
“Haven said she would help me practice. I thought I would ask Dad to see if he would help too.”
Ma hugs me. “Honey, we both know your dad hasn’t stepped foot in that barn in a decade. But he’s in the shop if you want to ask.” She gives me one of her sad smiles, which makes me feel like shit for wanting to ask. I would love to get my dad to see how good I’m doing following in his footsteps. He reached up to spot number thirty in his day. He was on progress to becoming one of the top ten before his accident.
“Let’s have a family dinner tonight.” I try to cheer up my ma, hating that I placed that soft frown on her face. Thankfully, that has her smile returning. “We would love to have you two for dinner.” She’s back to looking at us like she’s in on a big secret. I hope she’s not making Haven uncomfortable. “But Frankie is over at Crash’s helping him bring that sweet foal into the world.”
I talked to Crash today, and I swear he said the foal was born yesterday. “I think you’re mixing up your days, Ma.”
She pauses, probably thinking back over her conversation with my sister.
“I don’t think she’s left there since yesterday. There was a bunch of complications, and I think Crash and Frankie are still dealing with it all,” Haven tells us.
This has my ma nodding like it all makes sense. But I know for a fact that Frankie isn’t there today. I don’t understand why she would lie about it. For now, I’ll let this go, not wanting to get into it, when I could be spending time with Haven.
“Haven, darling, would you like some sweet tea while Danger goes and talks to his dad?” Ma asks, taking my choice of not seeing him away.
Haven grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before smiling up at Ma. “I would love some. Maybe you can give me a lesson on knitting too.” I stand there watching her walk up the porch, both women giving me the same look, like they don’t get why I fight this so much.
Turning, I prepare myself for a conversation with my dad that neither of us really wants to have. Standing at the entrance of the large shop, I see him in his wheelchair, sorting his screws and tools that he never uses. Music is on in the background, taking the silent edge off everything.
“Need help?” I ask, unsure what type of mood I’ll be met with.
He grunts, wiping the drawer out, and now I can see his tools all out on the bench. “This is a one-man job.” He pauses, then what seems like an afterthought, he continues, “But thank you for the offer. There aren’t too many jobs I’m able to do anymore. I like to keep the ones I can.” It’s the backhanded comments I can’t stand the most. He tries to make it sound all nice and shit, but then neither of us feel good afterward.
“I could use your help in the barn,” I lead with honesty. I hate that he feels useless, when I know he’s not. The truth is I could use his help on a lot of things; he just refuses to listen.
Scoffing, the tool in his hand pauses midair.
“That’s a young man’s job, Danger.”
The condescending tone grates on my ears, causing me to grind my molars.
“How would you know? You haven’t stepped foot anywhere you might be reminded of your past, including watch your own son follow in your footsteps.”
He has a perplexed look on his face, but I decide I’m not backing down. Might as well say what’s been on my mind for a while now.
“I’m doing really good. You should be proud for me, Dad.”
“Danger, I am proud. I wish… I…” he stutters, trying to get his thoughts out. “I wish I could handle being back in the arena, back in the barn, back watching you. It hurts too much. The pain of losing it all is still here, and I’m still dealing with it a decade later.”
“You could start with baby steps and help in the barn. I just need a spotter to critique my form.”
“It’s not that simple, Derek.” My father rarely calls me Derek. In fact, the only reason why Danger isn’t my first name is because my ma wanted a respectable first name if I needed it for when I was older.
“It could be, if you stopped fighting it,” I argue.
I watch as my own blood turns from me, like he always does when the conversation doesn’t go his way. My father doesn’t yell or slam things; he evades anything that makes him uncomfortable, including this conversation. And like that, I know he plans to ignore anything else I have to say.
“So what chore are you making me do first?” Haven asks as we walk toward the barn, refusing to allow me to brood in silence. My fingers itch to take her hand in mine. But I refrain, not wanting my ma to get overly excited about overhearing anything Haven and I haven’t talked about yet. And I can feel her watchful eyes on our backs the whole way. Looking over my shoulder my ma has this goofy grin on her face as she gives me a wave and goes inside the house.
“Like I said, no chores today.” We walk into the barn, and I look down at her. She looks at home here. My chest grows tight, thinking about how Haven fits perfectly in my life. Without any direction, she walks into the stall that hosts my practice equipment. I give her a tap on her ass as I head toward my blue barrel. Seeing her raised eyebrow at my action, I chuckle under my breath. This here is my happy place. The blue barrel is raised into the air with rope on each of its ends that run to each corner of the room. It sits still, beckoning me to get on.
“All you need to do is stand here,” I direct her, but the instructions are nothing new to her. Over the years, Haven has helped me enough to know what to do.
Swinging my leg over, I give her a nod to start. She pulls at the rope slowly, allowing me to adjust.
“Does it bother you that he isn’t able to watch you anymore?” she asks, referring to my dad.
I hate talking about my dad; it’s a conversation I refuse to have. There’s no point in a discussion when nothing will ever change. “Did you see that Timothy placed the house for sale?”
She nods, moving the rope with more power, but not excessive.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you just have to say so,” she scolds.
Letting out a deep breath, I close my eyes, feeling the motion beneath my body.
“I’m sorry. It’s a hard topic for me, even with you. I want him to be proud and see how far I’ve come. I want him to be proud of his son following in his footsteps. But all he can do is think of the danger of it all, instead of allowing himself to be happy for me. Each season, I hope maybe this will be the year he can get over his accident, but it never happens. Each year, I see it digging a trench in his marriage. He can’t even look me in the eye most days. All he sees is himself at my age, and it disgusts him.” The movement stops under me, and I slowly open my eyes to look at Haven.
Her features show so much compassion I don’t deserve.
“Timothy wanted to move away from Oakport Beach as soon as we got married. So I’m not surprised it’s for sale. He hated it here. He hated coming to church with me.” She lets me off the hook by not talking about my dad any further, but this conversation isn’t any better.
It takes everything in me not to go beat the hell out of Timothy. He wouldn’t be the first man to feel my fists because they hurt Haven. What’s stopping me this time? It’s hard to admit even to myself, but all I can think about is my guilt. I was there the night of his bachelor party, and she has no idea the real story behind it all.
“Do you want to talk about it? About the bachelor party?” The words feel like they scratch my throat on the way out. I’m not sure if anyone has asked Haven about any of it. I left town at sunrise the next day to get away from her, myself, and everything that went along with knowing that Haven was getting married.
“There’s not much to say. He liked the idea of having a good religious wife who would stay home, while what he wanted was a woman who liked to party, wore skimpy clothes, and who never had standards.”
“I’m sorry.” I feel responsible for everything. After all, I did plan the party.
She waves what I’m saying away. “Don’t be. Timothy is a grownup and makes his own decisions.” She starts moving the rope again. “I’m happy it happened.” She’s quiet, and I think I may have misheard her. “It made me realize I never really loved him. We were a whirlwind romance, and I got swept up with it being new and enthralling. I confused love with gifts and excitement, never truly taking the time to ask myself if I truly loved him or if it was the idea of it all. I wanted what my parents had. They got married within a month. They had that love at first sight thing, and their love never wavered. I wanted so badly to recreate that for myself that I lost track of what is important.”
