Ash woke with a grumbling stomach and a grumbling cat.
He showered, and dressed in shorts and the olive T-shirt Danielle had saved up to buy him for his birthday. He clapped his hands together. Time to eat and then sort out the apartment.
Danielle emerged from her side of the dividing curtain. She smiled as she pinned up her dark hair. “We’re kinda out of bread,” she said apologetically.
Ash’s stomach protested on his behalf, rumbling audibly.
Danielle lifted a cocky brow. “Tell you what, I’ll run down to the shops and buy some.”
Ash ransacked his wallet for change, and Danielle skipped out the door, keys jangling.
He made tea to calm his protesting belly and sipped it at the opened window, overlooking a rundown playground in the courtyard. The spire of the town church peeked out over rooftops, a symbol of the affluent side of Greenville. Beautiful, and out of his reach.
Chucky jumped up on a stack of Danielle’s books, toppling them to the floor. She skittered away under the bed Ash hadn’t lifted back into a couch.
He picked up Danielle’s physics textbooks. Their spines pressing into his palm threw Ash back to the library. To the moment he’d spotted River at his feet. The moment he’d landed in his arms.
He bit his lip.
Ash wriggled on his stomach and peered under the couch. “Come on, Chucky,” he said rubbing his fingers together. “Come ’ere.”
The key sliding into the door and Danielle’s sugary laugh had Ash whacking his head against the underside of the bed. He groaned and rubbed the sore spot as two pairs of feet strolled into the apartment.
The scuffed black pair on the right, his sister’s school boots. The large, gray canvas sneakers, River’s.
Ash knelt. From here, River appeared bigger. Firm and packaged nicely with frustration. Far more wrecked than he had been last Friday. The faint scent of hay and soil hit Ash’s lungs like a burst of fresh air.
River stared down at him with amusement sparkling in tired eyes.
Ash thanked his lucky stars the coffee table buffered them, else his face would be at River’s denim-covered crotch. The crotch he’d glanced at twice. Make that three times.
Impossible not to from this position. Anybody would have.
Ash hurriedly bent and called his cat again.
“Ass-up Ashley,” his sister said. “River here says he knows you? He was loitering outside our door, I made a judgment call and let him in.”
Ass-up, Ashley? Fuck his life.
He leaped to his feet, stirring a gentle laugh out of River.
“Bread’s here,” Danielle said, and a loaf of bread walloped onto the coffee table. “Gotta race for the bus.”
Ash nodded. “Will you be home this afternoon? I’d love to see you before space camp.”
“Um, well . . . Billy and I are heading to the library to study.”
“Billy? Is that the guy you’re into?”
Danielle prickled. “Yeah, so?”
“Condoms!”
Danielle’s face crimsoned—surely mirroring his own—and River turned to hide a growing grin.
“I won’t end up like Mom, okay?” she said quietly. “I have safe sex. I’m on the pill.”
Ash gulped. He hadn’t known for sure that Danielle was having sex, and the knowledge made his stomach drop. Not only because she was sixteen and sexually active but because he feared history repeating itself.
He pushed that fear aside and focused on his sister. “The pill? How are you getting it?”
“Don’t worry, it’s free.”
Ash stuttered. “D-do you need to any medical checkups or . . .?”
Danielle looked as uncomfortable as Ash felt. “Every six months. I’m taking care of it.”
“Good. Uh, if you need anything—”
Danielle’s embarrassment deflated and she pulled him into a hug. “You do enough already. Stop worrying about me all the time and start worrying about yourself.” She pulled back with an obvious glance over his shoulder at River. “Find some friends. Have some fun.”
Air-kissing him goodbye, she snatched up her school bag and raced off, leaving Ash alone with River.
Ash fidgeted. Opened the loaf of bread and drew out a slice.
“Want something on that?” River asked.
“You were loitering outside my door?”
“Didn’t want to disturb you if you were sleeping.”
Ash bit into the dry bread, chastising the way his toes curled against the threadbare carpet. “I thought you were coming later?”
River stole the bread from him and moved to the kitchenette. He pinched a plate off the drying rack, found some butter and jam in the fridge, and proceeded to throw the butter away. “Rancid.”
“You could have scraped the outer layer off.” Ash flew to the bin, scouring to see if the butter might be salvageable.
River bored him with a frown. “You’d have eaten that?”
Heat swamped Ash, but he held his head high. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
A soft, contemplative look crossed River’s face. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you another one.”
“It’s fine. Butter was almost finished anyway.” Not true. There was a quarter of a block left.
River spread a thick layer of jam over the bread and handed it to him. He cut right to it. “It’s Lester’s legacy.”
“Will you change your mind about deeding it to me if I wanted to sell?”
“No,” River said without hesitation. “It’s yours no matter what you decide. But.”
“It’s two hundred thousand dollars,” Ash said quietly. “I could scram out of this place. I’d have Danielle’s college expenses sorted. I could afford fresh butter.”
River rested his ass against the narrow bench. “Or you’d have a modest future and keep Lester’s legacy running.”
His gaze seared into Ash’s. River’s eyes had rings under them. His hair was tussled, and not in the fashionable way this time. He hadn’t slept much.
Maybe because of Birch Lagoon’s offer.
Maybe he feared Ash might be considering selling.
As if sensing Ash’s hesitance, River implored him again. His love for Lester was visceral. It weighted his voice. Deepened the blue of his eyes. “You didn’t know Lester. True. But that doesn’t mean you can’t know who he was. Silver Pines is full of his history. There are photos. Hundreds of letters.”
Letters that might tell him about his father and whether he knew about Ash.
No. He was a self-sufficient adult. He didn’t need a father now . . .
“I’ve got to get my cat!” Ash flurried to the medicine drawer and pulled out a small pill. Then he was ass-up again, singing to Chucky to slide out from under the bed.
River cleared his throat. “You have a cat?”
Ash silently thanked him for the reprieve. “Yes. Maybe you could put those sculpted biceps to good use and lift the side of the couch?”
With a snort, River followed his instructions until Ash had Chucky in his arms. “Now for the hard part.” He crouched on the floor over his squirming cat. How did she always sense when he was about to feed her a pill?
“Hard part?” River dropped to his knees, settling a firm hand over squabbling Chucky. Chucky immediately ceased moving.
What the hell kind of sorcery was that?
“I need to pop this tiny tablet on Chucky’s tongue.”
“Chucky?” River smirked. “As in Cheese? Or the sadistic doll?”
“Sure. Whichever tickles you most. Chucky’s a she, though.”
Ash could hardly concentrate on the cat or the pill pinched between his fingers. His brain had fried the moment River started petting Chucky—and Ash’s hand in the process. The shock of River’s skin sailing over his rippled up his arm.
“Hey, Chucky,” River said in a deep, calming tone. “This won’t take long, honey.”
Well, fry his heart as well. “You seem to have a lot of honeys in your life.”
River winked at him. “There’s always room for more.” He took the pill from Ash, firmly held the cat, and popped the pill in her mouth. No protest of powerful claws. No strangled meow.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what? Give her the pill?’
“Without her so much as peeping.”
“I’m a vet specializing in equine medicine. I travel to local farms and take care of horses.” River leaned forward. “You caught me with my honey, an 1100-pound Appaloosa, at work yesterday.”
Ash blushed. Stupid.
These shiver-inducing moments had to stop.
“Those letters,” he said, redirecting their conversation to someplace safe. Well, safer. “Are there any from Phillip?”
“I can give you Phillip’s address along with a whole wealth of Mallory history.”
“Mallory,” Ash said, tasting the name on his tongue. Mallory history. His history.
Maybe his Mallory side was better than his Heartford one?
He had two weeks to sign the deeds and sell Silver Pines. He could use the time to search through Lester’s things. Maybe contact his father. Finally put lifelong questions to rest.
“I have to work, but after . . .” Ash took a deep breath. “I’d like you to give me Phillip’s address. Show me Silver Pines.”
* * *
Ash didn’t own a car.
The bus out to Silver Pines was infrequent at best, and River would bet the buttons on his shirt Ash had never paid for an Uber.
River was giving him a ride, perfectly content traipsing to Ash’s jobs first. Ash was hesitant about Silver Pines, so River needed to make sure Ash checked the place out.
Needed to make the man fall in love with the bookstore.
River understood the allure of selling. One glance at Ash’s apartment said everything. He didn’t hate Ash for considering the money.
But it disappointed him. Lester had put all his money, love, and life into Silver Pines. It had meant everything to him.
It meant as much to River too.
River dropped Ash to an office space outside Beauview and used the time to duck into the local store for an unnecessary amount of groceries. When Ash directed River to a house on the Millionaire Row, River was too ashamed to admit he lived right around the corner.
He didn’t dare hide in his car where the neighbors would recognize him, so he snuck in through the servants quarters behind Ash.
He recognized the place immediately. Chance Roosevelt-Sutton’s house. His parent’s third—forth? tenth?—house. But Chance lived here alone.
River had never hated being wealthy.
Until now, as Ash dropped on all fours in the obscenely large second kitchen to scrub Lazy-Ass Chance’s tiles. They didn’t pay guys like Ash nearly enough.
“Can’t you use a mop?”
“There’s dried spaghetti sauce flecking the tiles and the cupboard doors. Removing requires elbow grease.”
“Do you have a second pair of rubber gloves?”
Ash gave him a bewildered look, then tempered it, nodding to the basket of cleaning equipment. “Better you helping me than staring at me.”
River laughed, dropped to his knees, and picked up some gloves. “The staring wasn’t so bad from where I was standing.”
Ash snapped his head up at him, those green eyes stealing River’s breath.
A light blush worked up Ash’s neck, and he looked away quickly. He drew a line of in the middle of the kitchen with his cloth. “Race you.”
River pushed up his sleeves and grinned. “I’m going to win.”
“You haven’t even started.”
“Yeah, but I’m going to win.”
“Your glove is inside out.”
River glanced at the offending glove and winked at Ash. “I was testing your observational skills.”
Ash’s eyes sparked. “Let’s test yours, then.” He gestured to the basket of sprays. “What spray have I been using?”
River roamed a hand over the various bottles, watching Ash closely. When his eyes widened slightly, River plucked up a bottle.
Ash snorted. “That’s for calcium buildup. But since you seem so happy, I can let you scrub the sinks as well.”
“You’re laughing at me,” River said teasingly.
“You’re quite laughable.” Ash picked out the correct spray and tossed it to him. “Light layer of this. Let’s see you beat me.”
River sprayed his half of the tiled floor. “I’ll have you know, I clean up my own spilled kitchen messes. I’m good on my hands and knees.”
Ash whipped up his head, and their gazes locked.
“I don’t know,” Ash said, voice husky in a way that had River shivering. “You seem like a lot of talk to me.”
“I’ll show you.” River set down the spray, paused at two yellow and blue cloths draped over the edge of the basket. “Which cloth?”
Ash laughed, tossing him the correct one.
“Go!”
They scrubbed, gazes jerking as they eyed each other’s progress. River was taller, so he could scrub wider circles.
Ash was faster, though. And determined to win. His smirk suggested he knew as much.
“I’m being thorough,” River tossed back. At Ash’s disbelieving arched brow, River pressed on. “I’m a freak for thoroughness. I like to take my time. Make sure I’m giving my all.”
Ash shook his head. His lips hadn’t stopped quirking. Quite the breath-stealing view. “Your all,” Ash agreed, a shiver-inducing gaze roaming over River. “Heart, soul, and sleeve.”
River blinked down. The cuff of his sleeve had slipped over the glove and he was rubbing it in circles over the floor.
“Damn Chance,” River cursed under his breath.
Ash laughed. “He’s actually one of my better employers.”
River huffed. Hard to believe.
His thoughts spun to his brother Landon and his unrequited love for the guy. Seriously, how could Landon love a man who waited for the cleaner to wipe up spilled sauce?
His annoyance grew when they cleaned Chance’s bedroom, come-crusted sheets and all. Chance’d gotten lucky recently, judging by the lacy panties clinging to the pillowcase.
Ash cleaned everything in the house with efficiency and precision, but he hesitated at the panties. His neck flushed, and he glanced at River.
The look lanced through River.
Too full of humiliation.
The only person who should be ashamed was Chance.
River swooped in and dealt with the underwear. Quick and methodic, he stripped the bed sheets too. Ash continued with the rest of the room.
When they were done and settled back in River’s car, Ash caught his eye. “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to.”
“Lester would have turned over in his grave if I’d just watched.” He grinned at Ash as he started the car. “No matter how good the view.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “He sounds like he would have been a good role model.”
“Except for the part when he batted his cane against everyone’s ass, you’d be right.”
“He did that?” Ash sounded more than curious. He sounded wistful.
“Always in good nature.” River drove toward Silver Pines. He glanced at Ash, unable to hold back from asking about the man’s family. “Do you have any other fun-crazy relatives? Aunt? Stepdad?”
Ash played with his seat belt, snapping it at his chest. “Danielle is fun. Crazy dramatic, sometimes. Does that count?”
River gripped the wheel. He’d suspected from the moment he’d seen Danielle and Ash interact that he was raising her, but he wanted to know why. “How long has your sister been living with you?”
“Since our mom died. Four years.” Ash tossed out the answer like it was no big deal, but it made River swallow.
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Um, thanks.”
River cleared his throat. “You’ve been looking after Danielle since you were a kid.”
“Twenty-one is hardly a kid.”
“Hardly an adult, either.” Too young for such responsibility. “I saw your schedule for the week on the fridge. Sixteen hours most days. . .”
“Private school doesn’t pay for itself.”
River stifled an apologetic curse.
Ash’s stubbornness to do right by his sister reminded River so much of Lester that it felt like he was sitting next to his best friend.
River’s insides tingled with the need to help.
He parked his car and ushered Ash onto the sunny sidewalk. “Here we are. Lester’s home and legacy.”