But forty-five minutes later, Rhodes still hadn’t come back and the pizzas were overcooking in the cooling oven.
I guess I could just cut it up, put it on a plate and take it over?
I had just started cutting up one of them with a steak knife, because I didn’t have a pizza cutter, when another knock came from the door, and before I could answer, it creaked open and I heard, “Angel?”
Lord, I didn’t understand this man and how he sometimes screwed up my name.
“Yes?”
“Pizzas done?”
“Yeah! Want me to bring yours down?” I yelled.
“Bring them both.”
He wanted to eat together? “Okay!” I hollered back.
The door closed, and I finished slicing up both supreme masterpieces, stacking them onto plates, and wrapping them with some of the beeswax covers that Yuki had sent randomly to my PO box. Then I went down.
I managed about two steps outside before I stopped.
There was a sleek tent pitched in the area between the garage apartment and the main house.
Beside it were two camping chairs with a lantern between them. Rhodes was sitting in one of them. There was a small bundle on the other.
“It’s not Gunnison, but we can’t have a fire here either because the ban is statewide,” he said, sitting up.
Something beneath my breastbone stirred.
“I looked for your tent in the garage and in your car, but it wasn’t there. If you want to bring it down, we can set it up in a minute. But mine is a two-person.” He stopped suddenly, talking that was, and leaned forward, squinting at me in the dark. “Are you crying?”
I tried to clear my throat and went with the truth. “I’m about to.”
“Why?” he asked softly in surprise.
That thing moved around some more, sliding awfully close to my heart, and I tried to will it to stop moving.
It didn’t listen.
He’d pitched a tent.
Set up chairs.
So that I could go camping.
I squeezed my lips together, telling myself, Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Ora.
I better not cry. I better not cry.
I even cleared my damn throat.
And it didn’t matter.
I started to cry. Just these tiny, pitiful streams that came out of me silently once the choke was out. I didn’t make a sound, but the tears kept coming out of my eyeballs. Seasonal little streams of salt at an act of kindness I would have never in a million years expected.
Rhodes stood up, alarmed, and I tried to say, “I’m fine,” but it didn’t exactly come out.
It didn’t come out at all. Because I was trying so hard not to cry harder.
“Buddy?” Rhodes said cautiously, concern all over his tone.
I pinched my lips together.
He took another step forward and then another, and then I did the same.
I went straight toward him, still pressing my lips together, still clinging to my small amount of pride.
And when he stopped about a foot or two away, I set the plates on the ground and kept going. Straight into him. My cheek going into the space between his shoulder and collarbone, tucking myself in right there, and wrapping both arms around his waist like I had a right to. Like he would want me to.
Like he liked me and this was fine.
But he didn’t push my arms away once they were there. Once I was basically totally pressed against him, not crying-crying but tearing up into his shirt. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I whispered into his chest with a sniff.
What had to be his hand landed right smack in the center of my back.
“I’m sorry,” I pretty much whispered before attempting to keep myself together and trying to take a step back, but I couldn’t. Because the hand covering my bra strap didn’t let me. “I don’t mean to get all mopey or cry all over you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Another hand landed low on my back, right above the band of my jeans.
And I stopped trying to move away.
“You’re not making me uncomfortable. I don’t mind,” he said, his voice as gentle as I’d ever heard it.
He was hugging me back.
He was hugging me back.
And son of a bitch, I wanted it. So I hugged this man more, my arms going low on his waist. He was warm, and his body was solid.
And my God, he smelled like the good laundry detergent.
I could wrap him around myself and live there forever. Cologne be damned. There was nothing better than good detergent.
Especially when it was molded to a body like Rhodes’s. Big and firm. All comforting.
A man who I had thought up until not too long ago couldn’t stand me.
And now… well, now I was second-guessing everything.
Why would he do this? Because of Amos’s appendicitis? Because I’d saved him when his dad had come over? Or possibly because of our UTV adventure?
“You okay?” he asked as his hand hesitated on the middle of my spine before giving it another pat.
He was patting my back, like he was trying to burp me.
Affection surged through my bloodstream. Rhodes was attempting to comfort me, and I didn’t think I’d ever been so confused, not even when Kaden had told me he loved me but said we couldn’t let anyone find out about it.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re being so nice. I really thought you didn’t like me for the longest.”
Rhodes pulled back just enough for him to tip his chin down. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes bounced from one of mine to the other, and he must have realized I was serious because his features slowly softened. His serious face took over, and so did his Navy Voice. “It had nothing to do with you before, are we clear? You reminded me of someone, and I thought you were like her. It took me too long to figure out that you’re not. I’m sorry I did that.”
“Oh,” I told him with another sniff and then a nod. “I get it.”
He kept on looking straight into my eyes before dipping his chin a little. “Do you want to go back in?”
“No! I’m sorry I got emotional. Thank you so much. This means the world to me.”
He nodded, his hands briefly moving over my spine before he took a step away. Then he seemed to think twice about it because he was back and dabbing at my face with the sleeve of the sweater I hadn’t realized he’d thrown on at some point.
And before I could think twice about it, I dove forward again and hugged him tight again, so tight he went “oof” for a second before I let him go just as quickly, sniffled and gave him a big, watery smile. Picking the plates of pizza back off the ground where I’d set them, I held one out to him. “Well, let’s eat, if you’re hungry,” I nearly croaked.
He was watching me way too closely, the lines across his forehead prominent. “You’re still crying.”
“I know, and it’s your fault,” I said, clearing my throat and trying to keep it together. “This really is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Rhodes.”
His eyes flicked up toward the night sky as he said in that hoarse voice, “You’re welcome.”
We each took a seat, quietly, taking the wrapper off, going straight into eating our pizzas, the light of the lantern illuminating us both enough so we could see each other pretty clearly.
We finished up our pizzas in silence, and he reached over to take the plate from me, setting it down and then saying, “I found a pack of Chips Ahoy and some marshmallows I don’t remember buying, but they aren’t expired.”
My bottom lip started quivering, and in that moment, I hated that I thought of Kaden, and I hated even more that I hated him for not understanding me a fraction of as much as I thought he understood me.
He hadn’t. I saw that now. Saw it in a complete picture. Years ago, I would have killed for something like this. Not for the things he bought that took him three minutes to find online and even faste
r to order because he had his account information saved on his phone. I could remember the times I’d brought up just visiting Pagosa and how he’d change the subject, not listening. Not caring. Everything had always been about what he wanted. All that time I’d wasted….
“You good with the cookies and marshmallows?” Rhodes asked, oblivious.
My “yes” was the smallest yes in the world. But it got the point across because Rhodes shot me a long look before getting up and ducking into the tent, bringing out a plastic grocery bag. He pulled out what looked like a half-full container of chocolate chip cookies, a nearly demolished bag of marshmallows, a couple of the kind of things used for kebabs, an oven mitt and a full-sized lighter.
I went over and we split the things up; he handed me the pokers and a marshmallow at a time and I loaded them. I put the mitt on, shooting him a smile as I did, and then held out the marshmallow sticks toward him, where he lit the flame and I slowly turned the marshmallows once before flipping them upside down and letting the flame swallow the rest of them. We did it twice for four total.
“Have you ever done this before?” I asked as I blew out the flame on the last set.
His face was even more handsome under the moonlight and the lantern; his bone structure was absolutely something else. “No, but I hoped it’d make sense—careful, don’t burn yourself.”
What a dad.
I loved it.
I was careful as we slowly dragged the marshmallows across their sticks and onto a cookie each, using the rods to smash them down as they cracked open with gooey goodness. He took two, and I kept the other two, unable to stop smiling and not caring.
“Okay?”
I wasn’t sure what he was referring to specifically, so I took it in general. “More than okay, this is awesome,” I admitted.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “The pizza, outside, the moon, the cookies.”
“Am’s got a couple movies downloaded on his tablet. I got it just in case you wanted to watch it in there,” he said, gesturing to the tent.
He was serious. What else was in the tent?
“Should I grab my sleeping bag since the ground is hard?”
“There’s a couple in there. They’re clean. We washed them after our last failed trip.”
“What happened?”
“Am got stung three times by a yellow jacket on the second day. He wasn’t very happy.”
I grimaced. “Did you leave?”
He snickered. “Second and last time we ever went.”
“That sucks. Hopefully there’s other things you both enjoy doing together.”
Those broad shoulders moved in agreement. “I’m here for Amos, not to do things without him.”
That made me smile. He really was such a good dad. A good man.
“We don’t have to watch anything if you don’t want to,” he said when I guess I took too long to say anything else.
I didn’t even hesitate a little bit. “I’m game if you are.”
“I brought it out here, angel,” he replied.
He totally had. “Yes, I want to. Give me five minutes to grab a drink—”
“I’ve got a couple bottles of water and a soda in the tent, the kind you like,” he cut me off.
I didn’t want to think that everyone had an ulterior motive. I didn’t feel that way at all. But… he had my favorite soda? What kind of witchcraft was going on here?
I pinched myself as subtly as possible, and when I figured I should have woken up because this was a dream and didn’t, I realized this was real.
And I was going to take advantage of this handsome man being so nice to me for whatever reason he had.
“I want to change my pants and grab a sweater. These jeans weren’t meant to be worn all day.”
He gave me that serious nod.
I took a step back then stopped again. I wanted to make sure… “Did you… want to camp out all night?”
“Only if you want to.”
I hesitated, eyeing the two-person tent. The proximity. The intimacy.
A tent propped between his house and mine—technically his, but whatever—and this tiny thrill filled my whole chest cavity.
He was just being nice, I told myself. Don’t fly too high, little heart, I pleaded, surprised suddenly by the words that had come out of nowhere.
But just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone. A figment of my imagination.
“We can play it by ear. You change your mind, you walk the fifteen steps home,” he amended after a moment.
That wasn’t what I was thinking at all, but I nodded, not willing to say what I was hesitating over. I couldn’t forget I was, hopefully, going hiking with Clara tomorrow and I’d need to wake up early, but being tired would be worth it for this. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
And I was right back. I changed into some loose flannel pajama pants that someone had bought me, peed, and headed back out. I made it to the opening of the tent and started to unzip it, finding Rhodes sprawled on top of a sleeping bag, all long and physically perfect, and on top of the kind of foam pad we sold at the store all the time. He had the tablet propped against his knees, head pillowed by his real pillow and his forearm that he had tucked back there.
I didn’t need to witness it to know he watched me as I undid the rest of the zipper and ducked inside, closing it back after me.
I wasn’t sure what I’d imagined when I’d pictured a two-person tent, but it hadn’t been this cozy.
I liked it.
And I sure wasn’t going to complain.
“I’m back,” I said, Captain Obvious.
He gestured toward the sleeping bag on top of another pad directly beside him. “I saved you a spot from the raccoon that tried to get in a minute ago.”
I froze. “Are you serious?”
He was messing with me.
I started to unzip the tent again as he chuckled, and I guess, dipped a finger into the band of my pants and tugged me back, surprising me yet again with this change in him. His voice was warm. “Come on.”
“All right,” I muttered, crawling across the floor and lying right beside him. There was a pillow on my side too, and it was a house one, not an inflatable one. This was so, so nice.
The nicest.
I didn’t understand it.
“We’ve got three choices: the 1990s Twilight Zone, Fire in the Sky, or a documentary about Bigfoot hunters now that I see it. What do you think?”
I didn’t even need to think about it. “If I watch the Bigfoot movie, I’ll never go camping again. We’re out in the open, and unless you want me crying myself to sleep, Fire in the Sky is out—”
His laugh surprised me, all deep and hoarse and perfect.
“Let’s do The Twilight Zone.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“We can watch Fire in the Sky if you’re fine with me peeing myself and having to smell it later.”
He only said one word, but there was definitely amusement in it. “No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He rolled his head to the side to eye me.
But something in me eased as I scooted over, so close his upper arm brushed my boobs. I was totally on my side, with a hand between my head and the pillow propping it up enough to get a good look at the screen.
He didn’t start the movie right away though, and when I glanced at him, I could tell his gaze was trained on a spot along the tent wall.
I didn’t want to ask what he was looking at.
And I didn’t have to because his gray eyes flicked to me, and the smile that had just been lingering there a moment ago was gone, and he said, voice steady, “You reminded me of my mom.”
The mom he didn’t like? I winced. “I’m sorry.”
Rhodes shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. You don’t look alike or act alike, angel. She was just… She was beautiful like you are. You-can’t-look-away gorgeous, my uncle used to say,” he explained softly, li
ke he was still trying to process whatever it was he was thinking exactly.
“Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure she was bipolar. People, including my father, let her get away with a lot because she looked the way she did. And it was a shitty instinct that made me think you could be like that too.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m sorry.”
Something really heavy churned in my chest, and I nodded at him. “It’s okay. I understand. You weren’t that mean.”
His eyebrows went up a little. “That mean?”
“That’s not what I meant. You weren’t mean. I just… thought you didn’t like me. But I promise, I’m not that bad of a person. And I don’t like hurting most people’s feelings. I still think about the time when I was in third grade and hid my Halloween candy instead of sharing it with Clara when she came over to my house.”
The softest little snort went through his nose.
“Mental illness is hard. With a parent especially, I think. My mom battled depression when I was growing up, and it was hard for me too. It still is, I guess. She was really good at hiding it, but when it got to be too much, she would pretty much be catatonic. I thought I could fix it, but that’s not the way it works, you know? Stuff like that sticks with you. I wondered… what had happened. With her, I mean. Your mom.”
The way he shook his head, like he was reliving some of the things he’d gone through with her, hurt my heart. I couldn’t imagine what she had done to make a man like Rhodes look the way he did right then. Maybe this was why his relationship with his dad was so strained. I didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to rehash more hurt when he was being so kind. So I settled for touching his arm. “But thank you for apologizing.”
His gaze went straight to the place where my fingers were. That thick, muscular throat worked, and slowly, oh so slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine and just watched me.
I didn’t know what to say for once, so I didn’t say anything at all. What I wanted to do was hug him, to tell him that there were some things you could never truly get over. What I actually did was pull my hand back and wait. And what was only a deep breath and a few moments later, he started talking again, his voice only sounding a little bit different, huskier, if anything. “Thanks for what you did with my dad. For what you said.”
All Rhodes Lead Here Page 31
