If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) (5 page)

Tenderness resonated in his words. Asa smiled wider.

“But when I want you to kiss me, let the stubbornness and tactics slide, Asa. Go with your feelings, sweetheart.”

Feelings?
For some reason, what he said grated on her nerves. “What? Like when you had let your guard down and let yourself
feel
that night?”

Suddenly, the flutter of happiness in her chest was gone. Regret flickered in his eyes before he averted his gaze to stare at the spot above her shoulder, toward the bedroom. Obviously, apologizing for his rudeness at his grandmother’s service was different from apologizing to her in regards to his crude and hurtful comment.

“Grab your stuff.” He headed for the door. “It’s too cold for you to stay here.”

Oh, so now was the time to change the subject and ignore what had just happened between them?
Well, fine.

“I’ll walk to town, stay at my friend Sandy’s place,” she said, trying to keep her temper in check.

His back was to her, his hand pausing over the doorknob. “You can’t. The roads are closed, and the path you use to get into town is covered knee-deep in snow. Plus, the temperature’s expected to drop farther. Come back with me to Jo’s, Asa. Go and I’d worry about you.”

How could he defuse her so easily, and really, what woman in her right mind would refuse a man after those words? Dammit, if she didn’t accept, she’d come off as a jerk. However, go without a fight, and he’d think she was still hopelessly in love with him. Rhys did realize she loved him, didn’t he?

He turned and expectantly waited for her while she scrambled for a believable excuse to not go with him. But how could she think straight when he looked at her with such intensity?

Forget how he reminded her of a Roman gladiator with his dark hair, sharp nose, and chiseled profile. None of that mattered to her. His quiet strength, love of family and friends, kindness and intelligence, in addition to his low key humor, were Rhys’s best features.

“Asa?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear a word, sweetheart?”

What was worse? Her heart kicking into a fast and hard beat when he called her his sweetheart? Or missing what he’d just said?

He reached out and swiped at a stray strand of hair falling into her eyes. “I spoke with the mayor this morning. The town is closed. All residents in close proximity are instructed to go to the senior center. They have a huge generator. I think that takes care of ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. Aside from Drew Hazard’s place, you’re the only one—”

The fleeting sadness on his face had her reaching up to stroke his cheek, but the slight tilt of his head cued her to not acknowledge his grief. With a nod, she let him know she understood, but inside she hurt. They were two lonely souls, raised to hide their emotions. A match between them had been doomed from the beginning.

Clearing his throat, he continued. “You’re the only one now who lives on the outskirts of Willowbrook.”

Uncomfortable, awkward—that’s how he must feel for continuing to show her his sorrow. With an exaggerated curtsy, and in her best English accent she said, “Then I guess I’m at the whim of your good grace since you have
the functioning
generator.”

His lips quirked and his eyes twinkled. Ducking her head to hide her smile, Asa stepped back. Otherwise, she’d hug him like she used to do when she made him happy. At this moment, there would be no hugging. Hugging led to feelings, then kissing, until she’d long for him again. That couldn’t happen.

“I’ll get my stuff,” she said and bolted for the bedroom before she changed her mind. A minute longer and she’d throw her arms around his neck.

Once she was decent and bundled, Asa locked the door behind her and followed Rhys past the parked pickup truck to Jo’s front porch. As her short legs struggled to keep up with his long strides, her stomach grumbled. The noise seemed loud in the silence. He stopped and she collided into him.

“I knew we forgot something. Do you have perishables you want transferred from your fridge to my. . .”

Asa couldn’t see him, but she grasped why his words had trailed off. “It’s okay to call her place and her stuff as your own, Rhys. Jo—” She slipped around him to look him in the face. “Jo wouldn’t mind at all.”

A mix of emotions flowed over his face before he hid them behind a scowl. Realizing he had slipped again, she pretended to adjust the backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Jo understood why you hadn’t visited much this year. She said you were happy because you were in your rightful place—riding, competing, and winning. There’s nothing in Willowbrook for you except for an old woman’s love. That’s what she said.”

Her voice shook, and she hoped Rhys thought it was more from the cold than the hurt in her heart. But the pity in his eyes told her otherwise. Gripping the strap of her backpack, she hurried to his place. When would she get over him?

“I can cook you some breakfast while you shower,” he said from behind her as they stood in front of Jo’s door.

“Um, sure.”

Mindful of how easy it’d be to go along with the impulse to lean back against his solid chest, she darted to the side to let him by but tripped on a flower pot. With quick reflexes, he anchored her body to his as she bit down a groan. She was right. His chest was solid.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, just open the door already.” “Yes, ma’am,” he said and let her go.

Relieved, she hurried inside the house. One more minute in his arms, and she was afraid she’d say to hell with their mess, and jump his bones. As he closed the door, her phone beeped.
A text message
.

“Want me to get it?” he asked.

She shrugged. Why not? Even with her gloves on, her fingers were numb. “Yes, please. Phone’s in the small upper pocket.”

He unzipped the pocket, but didn’t give her the phone. He cleared his throat several times.

“Is everything okay back there? I swear there aren’t any critters in those pockets ready to take a nip at your fingers.”

His silence had her pivoting. In one hand he held her phone while he gripped a box of condoms in the other. Asa yanked off her gloves, snatched the box from him, and stuffed it back in the pocket.

Could she die a quick death now? Or possibly prove true the theory of spontaneous combustion? She swore her cheeks—hell, her whole body was on fire.

“Those aren’t mine.”

Make him understand. That was her one thought during her moment of embarrassment. Rhys might not have romantic feelings for her, but for some reason, she had to let him know he was the only guy for her.

“Who you sleep with or what you do with your life is none of my business. Like you said, we stopped being friends months ago.”

He turned his back to her, hurled open the door, and stormed out before she had a chance to explain. The condoms weren’t hers. They were Eve’s, slipped into Asa’s backpack as a hint to forget Rhys and move on. But, she wasn’t a one night stand kind of girl.

In a daze, she wandered to the bathroom and set the backpack on the floor. He won’t be out there long. The cold would send him back to the house. Ignoring the box of condoms, she glanced at the message on her screen. Eve had made it safely to her brother’s place.

After convincing herself Rhys was a grown man and could take care of himself in the elements of the Pacific Northwest, Asa attempted to focus on the simple task of taking a shower. Her gaze darted around Jo’s bathroom. The space had the touches of a woman—floral shower curtains, pink rugs in front of the toilet and tub, and a pink toilet cover.

Frilly white curtains hung across the only window. On either side of the bathroom was a door. The two bedrooms in Jo—Asa shook her head as she stripped off her clothes. The place belonged to Rhys now.

Once the water heated to the right temperature, she stepped beneath the spray and let her mind wander. Unfortunately, her thoughts were about Rhys, and with the thoughts came the memories from their years of friendship.

She recalled the times they’d walk along the river and talk until the sun set. Oftentimes, on lazy summer days, they’d lie on the grass, blink into the sunshine, and say nothing. Being in each other’s company had been enough. By far though, the best memory was of her high school graduation, when Rhys had showed up unannounced.

It wasn’t the surprise of his visit that had left her breathless with happiness. No, he had rushed the stage, picked her up, and swung her in front of the crowd. And before he’d set her on her feet again, he had whispered in her ear how proud he was of her, the class valedictorian. Under the water, Asa smiled. Moments like those had her falling hard and fast for him.

Finished with her shower, she stepped out, grabbed a towel from a small cabinet, and dried her hair and body.

“When you’re ready, I can start cooking.”

His voice on the other side of the door hadn’t startled her. Instead, the deepness of it had her flushing with longing. Damn her traitorous body.

“I’ll be out in five.”

After she’d dressed and pulled her damp hair into a ponytail, she found Rhys waiting for her in the kitchen with an opened carton of eggs and a package of bacon.

“Two eggs scrambled and two pieces of bacon fried to a crisp, right?”

Wow, he remembered. “Yes, please, and you’re totally awesome for offering to cook.”

He cocked a brow. “Got something on your mind, Asa? Your sweetness has me thinking you have ulterior motives.”

“I’ve always been sweet, so I don’t know where you get this idea that I’m—”

“With Eve, you’re sweet. With me . . .”

She held her breath.
With me what?

“With me, you’re you.”

God, what the hell did that mean? She wanted to shake the answer out of him. Instead, she said, “I want to talk about what happened earlier. It’s important for me to know you believe me, that the condoms aren’t mine.”

Grabbing a skillet, he started to scramble her eggs and fry the bacon. “Like I said—”

“It’s none of your business. I get that,” she said. “Just say you believe me. That’s all I’m asking.”

Rather than answering her, he slid her food onto a plate, handed the plate to her, and proceeded to cook his own breakfast. And he did those things without revealing any emotion. There wasn’t any anger, jealousy, or curiosity.
Nothing.

Tired of getting nothing in return, she took her plate to the table, yanked the chair back, and slumped into her seat. While she picked at her food, he set a big glass of OJ in front of her and sat.

“You should eat more. You’re too skinny.”

“You like skinny girls.”

“I like healthy women,” he volleyed back with a flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he blinked and hid that too.

“I’m skinny
and
healthy.”

He stuck his fork in his eggs and grunted.

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

“It means I’m hungry,” he said and shoved food into his mouth followed by a large gulp of OJ.

Gritting her teeth at his dismissal of her, she ignored him for the rest of their meal.

Afterward, she grabbed their empty plates and practically tossed them into the dishwasher. “What now?”

Yes, she sounded downright bitchy, but at this point she didn’t care. Being next to him, unable to tell him how she felt because she wasn’t sure of his feelings for her was plain torture. It’d make any woman grow horns and breathe fire.

“The workshop gets its heat from the generator. I’ll be in there messing with the bike,” he said.

Ah, so he’d rather be with his dirt bike than stay in the house with her. Asa tried to hide her disappointment, but when she muttered a, “Oh, I see,” her hurt was evident.

“Asa—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something to do.” She started to yank the bottles of spices from their places in the rack. “Maybe, I’ll fill those condoms with water. Then later, we can have a water balloon fight or a snowball fight. Anything, as long as you’re the running target.”

“Imaginative, but vindictive, Asa girl.”

He unraveled her with the contradiction of his words. Call her vindictive then follow it with an endearment?

She blinked back the tears threatening to flow. “You’ve only said I was your Asa girl once, Rhys, and once had been enough for you. Remember?”

He shook his head and closed the gap between them to grip her shoulders as they stood in Jo’s kitchen.

“Once wasn’t enough, don’t you understand? One night with you could never be enough to get you out of my system, out of my damn mind.”

Suddenly, the house was too small.

“What do you want from me, Asa? Just tell me. I’m sick and tired of this back and forth crap between us—hot one moment and cold the next.”

She wrenched herself out of his grasp, controlled by feelings she had suppressed for too long. “I want your forgiveness for blaming you in my father’s death. That’s all I want. But if I ask—”

“Then we would be finished. I wouldn’t see you again, and we’d both move on,” he said, confirming what they both understood in their hearts. “Right?”

“Yes.”

“And will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Forget me? Forget I was your first?” he asked.

“Never.” Her ponytail swung as she shook her head.

He clenched his hands at his sides. “A year, Asa. Do you realize how much I’ve missed you?”

Suddenly, he stilled and time stopped as she soaked in his words, like they were rays of sunshine after days of endless rain.
He had missed her. Rhys Miles had missed her.

“Shit!” He turned and snatching his jacket off the coatrack by the door, he stormed out of the house for the second time today.

But unlike the first instance, she wasn’t willing to stay behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Tugging on her boots before she grabbed her own jacket off the arm of the couch, Asa hurried after him. She wouldn’t be like her father any longer, satisfied to keep his emotions in check and a smile on his face while her mother slept with other men.

Chapter Five

Asa flung open the workshop’s doors and marched inside. “You can’t leave every time your emotions surface, Rhys.”