Summer ever after, p.14
Summer Ever After, page 14
Something flickered across her face, quick and vulnerable, and he forced himself to look back at the hutch instead of asking her what she was thinking.
She stood up suddenly and walked over to rinse her coffee cup.
“I’ve got this. Why don’t you go rest?” He’d seen her holding back a yawn. The bruises on her arms and face were a light yellow already and the cuts no longer needed bandages. There were still dark circles under her eyes, hinting that she still needed rest. “You can head in and watch television if you want.” He finished cleaning her mug.
“Thanks,” she said, touching his arm. “I am still tired. I think I may just head upstairs and rest a little more.”
“Good,” he said, leaning back, satisfaction written across his face. “That’s the only item on your agenda. Rest. Doctor’s orders.”
Her brow arched. “You’re not a doctor.”
“No,” he said, his mouth twitching into a grin, “but I’m pretty damn good at looking out for people who need it.”
He watched her go before starting in on his normal day-off chore list. For the next few hours, he remained outside, feeding, watering, and exercising all of the animals.
By lunchtime, he was starving and headed inside, where Beth was fast asleep on the sofa with the news playing softly on the television. As quiet as he could, he headed into the kitchen to fix them some lunch.
He ended up making them some sandwiches, which he cut diagonally on a tray like his mother used to do when he stayed home sick from school. He also put out some potato salad he’d bought at the store and some crackers and tuna dip. He had finished setting the table and putting a few of the flowers she’d gotten in the hospital in the center of the table when Beth walked in.
“Are you hungry?”
Beth nodded and he pulled out the chair for her.
“Tea or lemonade?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of tea.
“Tea.” She watched him as he worked. “This looks amazing,” she said when he sat across from her. “Do you always go all out for every meal?”
He chuckled. “No, but I’m hoping to impress you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her smile grow. “I figured it was the least I could do to make you feel more at home.”
“At home, I would have had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with potatoes chips and a soda. This is more like being waited on hand and foot.”
“I could stop?” he teased.
“Only if you get tired of it.” She laughed.
She seemed steadier now, as if the relaxing morning had done her a world of good.
“After lunch, do you want some help putting all your new things away?” he asked as they ate.
She glanced towards the stairs and then shrugged. “If you have nothing better to do. I hung a few things up, but…” She held up her right hand, still covered in bruises.
He nodded. “I’d be happy to help.”
It took them nearly an hour to sort through her new things. Most were still in their packages or the bags they’d been delivered in. While she sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, he hung shirts in the empty closet and folded shorts, pants, socks, and pajamas and put them into the drawers of the dresser. She’d pull a tag loose here, smooth a sleeve there, her voice soft as she admitted she’d forgotten what it felt like to own clothes that someone else had picked out for her. He didn’t say anything to that, just kept busy making sure everything was lined up neatly.
At some point, her answers slowed, words trailing off, and he realized that she’d laid down and drifted off to sleep while lying sideways on the comforter, her eyes closed, breaths even. The plastic tags still littered the floor, but he didn’t care. He tugged the blanket over her shoulders and stood there a long moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the tension finally eased from her face.
Downstairs, he busied himself cleaning up the lunch mess. Then he tossed the shopping bags, broke down some boxes in the garage, wiped counters that didn’t need wiping, and mopped the floors. Anything to keep his hands moving, because if he stopped, he’d picture the smoke, the flames.
He knew it was going to be a long week trying not to hover while she healed.
When the sun dipped low over the tree line, Aaron finally ran out of pointless chores to keep his hands busy. He found himself leaning against the counter in the kitchen, listening for the sound of movement upstairs. He’d almost convinced himself she’d sleep through dinner when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Beth appeared in the doorway, her hair mussed from her nap, cheeks still pink with sleep. She rubbed her eyes like she wasn’t sure if she should apologize for dozing off.
“Hey,” he said easily, pushing off the counter. “You look rested.”
“I can’t believe I slept for so long,” she admitted, her voice still husky. Then her nose lifted slightly, sniffing the air. “What smells good?”
He grinned. “That would be the homemade pizza dough that’s rising. I figured we’d make our own pizzas for dinner.”
Her brows lifted, surprised. “You make pizza dough, like for real?”
“Sure. Don’t sound so shocked. My mother used to do this every Friday night.” He washed his hands. “Grab an apron, you can help. You’re on topping duty.”
Her laugh was soft, but it filled the kitchen like sunlight. She stepped closer, tugged an apron from the hook, and slipped it on. “Okay, chef. What’s the plan?” she joked.
Together they rolled out dough. He guided her hands when she struggled to stretch it thin without tearing holes in it. She swatted him playfully away when he made a crack about her “delicate technique,” which only made him grin wider. Sauce splattered on her cheek, and when he wiped it away with a cloth, she gave him a look that made his chest tighten.
By the time the pizzas were ready to bake—pepperoni for her and loaded for him—she was laughing harder than he’d heard her laugh in weeks. He felt the tension in his chest ease as she leaned against the counter, laughing over a lopsided pepperoni smiley face she’d made on hers.
Later, with the cooked slices balanced on plates and sodas cracked open, they settled in the living room. Aaron queued up one of his favorite old movies and handed her the remote.
“Goonies?” She raised an eyebrow.
“A classic,” he said, settling onto the couch beside her. “Mandatory viewing for anyone under my roof.”
Before the opening credits had finished rolling, she was kissing him. Then she was straddling his hips, her mouth pressed to his as her fingers slid into his hair.
God, he was losing it. How was he supposed to not fall hard and fast for her?
As she continued to move over him, her fingers left his hair and pulled his shirt off. He wanted to warn her that if she continued, he may not be able to let her go. Instead, all that came out was a moan as her fingernails scraped against his skin. His own fingers were glued to her hips as she moved over him.
“Touch me,” she whispered as she trailed her mouth against his neck.
“Are you sure?” He felt his entire body vibrating.
She pulled back and looked down at him. “Aaron, touch me.” She smiled and then kissed him again.
He wasn’t slow witted. In one quick move, he shifted their bodies until she was pinned under him, laughing. Then, as their mouths connected again, he released the buttons on her top until her new white bra was exposed.
She laughed more as she reached down and helped him pull off her shorts.
Were they moving too fast? Yes.
Was he going to stop? No. Not unless she asked him to.
She was under him in only white panties and a bra, and she reached for his shorts. He helped her remove them, falling back over her in only his boxer shorts while her hands explored every inch of him. When her fingers slipped under his shorts, he felt his eyes cross.
“You’re killing me,” he growled against her skin.
“Good. Now you know what you do to me.” She wrapped her legs around his hips. “I want you inside me.”
“Beth,” he started to argue. Somewhere beyond the fog that was his desire for her, his mind screamed that he needed to move slower.
“Aaron, don’t make me beg.” She looked up at him. “No one has ever made me feel like you do. I want…” She shook her head softly. “I need to feel it again.”
He rested his forehead on hers for a split second. “Fine, but let’s…” He started to shift, but she held him still.
“No, here, now.” She lifted up and kissed him again. He was hers at that moment. He would have given her anything. Done anything for her.
Thankfully, he was able to reach his wallet and grab a condom, and he slid it on as the rest of their clothes hit the ground. They tangled together.
When he slid into her, it was like coming home for the first time. Safe. Magical.
Hell, he’d never felt as close to anyone as he felt to her. Years of starving for that connection and here she was.
Whatever he had to do to keep her safe, he’d do.
After, when they lay on the sofa, still naked and wrapped around one another, they watched the movie together. He pulled the thick soft blanket from the back of the sofa over them, and halfway through the movie she was fast asleep in his arms. With his body wrapped around hers, the glow from the TV lighting her face, he let himself dream of what it would be like if she stayed here, with him, forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Waking up naked in Aaron’s arms was, well, heaven. For one blissful moment, she forgot about the fire, the ashes, the insurance calls. Forgot about everything except the solid warmth of his chest under her cheek, the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
Then reality crept in. Her clothes, what little there had been, were scattered across the living room floor. The TV screen glowed faintly blue since the movie had ended hours before. She could just see the faint sunlight as dawn broke outside the large windows.
She stirred, stretching against him. His arm tightened briefly around her waist, then loosened as he pressed a kiss into her hair.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice still husky with sleep.
Her lips curved and she relaxed for one more moment. “Morning.”
Reluctantly, she shifted away from him and reached for her bra where it had landed near the end of the sofa. “I’m starved and need a shower.” She laughed as she pulled on the rest of her clothes.
“I’ll cook, you shower,” he said, sitting up.
She took a quick moment to appreciate just how handsome he was. Toned, narrow hips, strong arms. He had a runner’s body, unlike the boxier build Ian had.
They dressed quietly, stealing little smiles as they tugged on clothes. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and, after another quick kiss, padded upstairs, leaving him to fuss in the kitchen.
The bathroom sat between the two guest rooms, both hers now, she supposed. One was set up as a small office, and she had set her new laptop on the desk and planned to request new credit cards and IDs later that day.
When she stepped into the bathroom, Beth stopped in her tracks, her gaze sweeping the space as she took it in. Her old apartment bathroom had been barely half this size, cramped and shadowy compared to the light and warmth of this one.
The white tile gleamed as if it had just been polished, catching the glow from the frosted glass shower doors. Thick, soft rugs in a calming shade of green were laid out in front of the shower and the wide sink cabinet, inviting her bare feet to sink into them.
It felt like something pulled straight from a home improvement show—thoughtful, polished, and quietly luxurious.
To the side of the sink, on a long wall, sat a wooden shelf that held neatly rolled towels that carried the faint, comforting scent of cedar and fresh laundry. A small vase of wildflowers sat on the counter, their colors brightening the space. The little touch made her throat tighten unexpectedly, as if Aaron had thought of her before she’d ever stepped foot inside.
She turned on the shower, and steam filled the air as she stripped down again. The hot water cascaded over her bruised shoulders, her aching muscles, and she braced her hands against the cool tile, letting herself breathe. The night before had been… everything. Too fast, maybe. Too reckless. And yet her chest warmed just remembering the way he had touched her, the way he had looked at her like she was something precious instead of broken.
When she finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in an oversized towel, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Damp hair clung to her face and there was a faint flush to her skin, the marks of exhaustion softening just slightly. Her bruises had turned yellow and green now, and her scratches were better. For the first time in days, she didn’t look entirely lost.
The smell of bacon drifted up the stairs. Her stomach growled. She pulled on some of her new clothes, a pair of army green shorts and a white tank top, and padded back down to the kitchen.
Aaron was at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping golden pancakes onto a plate already stacked high. Beside them, strips of bacon sizzled and popped. A bowl of whipped cream sat on the counter, along with a small jar of blueberry preserves.
Beth leaned against the doorway, smiling despite herself. “You’re showing off.”
He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Damn right I am, just for you.” He winked. “Blueberry pancakes with my great-grandmother’s recipe. They are the best in three counties.”
She laughed and walked in, slipping into a chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever had pancakes that come with their own toppings bar.”
“Get ready,” he said, sliding a plate in front of her piled with pancakes, bacon on the side. He dolloped whipped cream and blueberries on top with exaggerated flair, like a waiter in a fancy restaurant. “Breakfast à la Aaron.”
She picked up her fork, shaking her head. “If you keep this up, I may never leave.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her chest tightened, but Aaron only looked at her a moment longer than necessary before chuckling softly.
“That’s the plan,” he said.
Beth’s heart soared as she lowered her gaze to her pancakes, trying to hide the emotions that were tugging at her heart.
They ate together at the table. The morning sunlight spilled through the wide kitchen windows and caught Aaron’s hair, making his smile look almost too easy. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d sat down to a meal that wasn’t grabbed on the go, microwaved, or eaten out of a takeout box.
“These are unfair,” she said around a bite of pancake, pointing her fork at him. “Now I’ll never be able to eat diner pancakes again without being disappointed.”
Aaron chuckled, sipping his coffee. “I’ll add that to my résumé. Destroyer of diner breakfasts.”
The laughter that followed warmed something deep inside her, easing the ache that never seemed to leave her chest. They lingered over coffee until the plates were mostly empty, then stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink, rinsing dishes and passing them back and forth. He washed while she dried, their elbows bumping now and then. Every time she glanced up, he was already looking at her, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It felt… dangerously good. Like slipping into a rhythm she hadn’t even known she wanted.
Once the counters were wiped down and the kitchen restored, Beth hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her tank top. “Hey, could you maybe help me with my laptop? I need to, you know, get my digital life back in order.”
“Of course.” He didn’t even pause, just motioned for her to lead the way.
They went upstairs into the room she’d claimed as an office. The desk was neat except for the unopened laptop, still sitting where she’d left it in its box.
For the next hour, Aaron helped her set it up. There were updates, passwords to set up, software to install. His long fingers moving confidently over the keyboard as the system booted up after the last install. She perched beside him on the chair, close enough that his knee brushed hers.
Her heart beat faster, not from nerves over the machine, but from the simple closeness.
Finally, the machine was ready to use and he sat back while, one by one, she tackled the to-do list she’d been dreading. First up, she requested replacement credit cards from each of her banks and filled out address change forms for all of her accounts. Next, she applied for a duplicate driver’s license from the state, thankful that they had an online form and would mail it to her in the coming days.
Each task seemed so daunting on its own, but as she checked another one off, she started to feel like she was taking back tiny pieces of her life.
When the final confirmation screen popped up, she sagged back into the chair with a sigh. “That is a start to getting my life back.”
Aaron nudged her shoulder with his. “It’s progress.”
Beth looked at him, really looked at him—the way his eyes softened when they met hers, the way he seemed completely unbothered by the mess of her life bleeding into his. And for the first time since the fire, she let herself believe maybe she wasn’t as lost as she’d thought.
“Since you helped me, can I help you outside with the animals?”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
She nodded. “I could use the fresh air.”
Aaron gave her one of those quiet, patient smiles, the kind that didn’t push but left the choice in her hands.
“Sure. You might want to change into those new boots you got.” He motioned to her bare feet.
“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” She jumped up and headed into her bedroom.
She met him downstairs in a pair of jean shorts and a short-sleeved checkered shirt, along with a new pair of socks and her new climbing boots. He led her out the back door, across the wide porch, and down towards the barn.
She noticed how he moved with practiced ease, grabbing buckets, turning on the pump, filling water troughs until they bubbled over. Beth trailed after him, taking in the neat rows of fencing, the chickens scratching in their pen, the group of horses that lifted their heads curiously as the two of them approached.
