“You meant it when you said you wanted to take a chance on us,” I whisper.
Ace tilts his head, the natural blond highlights in his light brown hair gleaming in the bright sunshine. He narrows his eyes at me ever so slightly before he replies. “I absolutely meant it. I don’t say things if I don’t intend to see it through. Around here, you’re a man of your word or you’re no man at all.”
His free hand cups my cheek, and he continues to gaze deep into my eyes. When he leans in, I’m ready for the kiss I know is coming. Only his kiss has ever affected me this much, in so many ways. His lips brush against mine, softly as first, and then the kiss becomes urgent, needy, demanding. His arm wraps around me and pulls me closer to him, and our bodies align, my breasts pressing against his chest.
He pulls back first but his lips continue to hover above mine. “You test my willpower in the best ways.”
“I’d love to know how you have such strong willpower. Apparently, I have none.”
“You can’t say that to me when my self-control is hanging by a thread. We’ll both end up in jail for lewd behavior.”
“Temporary insanity. Caused by an overload of hormones and pheromones.”
“Are you saying I bring out the animal in you?”
His voice is low and sensual as his fingers grip my hair. He lulls me into a place where I don’t care about anything else. All the wrongs and hurts fade to black when I’m with him like this, when I feel his sincerity, and it makes me crave even more. The effortless mutual feelings between Ace and me make it clear to me that I tried to force my relationship with Bobby.
“You definitely bring out the animal in me.”
“That’s good to know,” he smirks. “I’ll use that to my advantage later.”
Then he grabs my hand and continues walking toward Frankie. He chuckles lightly at my groan of frustration, and I’d swear that’s pride written all over his face. The way Tara, the waitress in town, spoke of him, it sounded as if he was the most desired man around. Surely he has his pick of women to date.
“So, tell me about Ace Sharp. What else do I not know about you?” I try to keep my tone light—not too inquisitive, not too interested. Not too desperate for information.
“There’s not much to know. I’m a thirty-year-old equine specialist and half owner of Oak Grove Equine Therapy with Justin. My younger sister, Lily, and I both went off to college, and we both returned to our hometown afterward because we love it here. My dad died when I was a teenager. Lily is six years younger than me, so she was still a kid when we lost him. My mom raised us alone; she never remarried after she lost my dad. I think she did a pretty good job, though. Neither one of us is a serial killer.”
No voluntary mention of River’s mom, which means I now have to ask.
“Were you and River’s mom married?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “She was in the same class as Lily, and they had been close friends at one point. This is such a small town that everyone knows each other, regardless of age, but I’d been around her when she hung out with Lily. Anyway, after she graduated from high school, we started seeing each other. She wound up pregnant.” He inhales a deep breath, releases it on a heavy sigh, and stops walking. “You’ll probably think badly of me for saying this, but I didn’t want to marry her. Even knowing she was carrying my baby, I still didn’t want to marry her.”
He tries to gauge my reaction, but I intentionally keep my expression neutral. I want him to keep going, to finish the story. What I don’t want is for him to feel any kind of judgment from me. Not shock, disgust, or pity.
“One thing my mom always stressed to Lily and me was to marry for love, for life. I loved her, but I knew Margot, River’s mom, wasn’t my forevermore. I tried to explain it to her the way my mother explained it to me, but apparently, I wasn’t as effective as dear old mom. Unfortunately, I learned how severe postpartum depression can be firsthand. Even though it still haunts me, it’ll be River who ultimately struggles with it when she’s old enough to understand what happened.”
I feel like such a selfish bitch. Here I’ve been so self-centered and consumed with my breakup with Bobby, and Ace has been blaming himself for the death of River’s mother. I’m glad I know what happened since it helps me understand him better, but I feel bad for turning the conversation to something so painful for him. Dealing with the aftermath of suicide is bad enough in itself, but feeling as though he had some hand in it must be killing him slowly.
“Ace, I know a little about postpartum depression. Granted, it’s just from my research of it and not from personal experience. But nothing you did or didn’t do would have contributed to her actions. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t blame yourself for what her body’s natural hormones caused. Even a huge wedding with all the trimmings wouldn’t have changed that.”