ONCE AGAIN, I throw a bucket of cold water on going further. I want to kick my own ass for slowing down the kiss and stopping her hands near my hips. I’m an asshole and a jerk and a fool.
Snuggling against me, she makes an offer I shouldn’t refuse. “You can sleep in the bed. It’s a king.”
“I’m not kicking you out of your room.”
“Who said that? We can share.”
“Ashley.”
“Carter.”
“My self-control is thinner than a fish scale right now. How would I be able to sleep knowing you’re inches away from me?”
“We don’t have to sleep.” Her voice lowers to a sexy purr. “Let’s just have sex, it doesn’t have to be the big deal we made it in high school. We both know we enjoy it, especially with each other.”
“Kill me now,” I whisper mostly to myself. “This isn’t the plan.”
“Your plan is stupid. Worst idea ever.” Confident, she straddles me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “We’re adults. Most adulting sucks, but being able to have sex when and where and with whoever we want is pretty awesome. Why deny ourselves?”
“You know why.” I lift her and set her on the cushion next to me. “I’ll be fine right here with a pillow and a blanket.”
She exhales an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve never had to beg before.”
“Another first for us. It’s good for you.”
“Pleading and throwing myself at you? It’s terrible for my ego.” Discouraged, she swings her legs off the couch and prepares to stand.
I stop her with my hand on her thigh. “Please tell me you’re kidding. You think you’re less because I won’t sleep with you?” Is this the source of her reputation? Feeding her ego with casual sex? Haven’t I done the same? Conquests offer only temporary boosts to self-esteem and loneliness. At least in my experience.
Halfheartedly, she lifts a shoulder. “You’re not a saint, Carter. Far from it. Neither am I. Now suddenly you want to reclaim your virginity or save yourself for a serious relationship? You’re full of shit.”
“I have zero desire to be a virgin, but what’s wrong with wanting an emotional connection with sex?” I’m a hypocrite and I expect you to call me on it.
Disbelief shades her response. “I don’t believe that’s what you’re after.”
“Okay, you tell me what my motivations are.” This should be interesting.
Her spine stiffens and she juts out her chin. “You want to prove a point about relationships. Convince me how wonderful it is to be tied to another person.”
“Was it so bad?” I ask, coyly.
With a frown, she doesn’t take my bait. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Relationships aren’t worth the pain. I’ve learned my lesson already. With you.”
“Talk about total bullshit. Look at me.”
Ignoring my request, she stands up without facing me. “I’ll get your blanket and a pillow.”
“Whatever lies you’re telling yourself, don’t put them on me. I’ve never once, ever, said I want to tie you down. Not now, not then. In fact, I know I said the opposite. We all know you’re slumming it by hanging out with me.”
Her hair floats over her shoulder when she spins to gawk at me. “What?”
“Look around. Fancy condo. Living in town.”
“Big mortgage and close to work,” she counters, defensive.
“Successful businesses. Independent,” I continue.
Her voice is sharp when she responds. “I’ve worked my ass off building my business. I’ve sacrificed, lost sleep, have zero balance in my life to get here. I’ve fought and scrambled for every penny I’ve ever made.”
She’s proving my point with every defense of her life. “Now me. Living on the island. Renting a tiny house in the woods. Driving a beat-up truck. Former groundskeeper, now goat boy. Forever picking up the pieces of the mess I call my dad.”
Listed all together, I sound more pitiful than pragmatic.
“Don’t.” She shakes her head, heavy hearted.
“Life’s easy when you’re lazy and unambitious like me.” I try to shrug off the lingering melancholy of my reality with a lame attempt at humor.
“Stop. Don’t put yourself down like that. You’ve always been too hard on yourself. Always taking on other people’s burdens and problems like they’re your own.”
“We make a great pair, don’t we?” I lightly graze her fingertips with mine.
“Only difference is I’m not ashamed of who I am. Sure, there are moments I’d love to forget, and times I cringe thinking about things I’ve said. But I own who I am. If I feel shame, it’s for my own messes, not who I am. So don’t you dare put me on a pedestal and try to make me perfect.”
Have I been doing that?
Exasperated, she continues. “I’m not perfect. I failed at being a good girl and it blew up in my face. Fuck expectations and other people putting their issues on me. I’m imperfect, Carter. I mess up. I won’t apologize to you or to anyone for being me. I deserve to be happy on my terms, not anyone else’s definition of happiness.”
I’m too stunned to think of a comeback as she walks out of the room and down another hall. I’m sitting with my elbows resting on my knees and my hands twisted in my hair when she returns. I spot her sock-clad feet in front of me and feel the weight of the blankets hit the cushion next to me before lifting my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Her frustration fades.
“I don’t want you to be on a pedestal,” I say solemnly. I mean it.
“You’re the one who put me on it. Idealizing someone isn’t the same as loving them. Look at what I did with Tom.”
I balk at his name.
Sensing my rising anger, she deflects. “It’s not his fault.”
“Bullshit,” I cough out the word. “He didn’t treat you right.”
“Carter?”
I stare up at her.
“He’s not worth it. I didn’t do anything with him I didn’t want to. I own my mistakes. Including him. And you. We can’t fix the past. Placing a halo on my head is as bad as throwing me in the gutter like yesterday’s trash.”
“I don’t believe that. I will forever want to kick his ass.” Tom played cat and mouse with Ashley for years, then discarded her when Hailey King caught his attention. Hailey won his heart and Ashley earned more contempt for not going away quietly.
“Please don’t. For me.” She runs her hands through my hair and I lean into her touch, surrounded by her soft scent of flowers and citrus.
I don’t resist my reaction to her hands on me. An innocent brush of her fingers sends the hum of electricity throughout my body. I wonder if she knows how she affects me. How much I crave her. How much I love her.
In the morning, Ashley insists on driving her car to the appointment. I offer to ride in the backseat so she can pretend I’m not there. She declines with a flash of both her middle fingers.
“You can ride shotgun.” She points at the passenger door.
I cover my smile with my hand as I stroke my short beard.
“Stop being chipper.”
Flattening my expression, I ask, “Chipper? Who says that?”
“I’m not a morning person.” She points to the giant tumbler of coffee in her hand.
“Good thing you’re in the coffee business.” I take my co-pilot position.
“When it comes to coffee, I’m Templeton at the fair.”
“Who?” She’s speaking in girl code.
“Charlotte’s Web? The rat?”
“The spider and pig book?” Confused by the turn in conversation, I frown. “I hate spiders.”
She clutches her heart with the hand not holding her bucket of coffee. “Everyone cried when we read it aloud in fourth grade.”
“Spiders and crying? Sounds terrible.” I fasten my seatbelt as she climbs in next to me.
“How did you not read it?”
“I don’t know. I probably skimmed it and then faked my book report based on the cartoon.”
I’m being judged by my actions twenty years ago. I swear she gives me the silent treatment as she backs out of the garage and drives toward the street, occasionally sipping from her coffee.
Focusing on the present, I switch topics. “After the meeting, we’ll swing by and get my truck. You can pack some stuff for Dan and Roslyn’s. Do you want to leave your car over here?” An idea pops into my head. “Stop the car.”
“Why?” She barely slows down.
“I’m going to go stake out the hut.”
“This isn’t a cop buddy movie, Carter.” She’s amused, but I’m serious.
“But it could be. Do you want to be Turner or Hooch?”
“Definitely not someone named Hooched.”
“Hooch. Like moonshine. He’s a dog. Bull mastiff if I remember correctly.”
She hits the brakes a little harder than necessary. “I’m not the dog.”
“Fine. Be Turner. You make a better Tom Hanks. In any case, I’m going to hang around the hut and see if anyone suspicious shows up.”
“How would you know they’re suspicious?” She sounds doubtful of my ninja abilities.
“I’ll know. I can always tell.” Confident in my people watching expertise, I tap my temple. “I have keen observation skills.”
“Right. For a guy whose shirt is on inside out.” She points at my chest.
I look down to confirm as she laughs.
“Gotcha.” She does a quick U-turn and stops by my truck on the street. “Why’d you park out here? I have a guest spot.”
“Um. Well.” I rub my palms on my thighs. “The truck is kind of big. Wasn’t sure if it would fit.”
She gives me a questioning look out of the corner of her eye. “Right. Something to do with my uptight neighbors?”
“The truck’s kind of a mess. I didn’t want to ruin your image.”
She laughs, really laughs, closing her eyes and wiping away tears.
“What’s so funny?”
“My image? My reputation is so shredded it’s confetti.” She pretends to toss the imaginary paper pieces into the air. “Honestly, the nice thing about living here is no one bothers to know me, or even speak to me more than hello. It’s a happy, anonymous bubble compared to the island.”