Talon’s words ring true. He’ll stay here with Floyd, and he needs me to stay with Dale. To take care of his son. For even though Floyd abandoned Dale and Dale doesn’t feel anything for him, he’s still Dale’s birth father, and Dale is struggling on some level.
Dale always seems to be struggling on some level.
“Go on,” Talon says again. “I’ll call your mother and tell her what’s going on.”
“You’re right,” I say to Talon. “Let’s go, Dale.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Dale
I take Ashley home to the main house.
“Wait just a minute,” she says. “I’m going with you.”
“Ash, it’s late. I’m exhausted. We got nothing done today, and I just need…”
“Need what?” she asks. “What do you need? I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
I need to be alone.
But the words don’t make it past the lump in my throat. Because I do want to be alone, but I also want to be with Ashley.
Ashley, who makes my world a brighter place.
Ashley, whose smile could melt a glacier.
Ashley, who, God help me, I love more than my own life.
She continues, “Your father said you need me. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”
“Damn it, Ashley, I’m not going through anything! Just let me…” I pound one fist on the steering wheel, inadvertently honking the horn.
“It’s late,” Ashley says softly. “You’ll wake up your mom.”
“My mom’s not asleep yet. Damn!” I pound it again, avoiding the horn this time.
She touches my upper arm. “Hey. Let’s go. Penny’s bladder is probably about to burst, and she needs to be fed. I’ll take care of all that. You need a shower and then maybe a soak in your hot tub.”
What I need is…
Hell, I don’t have a clue what I need.
I turn and gaze into Ashley’s sparkling blue eyes. They’re tired, but still they dazzle.
“Please,” she says. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
“You’re as exhausted as I am, baby.”
She closes her eyes for a split second and then opens them. “I like that. When you call me baby.”
My hand, seemingly of its own accord, reaches toward her, caresses her silky cheek. “I’m okay. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“So? Maybe it’s what I need. Maybe I need to take care of you.”
I chuckle softly, but it comes out more like a groan. “You don’t need that.”
Those tired eyes light on fire then. Blue fire. “Who are you to say what I need?”
I let out a slow sigh. Do I want her with me tonight? Yeah. I do. And it’s not because I’m having a rough time, or because I’m worried about my birth father, or because I missed the harvest, or because I’m having a pity party for myself.
I want her with me tonight for one reason and one reason only.
I love her.
I fucking love her.
I maneuver the truck out of the driveway and head to the guesthouse.
Once home, we let Penny out.
“Relax,” Ashley says. “I’ll feed her. What do you need? A glass of water? Glass of wine?”
Why do I resist being cared for? That was always part of the issue with my mom. She wanted to constantly hover over me, try to make up for the pain I’d been through. It was a loving gesture, but it wasn’t what I needed or wanted.
Ashley’s words barrel through my mind. Maybe it’s what I need.
All those years, did I neglect my mother’s needs?
Did she need to care for me, and I turned her away at every count?
“Shit,” I say aloud.
“What’s wrong?” Ashley asks.
“Nothing. A glass of wine would be nice. Thanks. There’s an open bottle of Ruby in the pantry sealed with the Vacu Vin.”
“I’ll get it. I’m going to get you some water too. You’re probably dehydrated. I haven’t seen you drink anything but coffee and your iced tea at lunch. Go sit down.”
I drop into a kitchen chair.
“Not there,” she admonishes. “Go to the family room. Sit somewhere comfortable. I’ll bring your wine and water in a minute, right after I feed Penny.”
Numbly, I obey her. I’m not used to obeying anyone, but honestly? Right now it feels kind of good to have someone else tell me what to do.
It means I don’t have to think.
Thinking is overrated, I think.
Then I laugh aloud at my own oxymoron, which makes me realize how fucked in the head I truly am at this moment.
I plunk down on my leather chair and recline it as far as it goes. I close my eyes, listening to Ashley shuffling in the kitchen, preparing Penny’s food.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says as she opens the door.
Penny’s claws tap the floor as she runs to her feast.
Then the pop as Ashley removes the vacuum sealer from the wine bottle. Soft trickles as she pours, and then louder ones for the water.
Sounds. I’m only used to Penny’s and my sounds at home. Hearing Ashley’s sounds comforts me in an odd way.