Instinctively, I reach over and squeeze his hand in an act of reassurance and comfort. “I know, Ace. You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad I was there at that exact moment.”
He holds my eyes captive as his fingers wrap around my hand in return. The warmth from his skin is instantly transferred to mine and quickly spreads throughout my body. When it reaches my cold, broken heart, I have a moment of sheer panic and terror. I don’t want it to thaw for any man, for any reason. But there’s something about this man that makes my emotions swing from one end of the spectrum to the other.
This man could be dangerous to my heart, mind, and body—in every way imaginable.
“Let me help you clean up the dishes,” I stammer nervously.
Using that as my excuse, I pull my hand from his grip to start clearing off the table. For a moment, I can still feel his touch. The heat from his body. The texture of his calloused fingers. His inherent strength that’s undeniable and unmistakable. Then it all begins to fade away, and I’m reminded there’s more than just the physical connection two people share.
I don’t think about how lonely I am, how I’m dying a little more inside, and how much I crave an emotional connection. I don’t think about how that will never be a reality for me.
As I rinse our dinner dishes off in the sink and place them in the dishwasher, I bite my tongue to keep from asking the questions I really want to know.
Where is River’s mother?
Was Ace married to her?
Did he walk in and catch her with his best friend, too?
“Laynie,” River calls from directly behind me.
When I turn, the first thing I notice is her sweet smile. The second thing I notice is the plastic bowl she’s holding out to me. And lastly, I notice that bowl has a huge scoop of homemade ice cream in it. The sliding glass door is still open, and I’m embarrassed to admit I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even hear them go outside.
“Here’s your ice cream. Daddy made it. It’s peach.” Her eyes grow big on her last word, telling me it’s a big deal to have peach ice cream. “This is yours.”
She hands me the bowl with a heaping mound of peach ice cream and a plastic spoon buried inside it. “If I eat over here too often, I’ll be as big as a house.”
River giggles sweetly and takes my free hand in hers. “Come outside with me.”
When we step onto the back porch, Ace is adjusting the container of homemade ice cream in the rock salt and ice. “You really didn’t have to do the dishes, Layne. Squirt and I have a system for getting them done.”
“It’s the least I could do after you did all the cooking. And did you really just call her Squirt?” I can’t help but razz him.
“What? I always call her Squirt.” He smiles, an innocent smile that a cherished little boy would flash for his mom when he just got caught pilfering an extra cookie from the cookie jar.
That smile will be my undoing.
Chapter Six
ACE
With my forearms on the back porch railing, I watch River and Layne together in my backyard. River drags her from one spot to the next—first to the swings and then to the slide. Then she has to show Layne the small koi pond and then the fire pit. Layne’s being a good sport by giving River the attention she craves and listening to every word she says like she’s the most important person in the world. Watching them together makes me feel like shit, because I realize how much River has missed having a real mother figure in her life.
Rose is great and she takes good care of her, but River is old enough to understand that, while Rose loves her dearly, she’s a babysitter and not a mother to her. Part of me feels bad for not having someone special in my life that River can bond with, but the other part of me screams “hell no” every time I even consider it. That part is the one that always wins, because River is the one who’ll suffer the most if it doesn’t work out.
She’s my one true love. She’s the one I’d defend with my life. Any sacrifice I have to make for her is more than worth it in the long run.
River walks to the storage shed and gets out two fishing poles. Granted, they’re both kid-size poles, but I can’t help but smile at my little tomboy. River and Layne work at attaching their hooks and putting the bait on before they cast their lines into the flowing water. Their hooks will undoubtedly get caught under the rocks from the spot they chose, and I laugh to myself as I start walking across the yard toward them.
In five, four, three, two…
“Daddy!” River yells as she stands and yanks on her line. “I got one, Daddy! I got one!”
“Yep, Squirt. You got one, all right. You got a big rock.”
“Not again,” she grumbles and her shoulders slump.
She hands me her pole and I walk up and down the bank, yanking on the line to try to free it without wading out in the water. As I make another pass by them, I overhear part of their conversation.