To the right are windows that look out to the front yard, and beneath are four filing cabinets, all stocked with important sheriff’s business I’m sure.
To the left, a huge safe takes up a big portion of the wall, and my brows draw together in confusion. “You have a safe?”
“It’s a gun safe.”
My eyes flash back to his, rounded in surprise. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, pushing back his chair and standing. “Want to see?”
“Uh, okay?” I’ve never seen a gun in person. I’m not opposed per se, I’ve just never come in contact with one before.
Walking over, Ryan turns the dials on the lock until it clicks. When he pulls it open, my jaw drops. There’s, like, eight guns in there.
“Um, why do you need so many?”
“I don’t.” He shrugs. “I just like having options.”
“For what?” I ask taking a step back.
Laughing, he pulls out one of the big ones. “Here,” he says, holding it out towards me.
“What?”
“It’s not loaded.”
“Oh, okay.” Reaching out, I take it from his outstretched hand, and grip it tight. Lifting it up, I study it closely, feeling its weight in my hands.
“That’s a Weatherby Vanguard Series 2.”
“I was going to guess that, actually,” I tell him, smiling.
“Sure, of course.” He laughs lightly. “It’s my favorite for hunting.”
“You hunt?” I ask, my face showing my distain.
“Yes, I’m from Maine. I hunt.”
“Please don’t tell me you have a freezer full of venison and moose. Because I refuse to eat that.”
“No, you’re safe. I don’t enter the moose hunting lottery, and I donate the venison.”
“Donate it?”
“Yeah, when my brothers and I go hunting, we harvest the meat and then donate it to the local shelters. That’s what a lot of folks do who have excess.”
“Oh, that’s really nice of you.”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” He jokes.
“I’m not.” I smile. “I just don’t know anything about hunting, fishing, or camping. It’s not really my thing.”
“Well, I will say that I think you’d look sexy in camo holding a gun. And naked under the stars. And on a boat with a rod in hand while the wind blows your curls around your face.”
“I think I can rock some camo. And I’m sure I’d look just as good naked under the stars as you, as well as holding your rod on a boat.” I wink. “But I don’t touch fish. You’d have to do that part.”
His lips twitch, suppressing a smile. “No problem, sweetheart.”
Facing away from him, I hold the rifle up and look through the scope. “I’ve always wanted to shoot a gun.”
“I can take you to a range. Then you can try out a few different ones.”
I smile at him over my shoulder. “Sounds fun.”
We both know I won’t be here long enough for that, but it’s nice that he even offered.
I hand him back his gun and he puts it back in place with the others while I walk across the room to the windows. Peeking through the slats in the blinds, I gasp at what I see. “Ryan, holy shit! How much has it snowed?”
Sighing, he rubs the back of his head. “A few feet. I think three by now.”
“But…how…will it stop?”
“It’s supposed to tomorrow. Don’t worry, Ash, I’m keeping you safe, aren’t I?” He asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Yes,” I whisper, leaning my head back against his chest. “I am a little hungry, though. I didn’t eat any dinner.”
“I wonder why,” he muses, kissing me behind the ear, hearing the smile in his voice. “Let’s go see what I have and I’ll make you something.”
“Okay, but I have to talk to you about something.” I’m not sure how to bring this up, but I have to. “Last night, uh, we didn’t use–”
“I know, and I’m sorry. When I realized, it was too late. I’ve been up thinking about it for a while now.”
“That’s why you’re down here?”
“Yeah. Ash, are you…?” He squeezes me a little tighter.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m covered. But still.”
“It won’t happen again. Sorry,” he murmurs, kissing my hair.
“No, now wait, I didn’t say that. I just meant all you had to do was ask. I don’t know where you’ve been.”
He laughs into my neck. “What?”
“You heard me, sheriff.”
“I’ve been inside you, sweetheart.” His low voice sends chills through me. “And that’s it. I’ve never been bare with a woman before, but I couldn’t fucking help myself with you. One second in your tight, wet heat, and I was gone.”
Jesus fucking Christ. My knees buckle, and Ryan catches me–tightening his hold around my waist.
Spinning me around, he captures my lips with his in a quick, bruising kiss.
“Now, let me feed you,” he says against my lips, and I have no words. With a slight nod of my head, he steals another kiss and grabs my hand.
Leading us out of his office and into the kitchen, Ryan lifts me up and onto the island and searches the cabinets. “I can make you soup? Chicken noodle?”
“Sounds perfect,” I tell him, my stomach growling at the thought.
Leaning back on my hands, I watch him open two cans of soup and pour them into a pot on the stove. Everything he does captivates my attention, no matter how dull the task–like stirring soup.
“Tell me something,” he says all of a sudden, looking over at me.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Tell me something no one else knows about you.”
“A secret?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
A secret. “Okay, well…I never told anyone about us. About that night.”
“You didn’t?”
“No, I didn’t.” Looking down, I play with the hem of my sweater, rubbing the soft material between my fingers.
“Why not?”
“Did you?”
“No”–he shakes his head–“I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I asked you first.”
“I, um, just didn’t want it to become some funny joke to my friends. Because it wasn’t that for me.”
“What was it for you?” he asks, his eyes serious and penetrating.
I can’t answer that question. I can’t tell him that it was too much for me, and I thought about him every day since. That’s not what this is. That’s not what we are.
“It was more,” I confess softly, hoping he doesn’t press me further.
Watching me, Ryan searches my eyes. He abandons the soup and takes the few steps towards me, closing the distance. Standing between my legs, he runs a finger down and across my jaw, leaning forward and kissing me softly–sweetly.
My heart kicks up, and in the silence, I know he can hear it.
Kissing me again, he steps back and resumes stirring the soup at the stove. What am I supposed to do with that? Was it more for him too?
Clearing my throat, I play with the hem of my sweater again. “Your turn. Tell me something no one knows.”
He takes a minute before answering. “I didn’t want to be sheriff.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah.” He nods. “I didn’t want to give up patrol. I loved being out with the people and helping them directly.”
“Don’t you still do that?”
“No. I mostly do paperwork and oversee the deputies. I don’t get to get out there and get my hands dirty as much as I’d like. I mean, some days I do. I can’t sit behind a desk day in and out. I’m not built that way.”
“Then why did you run for sheriff? Didn’t you have to be elected?”
“Yes, but I was pushed into it by my family and the people of Pine Cove. When the position opened, my dad suggested it, and then all
of a sudden, the whole town was stopping me in the streets to tell me to run and that they didn’t know a single person who wouldn’t vote for me. I saw it as an opportunity to finally be something greater in the eyes of my family, I guess. So, I ran, and I won.”
“You’re a hero in their eyes. You make a difference, Ryan.”
“I still wish I could do more for the people. Face-to-face. But I love being sheriff more than I ever thought I would.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You take care of the people of this town. You’re important. You keep them safe. You matter. And, in my eyes, your family doesn’t even compare to you.”
“Now I know you’re just being nice.” He smirks. “Chris is a doctor in the military, and Tyler is a fireman. I mean, I guess I’ve got Jake beat.” He smiles. “He just builds boats. But then again, he was in the Navy before.”
“You all have your place in this world, and you all make a difference in the lives of those around you. You’re lucky you have a family, Ryan. Not everyone is that blessed.”
“I know,” he says softly, mulling my words over in his head. Turning off the stove, he pours the soup into two bowls. “Grab two spoons and that sleeve of crackers there, would you?”
“Sure.” Hopping down form the island, I gather the items, and then follow him out into the living room.
Taking a seat on the couch, I cross my legs, and place the blanket from behind me over my lap.
Handing me a bowl, I smile my thanks, and he goes to start a fire. Sitting next to me, his knee touches mine, and I feel the connection flowing between us with just that simple touch.
“You meant that?” He asks, looking into the fire instead of at me. “What you said before?”
“Yes,” I say honestly. “I think you’re amazing, Ry. And being sheriff was obviously what you were meant to be, even if it didn’t start out that way. That doesn’t matter.”
“You think I’m amazing?” He smirks, his eyes darting to mine as he eats a spoonful of soup.
“Yes. Professionally. Don’t get a big head about it.”
“I could give you some big–”
“Don’t finish that sentence, sheriff.” I laugh, knowing where he was going.
“How do you know what I was going to say?”
“Because you have a one-track mind.”
“That’s not true. I saw an opening, so I thought I’d take it. But since you closed it”–he smiles–“I’ll just ask you some more questions.”
“Alright.”
“What’s your biggest fear?”
“Is this a job interview?”
“Yes, Ms. Ames, it is.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Just answer. Honestly.”
“Fine.” Clearing my throat, I think about it for a few seconds, and decide to actually answer truthfully.
“Before he died, my dad made me promise I would never settle. He made me promise I’d wait for what he and my mom had. But then he died. He was gone, and my mom was a shell of the woman she used to be. It’s been eight years, and she’s still broken. And even though that scares me, I’ve realized recently that I still want that. So, that’s my fear. Never finding that person, or being too stupid to know when I do. And then I’m alone.”
Looking into the fire, I take a deep breath. I don’t know what possessed me to share that with him. I’ve never told anyone that before.
“Another thing I’ve never told anyone before,” I whisper, focusing on my soup.
“Ashley,” he finally says, and I look over at him, his eyes holding mine captive. “You’re smart, beautiful, driven, passionate, fierce, caring, and about a hundred other things I could list. I’m glad your dad made you promise him that, because you deserve the fucking world, not settling for mediocre.”
Yeah, I’ll find it. Sure. With someone else.
With someone who’s not him.
Blinking, I look away from his warm gaze. He’s being so nice, and all I can think about is how I wish it were him. But I already know it can never be him. I just need to ingrain that in my head more solidly.
And yet despite telling myself that this is all just temporary, and this is all just fun, I find myself hoping for the exact opposite. Those little fuckers called feelings have now fully creeped into my veins and settled in my heart.
Why? Why? Why?
“Thanks,” I say softly, acting like I’m more interested in my soup than him right now.
“Hey.” Turning my head back towards him, he searches my eyes.
“I’m fine. I just never talk about this stuff with anyone.”
Nodding, he releases my chin, and we both go back to eating our soup in silence.
But when I reach for a cracker, our hands clash, and I pull mine away, clearing my throat. “Tell me your biggest fear.”
“I don’t have one,” he says, biting into a saltine.
“Come on. I told you mine, despite the fact that I never wanted to admit any of that out loud.”
Sighing, he scratches his jaw and stares into the fire. “Fine. Dying on the job. I know it’s a cowardly thing to say, and I do mostly desk work and shit now, but I still go out there. And anything can happen. I can walk into any situation at any time, and it could be the end.”
“Ryan, it doesn’t make you weak to admit that. You risk your life every day for others. It’s literally your job to put your life ahead of others, and I find that incredibly heroic and selfless. And it doesn’t hurt that you look like walking sex in your uniform,” I tell him, making him smile, blinding me with his sexiness. “But it’s more than that, obviously,” I add, making sure he knows I’m serious.
“Obviously.” He smirks.
“I couldn’t do your job. Not many can. You’re brave, even when you don’t feel like you are. Remember that.”
“I will.” He smiles softly, biting into another cracker.
“Good.” I nod, and we go back to eating, this time a comfortable silence between us.
I watch the flames dance and crackle in the fireplace as my knee rests against Ryan’s. Connected in the most non sexiest of ways, and yet I feel it–the charge between us. Through our freaking knees.
The girl who always has something to say is silenced by the gentle touch of a man’s knee…
I’m screwed.
Taking a deep breath, I finish my bowl of soup and place it on the coffee table. I have so many things I want to ask him, that I want to know about him, but the words won’t form.
We’re already in murky waters, and knowing more about him is only going to muddy the waters further.
“I think I’ll go back to bed. Thanks for feeding me,” I say, standing. “Sorry for interrupting your work.”
“Don’t be.”
“Alright, goodnight.”
“’Night, Ashley.”
My heart thuds at the sound of my name from his lips, but I just nod, and head back upstairs. I can’t read into this–us. There is no us. There’s just me, and there’s him. No ‘we,’ and no ‘us.’
Crawling back into bed, I curl into the comforter and stare at the wall. I’m just staying with him until the storm passes, and then I’m going back to Dottie’s.
Maybe if I keep telling myself this, then it’ll finally sink in. This whole ‘playing house’ thing needs to end before I start thinking of it as long term.
Because it’s not.
Chapter 17
Morning beautiful,
It stopped snowing. So be ready at 6 sharp – I’m taking you out.
-Ry
I smile, reading the note Ryan left for me on the nightstand. Thank fuck, it stopped snowing!
But…if it stopped snowing, then I’ll have to leave, and this is over. The huge smile I just had quickly fades.
I have a date tonight. A date that’s not with some random guy I met online, or an asshole I met at a bar. It’s with Ryan. The man I want, can have, but can’t keep.
Groaning, I throw the covers off and dig my slippers out of my suitcase. With my feet encase
d in soft fur, I make my way downstairs, and find another thermos of hot chocolate waiting for me like yesterday.
Morning beautiful,
I made you hot chocolate again. Remember – 6 sharp. Stay warm.
-Ry
The thought that he can’t wait to take me out makes me smile, and my heart beats a little faster.
Grabbing the thermos, I take a sip of the hot, sweet liquid, and it’s like my insides are swimming in a pool of delicious tranquility. It’s so fucking good. He has to just melt a bar of chocolate with milk, because this sure as hell isn’t Swiss Miss.
Closing my eyes, I savor the taste. This man could seduce me with hot chocolate alone.
Grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter, I bring it, and my thermos of heaven, into the living room. Taking the same spot on the couch as yesterday, I pick up the copy of Jane Eyre I left on the table, and open to where I left off. I was distracted by Ryan’s sexy little texts yesterday, but since I turned my phone off, there will be none of that today.
It’s just me and good old Jane.
I’ve read this book twice, and both times, it left me feeling a different way. In high school, I loved it, and I thought it was such a great love story. Rochester didn’t care that Jane wasn’t the most beautiful woman, he fell for her because she’s smart and challenges him.
But then I had to read it again in college, and my professor ruined that rose-tinted view I had on Jane and Rochester. He pointed out that she settled for a life with him. Rochester kept Jane in the shadows of his secrets the entire time she was working for him. It was only when those secrets were literally destroyed, and dead, that she was able to return and accept his love.
She was able to take back the power in the relationship, but in doing so, she also gave up what she always wanted and worked hard for–a career.
And as I sit here reading it for the third time, my opinions are swirling together. I see the love as well as the lies and manipulation. It’s almost like you can’t have one without the other. Which is pretty fucked up, but necessary for this story.
Does it have to be like that in real life, though? Do there have to be lies and secrecy separating people before they can be together?
Her Maine Reaction Page 16
