Shoveling Goat Shit
Keelie
“Dad, I’m heading home and Emma wants to come with me.” Asa starts to stand, but his son stops him. “We’re good. Stay if you want.”
Asa looks conflicted. “Keep an eye on your sister and call me if you need me. I’ll make sure this fire is burned out for Keelie and be right home.”
“Sounds good.” Levi looks to me. “Thanks for dinner, Ms. Lockhart.”
“Thank you for putting up with Saylor. And for the tenth time, you can call me Keelie when we’re not at school.”
Levi smirks and disappears into the house.
It’s not even ten o’clock yet, the evening flew by. Saylor and Knox met Levi, who was as patient with them as his sister. My kids love Emma because she humors them and they love her brother just as much because he’s a human jungle gym. I had to practically tear them off Levi so we could eat dinner. When the six of us sat around my table, we learned that Asa took his kids to the last Olympics, hence the shirt. I ate in silence as my son asked two million questions about their adventure, all the while, my experience with three extra people in my house was … odd.
Not good odd or bad odd—just plain odd.
When it was time for Saylor to sit and read for fifteen minutes, she only threw a mild fit, and since no one went running from my property, this might mean we’re breaking Asa and his kids in slowly.
Trial by fire, as they say.
Levi and Emma studied and finished homework as I got my kids ready for bed. When I came downstairs, my fireworks burst into a blistering explosion. Emma was tucked under her dad’s arm sitting on my sofa while Levi was stretched out on the floor. Asa was spending time with his kids, talking about their day, making memories while doing nothing spectacular, yet still special in a way they’ll have it forever.
I let them be, poured myself a glass of wine, grabbed a blanket, and slipped out the back door onto my patio to give them privacy.
About twenty minutes later, I heard the door open and felt Asa brush my hair over my shoulder. When I looked up, he muttered, “It’s cold out here,” and proceeded to start me a fire.
I could get used to this—Asa’s touches, Asa being thoughtful, watching Asa with his kids … the list seems never ending.
This is where we’ve sat in comfortable silence, with only the fire crackling as it warms us.
It’s time I break the quiet because it’s been nagging at my brain all night and look up to him. “What do you do?”
He narrows his eyes on me before gazing back at the fire. “I’m used to an erratic work schedule, so it seems like I don’t work much these days since I’m doing my best to be available for my kids.”
That doesn’t tell me anything, yet it says a lot. Who can support a family, travel around the world attending Olympic games, and buy barrels of wine when not working regularly? “What did you do that was so erratic?”
He runs his hand through his hair and I see his lips purse before he looks to me. After many more moments, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “I told you I’d only ever give you the truth.”
This takes me by surprise. “I appreciate that.”
“I used to be a cop—a long time ago. Now I help train a special unit that only contracts overseas. We work closely with our government and others.”
I give my head a little shake. “Doing what?”
He leans back and takes a breath, never taking his eyes off me. “Right now, I train others to work in volatile environments, dangerous terrains, and in all kinds of cultures. We train them to do things governments can’t do.”
I still don’t understand. “You’re military?”
He shakes his head. “Not even close.”
I set my wine glass down on the table and glare at him through the light of the fire. “Why did you say you’d always be honest with me and now you’re being ambiguous? Either you’re honest or you’re not. I promise I’m an open-minded person, but I will not put up with dishonesty. And FYI, I consider withholding information dishonest.”
His face softens a bit. “I get it.”
“No,” I bite. “I don’t think you do—”
“Keelie,” he interrupts. “I do.”
I shift in my seat to fully face him. “I don’t like to talk about my past, but my husband was—”
“Baby,” he halts me again by raising his voice this time. “I know.”
He can’t possibly. There’s no way.
“As a contractor, I have security clearance with the CIA,” he states.
What the hell? “What does that have to do with anything?”
He raises his brows. “I pulled your background a few days ago and that included the background of David Lockhart since he was your husband.”
My heart comes to a standstill. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I’ve lost my breath. I look away and stare into the amber flames and try to focus on something—anything but Asa, but he makes that impossible as he keeps informing me about my past.
“I know about the debt, about the trouble he had at work, and I know you’re barely holding onto this place.”
Oh, fuck. I don’t look at him. I can’t.
“Keelie, look at me.”
I shake my head. I don’t know why it’s so devastating for people to learn about David’s secrets and lies, but it is. Even though it wasn’t my doing, it makes me feel weak and vulnerable all over again. I hate it and whisper, “You had no right.”
Still not looking at him, I hear him sigh and shift closer when he lowers his voice. “Maybe.”
My eyes shoot to him and I pin him with a glare.
“Okay,” he amends. “I probably had no right. But when Knox told me his dad was dead, I utilized what access I had to learn about you.”
Biting my lip, I look back to the fire and swallow over the lump in my throat.
“I’d do it again,” he adds.
Huffing a breath of air, I shake my head. “It’s good you’re so confident in your actions, Asa. What the hell do you do that gives you access to the ins and outs of high school counselors?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I train men who are hired to take out threats against our country and our allies.”
With that, everything comes into focus and my head jerks. He’s moved his chair so he’s facing my side and has leaned in close.
I frown. “Take out?”
“Yes.”
“Kill?” I breathe.
He doesn’t move a muscle and his eyes are intense. “Yes.”
Well, okay then. I guess that makes the second mortgage and two additional loans David secretly took out on our home right after he emptied our bank and retirement accounts to support his gambling addiction seem … less exciting.
I look away and wonder what’s happened to my life. Four years ago, the man I married moved me from Alexandria to the boonies—against my wishes. I’m a city girl. Living in a brownstone with a patio garden is my idea of being one among nature. But no, just after Saylor’s first birthday, he found this dilapidated farmhouse and insisted we move—even though I didn’t want to—making me promises of rebuilding, refurbishing, clean air, and smaller schools.
I had to revert back to my education degree and take a massive pay cut because both of us couldn’t commute into the District with two small children. I gave up my job as an education lobbyist on Capitol Hill with the largest textbook publisher in the country. I loved that job and was good at it. But in the end, he was a gambling addict, on the verge of losing his job and ended up ruining us financially. Little did I know, he used all the equity we had from our previous home and squandered it with bookies and in closed-room high-dollar tables, leaving me with a jumbo loan on this place. His lies piled up and I still hate myself for being fooled for so long. That was all before he ended up at the bottom of a pileup on the highway, bequeathing me a mountain of loans that were tied to our home. Damn him.
Now I’ve invited a new man into my life who trains men to kill others. What does this say about my choice in men?
He breaks into my thoughts, not at all calming them whatsoever. “And before I trained them, I did what they do.”
I look to him and feel my eyes go big.
“For eight years,” he adds.
I feel my mouth open and then shut before it drops again. I have no words.
“Told you I’d be honest with you, baby.”
I shift in my seat and can’t help myself from crossing my arms protectively. “What does that mean? You know, for now? That sounds dangerous, or, at the very least, as if you’re inviting danger into your life.”
“I’ve taken all the precautions necessary. There’s no danger, Keelie.”
“How do you know that?” I feel my insides tense. I’ve already had one man’s actions ruin my life. It took a long time, but I’m better off on my own. I certainly don’t need some retired contract killer to bring me a whole different kind of drama.
“Because I worked with the CIA and still do. I’m not some thug off the street offing people for cash. I don’t take unnecessary risks. I’d never do that to my family, and I wouldn’t do it to you, either.”
Exhaling a breath, I look back to the fire. I think I must be losing my mind, because I think I believe him and I’m not even sure why.
“Keelie, say something,” he demands.
“That’s…” What do I say? Apparently being an overseas contract killer is a profession. Holy shit. “Really honest. Is that it or is there more honesty?”
“Besides my kids’ mother divorcing me because I was gone for weeks or more at a time leaving her with two little kids—no.”
I look away. Talk about an information dump.
He leans back in his chair. “She used that as an excuse, though. We weren’t good together.”
I look back. “Why?”
“She didn’t trust me because I was gone so much and that pissed me off. I never so much as looked at another woman when I was married to her, never gave her any reason to believe that. Made me not trust her—the whole thing fell apart. She’s remarried and happy now, we have a working relationship for the kids’ sake, but I don’t want to be with anyone who doesn’t trust me.”
“Oh.” I get the trust thing.
“That’s why I told you what I do. And what I did.”
I nod but tell him the truth. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“Baby.” His voice is low and strong. “We take out the scum of the earth—radicals, kingpins, terrorists.”
I nod again. “Okay.”
“You wanted honesty.”
I keep nodding.
“I understand why that’s important to you. I don’t go around sharing my work with everyone. Hardly anyone knows what I do, even my kids only know the general overview. When I read your bio, I knew I couldn’t keep it from you—I couldn’t keep anything from you.”
“Um, about that.” I pull in a breath. “Why exactly couldn’t you just ask me about my life?”
He reaches out, taking my hand in both of his and looks me square in the eye. “Knox told me his dad was dead approximately forty-five seconds after I told you I wanted to fuck you after we ate pizza the other night. It threw me for a loop, made me feel all kinds of an ass, and I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know everything about you and I’m not a patient man.”
I try to pull my hand out of his at the mention of him fucking me, but he holds tight. “Let me guess. This is when you sent me the it’s not you, it’s me text?”
He shakes his head and narrows his eyes. “Won’t lie, trying to figure out what’s going on with Emma is overwhelming. I’m worried about her and it’s all on me. Then after what happened to Levi, I didn’t know if I could be what you need right now.”
I feel sort of bad that this pisses me off, but it does. How the hell does he know what I need? I manage to pull my hand from his and don’t even try to keep the bitch out of my voice. “Tell me, Asa. What is it you think I need?”
He exhales one frustrated breath before he moves. I barely have a chance to react when he plucks me up from under my arms and whips me around. I let out a little yelp, but he ignores me and sits in my patio chair where I end up in his lap with my legs draped over the arm.
I push away as hard as I can, but he wraps me up and holds tight.
“What are you doing?” I exclaim.
He gives me a squeeze. “I know what you need.”
I stop pushing and freeze. “You have no idea.”
He raises a brow accepting my dare. “You need a man to earn your trust, be open with you, and tell you the truth. If he makes it that far, you could use someone to help around your fucking house, because it’s more than a full-time job. Then if he passes that, you need that man to be a man around your kids—be an example for Knox and show Saylor how a man should treat a woman. The list is long, but if you want me to continue, I’ll describe what you really need. It might make you blush and if it doesn’t, I’ll go into even more detail so it will.”
Dammit. He’s right on all counts. Breathing hard, I bite my lip to try to calm myself. If I blush now, I’ll kick my own ass.
“I can tell from your face I got all that right,” he goes on. “I won’t lie. I didn’t know if I could fill those shoes and deal with Emma’s shit. That was my mistake, because all I had to do was look into your blue eyes, with your wet hair falling around your face to know I wanted you and it made me fucking crazy to think some other man might try to be all these things. I gave you the truth. Not much more to know than what I laid out for you tonight—other than I’m not in debt and I don’t gamble. I don’t have to work, but I do. I could live off my investments, but that would bore the shit outta me.”
I shake my head and look away.
“Keelie.” He gives me a squeeze. “Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask. “You know everything about me. I just learned you used to be a contract killer and now you train others to do the same and you want to show my kids either how to be a man or be treated by one. You bring me cases of wine with promises of all kinds of fun wine activities and a barrel at the end with my name burned on it like a cherry on top. You want to say things that make me blush and I don’t like to blush. It makes me feel like a girl, but if anyone could do it, I bet it would be you. Oh yeah, you also want to help shovel goat and donkey shit. That’s a lot to take in.”
He has the nerve to grin. “I didn’t say I wanted to shovel shit, but I will if that’s what it takes.”
“That’s my life, Asa.”
“Then if this works out, it looks like I’ll be shoveling shit.”
I sigh and lean into him. “How did cornflake chicken turn into this?”
“I’m forty-three,” he states.
I shrug. “I’m thirty-five.”
“You really want me to hang around for months on end before we get this shit out? Because I have no desire to do that.”
I roll my eyes. He has a point.
“You know about me. I know about you. We can skip all that and move on. We’ll figure out if this works, but we can skip the hard getting to know you part and move onto the good stuff.”
“The good stuff?”
He scoots down in his chair, snaking a hand up my back and into my hair. “I know you like wine, but I don’t know what you eat for breakfast. If you eat eggs, I don’t know how you like them. I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for you to get ready before we go out or what you like to watch on TV.”
“I don’t have time to watch TV,” I admit.
“We’ll have to fix that.” He brings my mouth to his and kisses me as his other hand glides up and down my leg.
I lift my head, but he doesn’t stop and kisses his way down my neck. “Asa?”
“Hmm?” His tongue traces my ear.
I run my fingers over his soft beard for the first time before pulling his face to me. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m messed up. I’m afraid you’ll want out when you learn the little things.”
He gives me a genuine expression telling me he’s not feeding me a line when he says, “That’s why they’re little. They don’t matter. It’s time to move on, Keelie. Don’t be afraid.”
And there in my backyard, with the cool of the early spring night biting at us, I give in.
I just hope Asa Hollingsworth doesn’t regret it.