Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

“What are you doing?”

I popped up from where I’d been down on one knee, padded against the gravel by my jacket. I smiled at Rhodes, who had snuck so quietly out of his house that I hadn’t heard the door open or close. It was Thursday evening, and he’d not only gotten home early, but he’d changed out of his uniform and into thin sweatpants—Don’t look at his crotch, Ora—and another T-shirt that I’d seen before. Something about the Navy was washed out on it.

Rhodes really was the hottest forty-two-year-old on the planet. He had to be. At least, I thought so.

Something had changed between us since the day we’d spent on our UTV adventure. We’d even finally exchanged phone numbers once we’d gotten back. Whatever it was, was small and more than likely only noticeable to me, but it felt significant. We hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together since—he’d been working extra-long hours lately—but the two times I had seen him when he’d gotten home early enough and Amos was in the garage with me, he’d given me these long, watchful looks that were less rabid raccoon and more . . . something else.

Whatever it was had the little hairs on the nape of my neck coming to attention. I really didn’t think I was making something out of nothing either. It was an awareness, like when you’re washing your hair and you’ve held your breath for too long and suddenly there it is, that breath you needed that tells you that you aren’t drowning.

But I was trying not to think about it too much. He liked me well enough to be around me and not have a terrible time, I knew now. In his own way. He worried about my safety, I was pretty sure. Rhodes had called me his friend that day his father had been over.

And I had a bone-deep feeling that this decent, quiet man didn’t use the word “friend” very often or lightly. And he didn’t freely give away his time either. He had with me though.

So it was with that knowledge, with that something in my heart toward him that was definitely affection for someone so private, that I held up the thin fabric in my hand. “Trying to do a dummy run with my new tent,” I told him, “and failing.”

Coming to a stop on the other side of where all my supplies were laid out, Rhodes leaned over and inspected the equipment. Blues and blacks overlapped each other in a mess.

“It’s not labeled right . . . I spilled water on the booklet, and I haven’t figured out what goes into what and where,” I explained. “I haven’t felt this dumb since I started working at the shop.”

“You’re not dumb for not knowing things,” he said before crouching. “Do you have the box or a picture of it?”

He said the nicest things sometimes.

I went around the side of the house where I’d left the box by the trash cans that Amos dragged out once a week and brought it back, setting it beside him.

Rhodes glanced up and caught my eyes briefly as he took it. A notch appeared between his eyebrows at the image on the cardboard box, his lips twisting to one side before he nodded. “Do you have a Sharpie?”

“Yeah.”

Those gray eyes flicked up to mine again. “Get it. We can mark off each piece so you know what meets up with what.”

I wasn’t taking this opportunity for granted. Back upstairs, I grabbed a silver Sharpie from my purse and took it to him. Rhodes had already started piling the poles of the tent together, his face thoughtful.

I crouched down next to him and handed the permanent marker over.

His callused fingertips brushed mine as he took it, plucking off the top with his opposite hand and making a thoughtful sound in his throat as he held up a piece. “This is clearly one of the pieces that goes over the top, see?”

I didn’t.

“This one looks just like that one,” he explained patiently, picking up another pole and setting it with the first.

All right, I could see that. “Oh, yeah.”

After a moment, he lifted up the box to look again, scratching the top of his head, then swapping things around. Then he did it again and hummed in his throat.

I took in the blurred pieces on the instructions that I’d accidentally given a bath to. I squinted. I guess it sort of looked right.

Eventually, he started connecting pieces together, and when he stood back—half of them used—he nodded to himself. “Where are you going camping?”

I stood up straight. “Gunnison.”

He scratched at his head, still focusing on the pieces of the tent he’d constructed. “Alone?”

“No.” I moved the booklet around a little bit to see if that made more sense. It didn’t. “Clara invited me to go with her to Gunnison this weekend. It’s going to be me, her, Jackie, and one of her sisters-in-law. Her brother is staying with Mr. Nez. She offered to let me borrow one of her tents, but I wanted to be a big girl and buy my own so I have it for the future, in case I go camping again. I know I used to like going, but that was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, that piece goes there,” he said after I’d connected one of the poles I’d picked up. “A long time ago? When you lived here?”

“Yeah, my mom and I used to go,” I answered, watching him hook up another pole. “I’m pretty excited, actually. I remember we used to have a lot of fun. Making s’mores—”

“There’s a fire ban.”

“I know. We’re using her stove.” I squinted at some of the poles and flipped it around. “Maybe I’ll hate sleeping on the ground, but I won’t know unless I try.”

Without looking at me, he took that same pole and moved it where it actually looked right.

“You’re good,” I told him after he’d done a couple more and it really started to look like it should. “You don’t do a whole lot of camping then? Since Amos isn’t about it?”

Rhodes was taking the Sharpie out of his pocket as he answered, “Not often. When I’ve gone hunting or for training, but that’s about it.” He paused, and I thought that was the end of it as he put the marker between his teeth and finished connecting the last few pieces, but he surprised me when he kept talking. “My older brother used to take us all the time. That’s the most fun I remember having back then.”

His brief story perked me up as he started moving along the rods, marking them with the silver color. “Do you have more than one brother?”

“Three. Two older, one younger. It got us out of the house and out of trouble,” he said in a strange tone that told me there was more to it than that.

“Where do they all live?”

“Colorado Springs, Juneau, and Boulder,” he answered.

Yet none of them, including his dad, ever came over. Colorado Springs and Boulder weren’t exactly down the street, but they weren’t that far either. The one in Alaska was the only exception, at least I thought.

Like he could read my mind, he kept talking. “They don’t come down here much. No reason to. We meet up a couple times a year, or they used to come visit when I was in Florida. Everybody liked visiting when I was there, mostly for the theme parks.”

No reason to? Even though his not-exactly-dad-of-the-year father was only an hour away? And where was his mom? “Why didn’t you take Amos and move up closer to where one of them lives?”

He kept on marking away. “Amos grew up here. Living on base wasn’t for me when I had to, and I don’t miss living in big cities. And when I applied to become a game warden, they opened the office in Durango. I don’t believe in fate, but it seemed like it to me.”

To me too. “Is your mom in the picture?” I asked before I could stop myself.

The Sharpie stopped moving, and I knew I didn’t imagine the gruffness in his voice when he said, “No. Last I heard she passed away a few years ago.”

Last he heard. That wasn’t loaded. “I’m really sorry.”

Even though Rhodes was looking down, he still shook his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I don’t lose sleep over her.”

If that wasn’t some deep fury, I didn’t know what was.

And he must have surprised himself because he glanced up and frowned. “We didn’t have a good relationship.”

“I’m sorry, Rhodes. I’m sorry for asking.”

That handsome face went rigid. “Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Rhodes’s attention moved back to the tent a little too quickly, and he seemed to take another steeling breath before saying, “Let’s take it apart and do it again with the canopy, just to make sure all the numbers match up and you’ve got it.”

Someone was done talking about his parents. I already knew better than to ask people such personal questions, but I could never seem to stop myself. “Thank you,” I blurted out. “For helping me.”

“Sure” was all he replied with. His tone said it all though.

Two days later, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking my foot and trying my best not to feel disappointed.

But mostly failing at that.

I had been really, really looking forward to going camping.

But I knew that shit happens, and that’s exactly what had been the case. Clara had gotten a call while we’d still been at the store, just about getting ready to shut down. Her nephew had broken his arm, and he and her brother were on their way to the hospital.

I could tell Clara had been disappointed as hell in the first place from the way her shoulders had dropped and the way she’d sighed.

And on such short notice, she wouldn’t find anyone else to stay. Her dad’s daytime caretaker had plans. Her other brothers . . . I wasn’t sure, but I’d bet if they could have done it, she would have asked.

Then again, knowing Clara, she would rather not.

So, we made plans to make camping happen some other time. I’d offered to stay with her dad the next day if she wanted to get out of the house, but one thing led to another, and Jackie offered to stay home. We’d agreed to go on a hike tomorrow instead, even though I knew she wasn’t much of a hiker. She swore up and down she could handle it, and I wasn’t going to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. If we had to turn around, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

And that was why I found myself on a Saturday night at home, feeling just a little disappointed.

I could go camping by myself some other day . . .

No, I couldn’t.

A knock on the door, though, had me sitting up.

“Aurora?” Through the window, a voice called out from downstairs.

I knew who it was and got up. “Rhodes?” I replied before taking the steps as fast as I could in my socked feet.

“It’s me,” he said just as I reached the bottom, flipping the lock and pulling the door wide.

I gave him the friendliest smile I could muster. “Hey.”

I knew he’d just gotten home not too long ago; I’d heard his truck. He’d already changed out of his uniform, settling for dark jeans and a formfitting T-shirt that I would have eyeballed him in if I could have done it sneakily. “Getting a little late to be leaving, isn’t it?” he asked.

It took me a second to blink at what he was asking. “Oh, we’re not going after all.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“No, not this weekend. Clara’s brother had an emergency, and he couldn’t come down to stay with their dad, and his usual caretaker had a funeral,” I explained, watching him watching me. His eyes moved over my face as I talked, like he was measuring my words.

His smooth right cheek flexed.

“Another time, I guess,” I told him. “What are you two doing this weekend?”

His “Nothing” took a moment to come out of his mouth. “Johnny picked up Am, and they’re doing something tonight.” His cheek twitched again. “I saw your light on and wanted to make sure you were all right since you said you were leaving right after work.”

“Oh. Yeah. No, I’m here, and I’m good. Clara and I are going to try and do that hike you saved me on, when half my skin ate gravel.”

He nodded as he narrowed his eyes a little.

I thought about it. “I was thinking about making a pizza right now. Do you want half?”

“Half?” he asked slowly.

“I can make you your own if you want . . .” I trailed off. “I’m hungry actually. I can eat a whole one, but I have two.”

For some reason, that made the corners of his mouth tighten.

“What?”

“Nothing. I wouldn’t be able to picture you eating a whole pizza if I hadn’t seen you nearly do it on Am’s birthday.”

I almost winced at the memory of the shit show that day had been. I’d never asked what happened with the mouse, and I wasn’t going to ask now. I shrugged and smiled. “I had a big salad for lunch. It balances out, I think.”

“Make two pizzas. I’ll get you another one next time I go to the store,” he said after a moment of looking at my face again.

Did he have to be so handsome?

“Yeah?” I asked, sounding way too excited.

He nodded soberly, but there was still something in his eyes that seemed very, very thoughtful. “What do you think? Thirty minutes?”

“Maybe? By the time I heat up the oven and both pizzas cook, closer to forty?”

Rhodes took a step back. “I’ll be back then.”

“Okay,” I said as he took another step. I waited to close the door until he’d turned and jogged back to his house.

Why he jogged back, I had no idea, but okay. Maybe he had to take a poop. Or he hadn’t exercised. Amos had confirmed one day that his dad got up early to go to the twenty-four-hour gym in town a few days a week. Sometimes he did push-ups at home. He’d volunteered the information randomly, but I hadn’t complained.

Back upstairs, I preheated the oven and wondered if he was planning on eating with me or taking the pizza back to his house.

I wondered for a second if he’d planned on going on a date tonight and that’s why he asked if I was sticking around, but no.

Unless he was planning on sharing his pizza . . .

No, that didn’t seem like him either.

Well, whatever, if he wanted to eat with me, awesome. If he didn’t, I could watch a movie. I had a new book. I could call Yuki to check on her. Or my aunt.

But forty-five minutes later, Rhodes still hadn’t come back and the pizzas were overcooking in the cooling oven.

I guess I could just cut it up, put it on a plate, and take it over?

I had just started cutting up one of them with a steak knife, because I didn’t have a pizza cutter, when another knock came from the door, and before I could answer, it creaked open and I heard, “Angel?”

Lord, I didn’t understand this man and how he sometimes screwed up my name.

“Yes?”

“Pizzas done?”

“Yeah! Want me to bring yours down?” I yelled.

“Bring them both.”

He wanted to eat together? “Okay!” I hollered back.

The door closed, and I finished slicing up both supreme masterpieces, stacking them onto plates, and wrapping them with some of the beeswax covers that Yuki had sent randomly to my PO box. Then I went down.

I managed about two steps outside before I stopped.

There was a sleek tent pitched in the area between the garage apartment and the main house.

Beside it were two camping chairs with a lantern between them. Rhodes was sitting in one of them. There was a small bundle on the other.

“It’s not Gunnison, but we can’t have a fire here either because the ban is statewide,” he said, sitting up.

Something beneath my breastbone stirred.

“I looked for your tent in the garage and in your car, but it wasn’t there. If you want to bring it down, we can set it up in a minute. But mine is a two-person.” He stopped suddenly, talking that was, and leaned forward, squinting at me in the dark. “Are you crying?”

I tried to clear my throat and went with the truth. “I’m about to.”

“Why?” he asked softly in surprise.

That thing moved around some more, sliding awfully close to my heart, and I tried to will it to stop moving.

It didn’t listen.

He’d pitched a tent.

Set up chairs.

So that I could go camping.

I squeezed my lips together, telling myself, Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Ora.

I better not cry. I better not cry.

I even cleared my damn throat.

And it didn’t matter.

I started to cry. Just these tiny, pitiful streams that came out of me silently once the choke was out. I didn’t make a sound, but the tears kept coming out of my eyeballs. Seasonal little streams of salt at an act of kindness I would have never in a million years expected.

Rhodes stood up, alarmed, and I tried to say, “I’m fine,” but it didn’t exactly come out.

It didn’t come out at all. Because I was trying so hard not to cry harder.

“Buddy?” Rhodes said cautiously, concern all over his tone.

I pinched my lips together.

He took another step forward and then another, and then I did the same.

I went straight toward him, still pressing my lips together, still clinging to my small amount of pride.

And when he stopped about a foot or two away, I set the plates on the ground and kept going. Straight into him. My cheek going into the space between his shoulder and collarbone, tucking myself in right there, and wrapping both arms around his waist like I had a right to. Like he would want me to.

Like he liked me and this was fine.

But he didn’t push my arms away once they were there. Once I was basically totally pressed against him, not crying-crying but tearing up into his shirt. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I whispered into his chest with a sniff.

What had to be his hand landed right smack in the center of my back.

“I’m sorry,” I pretty much whispered before attempting to keep myself together and trying to take a step back, but I couldn’t. Because the hand covering my bra strap didn’t let me. “I don’t mean to get all mopey or cry all over you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Another hand landed low on my back, right above the band of my jeans.

And I stopped trying to move away.

“You’re not making me uncomfortable. I don’t mind,” he said, his voice as gentle as I’d ever heard it.

He was hugging me back.

He was hugging me back.

And son of a bitch, I wanted it. So I hugged this man more, my arms going low on his waist. He was warm, and his body was solid.

And my God, he smelled like the good laundry detergent.

I could wrap him around myself and live there forever. Cologne be damned. There was nothing better than good detergent.

Especially when it was molded to a body like Rhodes’s. Big and firm. All comforting.

A man who I had thought up until not too long ago couldn’t stand me.

And now . . . well, now I was second-guessing everything.

Why would he do this? Because of Amos’s appendicitis? Because I’d saved him when his dad had come over? Or possibly because of our UTV adventure?

“You okay?” he asked as his hand hesitated on the middle of my spine before giving it another pat.

He was patting my back, like he was trying to burp me.

Affection surged through my bloodstream. Rhodes was attempting to comfort me, and I didn’t think I’d ever been so confused, not even when Kaden had told me he loved me but said we couldn’t let anyone find out about it.

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re being so nice. I really thought you didn’t like me for the longest.”

Rhodes pulled back just enough for him to tip his chin down. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes bounced from one of mine to the other, and he must have realized I was serious because his features slowly softened. His grave face took over, and so did his Navy Voice. “It had nothing to do with you before, are we clear? You reminded me of someone, and I thought you were like her. It took me too long to figure out that you’re not. I’m sorry I did that.”

“Oh,” I told him with another sniff and then a nod. “I get it.”

He kept on looking straight into my eyes before dipping his chin a little. “Do you want to go back in?”

“No! I’m sorry I got emotional. Thank you so much. This means the world to me.”

He nodded, his hands briefly moving over my spine before he took a step away. Then he seemed to think twice about it because he was back and dabbing at my face with the sleeve of the sweater I hadn’t realized he’d thrown on at some point.

And before I could think twice about it, I dove forward and hugged him tight again, so tight he went “oof” for a second before I let him go just as quickly, sniffled, and gave him a big, watery smile. Picking the plates of pizza back off the ground where I’d set them, I held one out to him. “Well, let’s eat, if you’re hungry,” I nearly croaked.

He was watching me way too closely, the lines across his forehead prominent. “You’re still crying.”

“I know, and it’s your fault,” I said, clearing my throat and trying to keep it together. “This really is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Rhodes.”

His eyes flicked up toward the night sky as he said in that hoarse voice, “You’re welcome.”

We each took a seat, quietly, taking the wrapper off, going straight into eating our pizzas, the light of the lantern illuminating us both enough so we could see each other pretty clearly.

We finished up our pizzas in silence, and he reached over to take the plate from me, setting it down and then saying, “I found a pack of Chips Ahoy and some marshmallows I don’t remember buying, but they aren’t expired.”

My bottom lip started quivering, and in that moment, I hated that I thought of Kaden, and I hated even more that I hated him for not understanding me a fraction of as much as I thought he understood me.

He hadn’t. I saw that now. Saw it in a complete picture. Years ago, I would have killed for something like this. Not for the things he bought that took him three minutes to find online and even faster to order because he had his account information saved on his phone. I could remember the times I’d brought up just visiting Pagosa and how he’d change the subject, not listening. Not caring. Everything had always been about what he wanted. All that time I’d wasted . . .

“You good with the cookies and marshmallows?” Rhodes asked, oblivious.

My “yes” was the smallest yes in the world. But it got the point across because Rhodes shot me a long look before getting up and ducking into the tent, bringing out a plastic grocery bag. He pulled out what looked like a half-full container of chocolate chip cookies, a nearly demolished bag of marshmallows, a couple of the kind of things used for kebabs, an oven mitt, and a full-sized lighter.

I went over and we split the things up; he handed me the pokers and a marshmallow at a time and I loaded them. I put the mitt on, shooting him a smile as I did, and then held out the marshmallow sticks toward him, where he lit the flame and I slowly turned the marshmallows once before flipping them upside down and letting the flame swallow the rest of them. We did it twice for four total.

“Have you ever done this before?” I asked as I blew out the flame on the last set.

His face was even more handsome under the moonlight and the lantern; his bone structure was absolutely something else. “No, but I hoped it’d make sense—careful, don’t burn yourself.”

What a dad.

I loved it.

I was careful as we slowly dragged the marshmallows across their sticks and onto a cookie each, using the rods to smash them down as they cracked open with gooey goodness. He took two, and I kept the other two, unable to stop smiling and not caring.

“Okay?”

I wasn’t sure what he was referring to specifically, so I took it in general. “More than okay, this is awesome,” I admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “The pizza, outside, the moon, the cookies.”

“Am’s got a couple movies downloaded on his tablet. I got it just in case you wanted to watch it in there,” he said, gesturing to the tent.

He was serious. What else was in the tent?

“Should I grab my sleeping bag since the ground is hard?”

“There’s a couple in there. They’re clean. We washed them after our last failed trip.”

“What happened?”

“Am got stung three times by a yellow jacket on the second day. He wasn’t very happy.”

I grimaced. “Did you leave?”

He snickered. “Second and last time we ever went.”

“That sucks. Hopefully there’s other things you both enjoy doing together.”

Those broad shoulders moved in agreement. “I’m here for Amos, not to do things without him.”

That made me smile. He really was such a good dad. A good man.

“We don’t have to watch anything if you don’t want to,” he said when I guess I took too long to say anything else.

I didn’t even hesitate a little bit. “I’m game if you are.”

“I brought it out here, angel,” he replied.

He totally had. “Yes, I want to. Give me five minutes to grab a drink—”

“I’ve got a couple bottles of water and a soda in the tent, the kind you like,” he cut me off.

I didn’t want to think that everyone had an ulterior motive. I didn’t feel that way at all. But . . . he had my favorite soda? What kind of witchcraft was going on here?

I pinched myself as subtly as possible, and when I figured I should have woken up because this was a dream and didn’t, I realized this was real.

And I was going to take advantage of this handsome man being so nice to me for whatever reason he had.

“I want to change my pants and grab a sweater. These jeans weren’t meant to be worn all day.”

He gave me that serious nod.

I took a step back then stopped again. I wanted to make sure . . . “Did you . . . want to camp out all night?”

“Only if you want to.”

I hesitated, eyeing the two-person tent. The proximity. The intimacy.

A tent propped between his house and mine—technically his, but whatever—and this tiny thrill filled my whole chest cavity.

He was just being nice, I told myself. Don’t fly too high, little heart, I pleaded, surprised suddenly by the words that had come out of nowhere.

But just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone. A figment of my imagination.

“We can play it by ear. You change your mind, you walk the fifteen steps home,” he amended after a moment.

That wasn’t what I was thinking at all, but I nodded, not willing to say what I was hesitating over. I couldn’t forget I was, hopefully, going hiking with Clara tomorrow and I’d need to wake up early, but being tired would be worth it for this. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

And I was right back. I changed into some loose flannel pajama pants that someone had bought me, peed, and headed back out. I made it to the opening of the tent and started to unzip it, finding Rhodes sprawled on top of a sleeping bag, all long and physically perfect, and on top of the kind of foam pad we sold at the store all the time. He had the tablet propped against his knees, head pillowed by his real pillow and his forearm that he had tucked back there.

I didn’t need to witness it to know he watched me as I undid the rest of the zipper and ducked inside, closing it back after me.

I wasn’t sure what I’d imagined when I’d pictured a two-person tent, but it hadn’t been this cozy.

I liked it.

And I sure wasn’t going to complain.

“I’m back,” I said, Captain Obvious.

He gestured toward the sleeping bag on top of another pad directly beside him. “I saved you a spot from the raccoon that tried to get in a minute ago.”

I froze. “Are you serious?”

He was messing with me.

I started to unzip the tent again as he chuckled and dipped a finger into the band of my pants and tugged me back, surprising me yet again with this change in him. His voice was warm. “Come on.”

“All right,” I muttered, crawling across the floor and lying right beside him. There was a pillow on my side too, and it was a house one, not an inflatable one. This was so, so nice.

The nicest.

I didn’t understand it.

“We’ve got three choices: the 1990s Twilight Zone, Firein the Sky, or a documentary about Bigfoot hunters now that I see it. What do you think?”

I didn’t even need to think about it. “If I watch the Bigfoot movie, I’ll never go camping again. We’re out in the open, and unless you want me crying myself to sleep, Fire in the Sky is out—”

His laugh surprised me, all deep and hoarse and perfect.

“Let’s do The Twilight Zone.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“We can watch Fire in the Sky if you’re fine with me peeing myself and having to smell it later.”

He only said one word, but there was definitely amusement in it. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He rolled his head to the side to eye me.

But something in me eased as I scooted over, so close his upper arm brushed my boobs. I was totally on my side, with a hand between my head and the pillow propping it up enough to get a good look at the screen.

He didn’t start the movie right away though, and when I glanced at him, I could tell his gaze was trained on a spot along the tent wall.

I didn’t want to ask what he was looking at.

And I didn’t have to because his gray eyes flicked to me, and the smile that had just been lingering there a moment ago was gone, and he said, voice steady, “You reminded me of my mom.”

The mom he didn’t like? I winced. “I’m sorry.”

Rhodes shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. You don’t look alike or act alike, angel. She was just . . . She was beautiful like you are. You-can’t-look-away gorgeous, my uncle used to say,” he explained softly, like he was still trying to process whatever it was he was thinking exactly.

“Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure she was bipolar. People, including my father, let her get away with a lot because she looked the way she did. And it was a shitty instinct that made me think you could be like that too.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m sorry.”

Something really heavy churned in my chest, and I nodded at him. “It’s okay. I understand. You weren’t that mean.”

His eyebrows went up a little. “That mean?”

“That’s not what I meant. You weren’t mean. I just . . . thought you didn’t like me. But I promise, I’m not that bad of a person. And I don’t like hurting most people’s feelings. I still think about the time when I was in third grade and hid my Halloween candy instead of sharing it with Clara when she came over to my house.”

The softest little snort went through his nose.

“Mental illness is hard. With a parent especially, I think. My mom battled depression when I was growing up, and it was hard for me too. It still is, I guess. She was really good at hiding it, but when it got to be too much, she would pretty much be catatonic. I thought I could fix it, but that’s not the way it works, you know? Stuff like that sticks with you. I wondered . . . what had happened. With her, I mean. Your mom.”

The way he shook his head, like he was reliving some of the things he’d gone through with her, hurt my heart. I couldn’t imagine what she had done to make a man like Rhodes look the way he did right then. Maybe this was why his relationship with his dad was so strained. I didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to rehash more hurt when he was being so kind. So I settled for touching his arm. “But thank you for apologizing.”

His gaze went straight to the place where my fingers were. That thick, muscular throat worked, and slowly, oh so slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine and just watched me.

I didn’t know what to say for once, so I didn’t say anything at all. What I wanted to do was hug him, to tell him that there were some things you could never truly get over. What I actually did was pull my hand back and wait. And what was only a deep breath and a few moments later, he started talking again, his voice only sounding a little bit different, huskier, if anything. “Thanks for what you did with my dad. For what you said.”

He had heard me. I waved him off. “Not even a big deal, and it was only the truth.”

“It is a big deal,” he argued gently. “He called to ask when he could visit again. I know what he’s like . . . Thank you.”

“I’m glad he took it to heart, and seriously, it’s nothing. You should meet my ex’s mom. I’ve got a lot of experience.”

That gray gaze swept down to my mouth, and his voice was low. “And thanks for how much you do for Am.”

“Meh. I love that kid. But not in a weird way. He’s just a good, sweet kid, and I’m a lonely old lady that he doesn’t totally hate. Honestly, I think he just misses his mom, and I guess I’m old enough to be kind of a weird mom figure, so he puts up with me.”

“That’s not it,” he claimed, a hint of a smile flashing around the corners of his mouth.

A question bubbled up into my brain. Maybe because he seemed to be in a good mood and I wasn’t sure when the next chance I’d get to ask this would be. Or possibly just because I was nosey and figured I had nothing left to lose except possibly getting a stare in return. So I did it. “Can I ask you something personal?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding.

All right then. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to, but . . . were you planning on never getting married?”

The face he made said he hadn’t been expecting that question.

I tried to rush on. “Because you had Amos so . . . unconventionally. So young. You were what? Twenty-six when your friend and his wife asked you to be a donor? Or did you just want to be a dad then?”

Realization dawned on him, and he didn’t have to think about it. “We were twenty, I think, when Billy got into a bad mountain biking accident. He had trauma to his . . .”

“Testicles?” I offered.

He nodded. “Billy’s wife is older than us by eight or nine years—yeah, that face was the same one everyone made back then. It took Johnny a while to get over his friend and his big sister getting together. But, that’s why they were insistent on having a baby then, if they could. I stayed over at his house a lot growing up . . . because I didn’t want to be home,” he explained matter-of-factly. “To answer your question, I didn’t see myself ever getting married. There’s a lot of things I can commit to, but most people will disappoint you.”

I heard that. But I knew not everyone was like that.

Rhodes’s eyes swept over my face as he kept talking. “Besides one girlfriend in high school who dumped me after two years, and a few women I dated but not seriously, I haven’t been in a long-term relationship. I had to choose between focusing on my career or trying to get to know someone, and I chose my career instead. At least until Amos came along, and he became the only thing more important than that.”

More important than his career. It took everything in me not to sniff.

“I always liked kids. I thought I’d be a good dad someday, and when they asked, I thought that might be my one shot at having a real family in case I never met anyone. My only chance at knowing I could be a better parent than mine were. That I could be what I wished they had been.” Rhodes shrugged, but it was a heavy one that pulled at my heart.

So I said the only thing that I could think of. “I understand.” Because I did.

Since my mom, all I had ever wanted was stability. To be loved. To love. I needed an outlet. And unlike him, at least in one way, I’d looked in the wrong place. Held on for the wrong reasons.

There were some things in life that you had to prove to yourself. I had come here for that exact reason. I got it.

Rhodes shifted in front of me and asked, out of nowhere, “Did your ex cheat on you?”

It didn’t feel like a punch to the face this time. This question. When I’d spent a week with an old roadie of Kaden’s when I’d gone through Utah, he had asked me the same thing . . . and it had felt exactly like it. Mostly, I think, because some part of me wished it had been that simple. That easy to explain. Kaden had had women throwing themselves at him forever, and that would have surprised no one.

Luckily, I’d been born with what my uncle called more self-esteem than a group of people combined, but my aunt said that I’d just been so confident in how he felt about me. That I knew better. That Kaden knew better than to cheat on me because he had loved me—in his own easy way. I had never been jealous even when I’d had to stand at the sidelines and people touched his butt and his arm and put spectacular boobs in his face.

I wished, at more than one point, that he had cheated on me. Because I could’ve excused the end of our relationship more easily. People understood adultery and its impact on most relationships.

But that wasn’t what happened.

“No, he didn’t. We took a break once, and I know he kissed someone, but that was it.”

More like his mom had come up with a stupid-ass idea that he’d tried to sell me on. Mom thinks it would be a good idea to be seen with someone else. Out. There’s been posts about me, you know . . . being into guys. She thinks I should go out with someone—just as friends! I would never do that to you. For publicity, beautiful. That’s all.

That’s all.

Instead, that had been the first piece of my heart he’d broken. One thing led to another, me asking if he would be fine if I pretended to go out with someone, him getting red-faced and saying it was different. Blah, blah, blah, I didn’t care anymore. And it had ended with me saying he could do whatever the hell he wanted, but I wasn’t going to stick around. He kept insisting it wasn’t going to be like that, but at the end of the day . . .

He did exactly what he wanted. He went on that date, thinking I was bluffing. So I left.

I spent three weeks with Yuki before he came around and begged and pleaded for me to come back. That he would never do something like that again. That he was so sorry.

That he had kissed Tammy Lynn Singer and he felt terrible.

I didn’t imagine that Rhodes’s voice got deeper as he asked, “Then why did you get divorced?”

The urge not to lie to him was so strong in my heart, I had to think about how to word this without giving more than I was ready to. “It’s pretty complicated . . .”

“Most breakups are.”

I smiled at him. He was so close, I had the best view of those full lips. “There were a lot of reasons. One of the biggest was that I wanted to have kids, and he kept putting it off and off, and I finally figured out that he was going to keep making excuses forever. It was important to me, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t made that clear to him from the beginning of our relationship. I probably should have known he was never going to fully commit to our future when he kept insisting on condoms even after being together for fourteen years, right? Too much information, I’m sorry. And there was his career. I’m not really the clingy type or need a lot of attention, but his job was number one through ten on the list of priorities in his life, and I was . . . going to be number eleven forever when I would’ve been happy being three or four. I’d prefer number two, but I could settle.”

The lines across his forehead made another appearance.

“And it was just a bunch of other stuff that compounded over the years. His mom is the Antichrist, and he was a momma’s boy. She hated me with a passion unless I could do something for her or him. We just ended up growing into totally different people who wanted totally different things . . . and now that I think about it, I guess it really isn’t that complicated. I guess I just wanted someone to be my best friend, someone good and honest who doesn’t make me second-guess being important. And he would never give up his job or even try and compromise.” I felt like it was always me that had to give and give and give, while he took and took and took.

I made a farting sound with my lips and shrugged at Rhodes. “I guess I am a little clingy.”

His gray eyes roamed my face, and after a moment, he raised his eyebrows and dropped them back down with a shake of his head.

“What?” I asked.

He snickered. “He sounds like a fucking moron.”

I smiled faintly. “I like to think so, but I’m sure there are some people who would think he was too good for me.”

“Doubt it.”

That got me to full-on smile at him. “I used to want him to regret the end of our relationship for the rest of his life, but you know what? I just don’t care anymore, and that makes me pretty damn happy.”

It was him who touched my arm that time. His thumb a two-hundred-degree point on my wrist. The gray pools of his eyes this close were deep and hypnotizing. Rhodes was so handsome in that moment—so much more than usual—all partially scowling and so focused on me, it was easy to forget we weren’t in the middle of the woods, just the two of us alone. “He was an idiot. Only somebody that’s never talked to you or seen you would think you were the lucky one.” Rhodes’s gaze flicked to my mouth, and he let out a soft sigh through his nose, his words a hoarse whisper. “Nobody in their right mind would let you walk away from them. Not once and no way in hell twice, angel.”

My heart.

My limbs went numb.

We looked at one another for so long, the only thing I could hear was our steady breaths. But eventually, with this loaded moment strung so tightly between us, he looked away first. Mouth parted, eyes going to the top of the tent before he picked up the tablet and tapped the screen all while clearing his throat. “Ready to watch the movie?”

No, no, I wasn’t, but somehow I managed to say, “Yes.”

And that was what we did.