Page 172 of For Better or Hearse
“Ash? Beauty?”
She opens her eyes. Back to earth.
Back tothem.
When she says nothing, Nathaniel threads his fingers through hers. Lifts the back of her hand to his lips. “You are more than your mess. You’re the love of my fucking life.” His blue eyes, full of hurt, are locked on hers, intent. “I wish you’d see that. I wish you would trust me.”
“I do trust you,” she promises. “More than anyone.”
Relief flashes on his face.
Eyes misty, stomach a ball of pure anxiety, Ash stands and climbs onto his lap. Fiercely, she wraps her arms around his neck, kisses the top of his hair. Inhales his scent. His love. The tight hold of his arms wrapped around her waist. The nerve of this perfect, stern man, sitting her down and talking it out.
“And you’re right. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m scared. I’m stupid.”
His voice is thick and scratchy. “You are.”
“I love you. I don’t mean to push you away.” She looks into his eyes. “I won’t. At least, I will try,” she amends. “So damn hard.”
He squeezes her tight. “I can live with that.”
She burrows her face against his neck. Whispers, “Did I ruin things?”
“No.” A light chuckle shakes them both. “Never.”
“Are you sure?”
“More than.” He pulls back to look her in the eye, his expression serious. “The sun will rise, and I will still love you tomorrow. Understand?”
She sighs and clings to him. “Yes.”
He kisses her shoulder. “We will be fine, Ashabelle.” He glances at his bags set by the front door. An unhappy noise escapes his lips. “I have to go.”
A deep ache spreads within her chest. “I know.” Ash blinks rapidly, tears lining her eyes. She squeezes him once more. “Please be careful. Come back to me.”
When she drives him to the airport sometime later, she waits until the helicopter takes flight, carrying Nathaniel off to theSophia Marie.
She can still feel him.
Because he’s in the air. He’s everywhere.
He can’t do this anymore. Be away from Ash. It’s been two weeks since he left LA, and every day, he feels like he’s slipping farther into insanity. It’s painful being away from her. It doesn’t help that the connection on the ocean is shit. He keeps missing her calls. The way they left things taints every conversation. Like they tossed a stick of dynamite into their relationship right before he left.
Nathaniel radios for a helicopter to take him back to the ship and heads to the upper deck of theSophia Marie. He’s been called out to the rig at some ungodly hour. A crew mate thought he was having a heart attack when, really, it was a classic case of overeating. And now he’s up. Awake.
Hands clenched around the rail, he looks out over the Pacific. The ocean is choppy. Far off, the bright lights of LA twinkle. Pure torture. He’s this close and can’t touch her.
He should be thinking about his grandfather and his limited time on this earth. Instead, there’s only Ash. Every solitary thought inside his head is Ash, telling him to go home to her.
The way they left things eats at him.
Couples argue. He understands that. But Ash struggles with trust. Her guilt over him and Camellia. Thinking about him not being there, about how they left, it’s like razor wire lining his gut. Ash and that beautiful brain of hers is no doubt overthinking. Worrying. He loves that about her. That she feels. That she cares so damn much.
It’s his job to be there to support her. And he isn’t.
Two more months at sea feels like an eternity. He’s already talked to his supervisor about finding a replacement. If he can, he’ll be on his way home sooner than anticipated.
A wave rocks the boat. Instead of steadying himself, Nathaniel digs his hand into his pocket, turning a velvet box over in his palm. Meant to be a gift for Ash the night he left, but it wasn’t the time. Now it’s burning a hole in his pocket. A reminder of what waits for him at home.