Chapter 9
Arden
IputHoldendown near the coffee table where it looks like he’s been drawing, but he grabs my hand and leads me to a pair of sliding glass doors in the kitchen. Beyond the yard, which is surrounded by a tall wooden fence, I see a dense line of trees standing out against the pink evening horizon.
Holden taps on the window and a medium-sized brown and white dog with floppy ears runs up to greet him.
“Timber,” Holden squeals, kneeling down and moving his hand across the window so Timber follows. Judging by the smudges across the glass, this isn’t the first time he’s played this game today.
Timber’s tail wags, and she barks and paws at the window.
“Can we play?” Holden asks.
“Let’s wait for Dash, okay?” I run my fingers through his soft curls and nudge him back toward the living room. I really need to get off my aching feet.
Structurally, Dash's house has a classic farmhouse feel, but it looks as if everything has been modernized recently. I wonder if he's done the work himself or if he purchased it this way, but it's a mix of rustic and modern that perfectly fits him.
When Dash returns, his expression is somber as if he’s been hollowed out.
Holden jumps to his feet, and my voice catches in my throat while I watch his arms flail outward, knocking over the small glass on the table.
“Uh, oh.” Holden’s lower lip quivers as he watches the water spill across his drawings.
“It’s okay, buddy.” Dash scoops Holden up, wincing as he straightens. “Help me clean it up?”
Holden nods, and Dash grabs a few paper towels before sitting Holden down next to the coffee table. Once the water is cleaned up, Holden disposes of the towels and his wet paper, then gives Dash a fist bump. “Can we play with Timber now?”
Dash looks to me and I nod, then he ruffles Holden’s hair. “I guess you’ve waited long enough.”
No matter what else is going on, Dash’s voice is always soothing when he speaks to my son, and I feel myself sinking deeper into his hold.
Holden takes Dash’s hand, and we all head through the sliding glass doors to the back porch. After introductions, Holden and Timber take to the open yard, playing together like old friends. Over the next few minutes, I watch as Dash and Holden take turns throwing a red ball. Each time, Timber proudly carries it back and drops it at their feet.
Dash brushes a hand over his face before returning to the porch and leaning against the railing next to me.
“Are you okay?”
He nods, but his eyes are still cloudy.
“Is that why you keep wincing?”
“It’s nothing major. I pulled a muscle at work. I was actually about to leave when you called.” He twists his back slightly, and I watch the discomfort on his face.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugs and looks away. “You and Holden needed a hand. I wasn’t going to say no.”
His back isn’t the only thing bothering him, but it is the one thing I might be able to alleviate, so I step behind him and run my hands down his spine. “Where does it hurt?”
He takes a beat to respond. “Lower left.”
I massage the area, working from the surrounding muscle back to the knot near his spine. Every time he tenses, I back off to give the muscles a moment to relax. I watch Holden running with Timber around the open yard while my fingers work their magic. This is just a nice back massage, nothing more. Even if there is a part of me yelling otherwise.
“That’s it,” Dash says quietly. “Exactly where it hurts.”
I continue, working down his back to the waistband of his jeans.
Dash lets out a long exhale, dropping his head forward. “You’re very good at that.”
After a few more minutes, I pause and run my hands lightly over his back and shoulders. “Are you opposed to the smell of mint?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then, watch Holden for a minute.” I run back inside and grab the menthol roll-on from my purse. It’s gotten me through dozens of long shifts at Paddy’s.
Holden and Timber are lying on their stomachs in the grass when I return. I guess that upset stomach didn’t last long.
Lifting Dash’s shirt, I roll the cooling balm over the sore muscles. “How’s that?”
“I don’t know. Think you can come back and repeat that every day so I can give thorough feedback?” His voice is low and gruff, sending a shiver down my spine.
I flick him in the back of the head, trying to dispel the tension between us.
Without warning, he spins to face me, leaning back against the railing. “I need to tell you something.”
I screw the lid back on the rub and finagle it into my back pocket for now. Dread rises from my stomach, and a cool, prickly feeling settles over my shoulders. “Okay.”
“The woman you saw out front was Brandy. We dated in high school, and she has this tendency to pop up every couple of years, especially...” His brows furrow, creating thick lines across his forehead. “Especially when I start feeling like I’m in a good place.”
I nod, struggling to give him my attention while keeping an eye on Holden out of the corner of my eye.
“When I was seventeen, my dad got a call from her parents. She was pregnant, but it was ectopic and ruptured. I was pretty hard on myself for what happened. We took our anger out on each other, but at the same time, we kept gravitating together. I thought if we could just fix us, do better, maybe the guilt would go away. And because of all that, I’ve never been able to say no to her. Which led me to make some pretty fucked up decisions.” He runs his tongue over his lips and lowers his eyes to the deck.