Yeah, bringing him here was the best thing I ever did. Maybe next time I’d invite the guys. At least then we could rest while another of us was taking his turn. By the end of tonight I was gonna be wrecked.
EPILOGUE - PART 2
VAIL
Cold wind rippedthrough the quilted black-and-red-plaid winter coat Aspen had made me put on before we left Touch of the Islands, the bed-and-breakfast one of his aunts and her husband owned. I tugged the matching hat down tighter over my ears and was thankful for the mittens I’d thought were ridiculous. The wind roared through the pine trees at our backs, bending them in a way I found alarming but Aspen didn’t seem to find interesting. Below, waves rolled and crashed against the granite cliffs that spread out sheer and beautiful to our left. I’d barely been able to glance down when Aspen had taken me to the ledge about twenty feet in front of us. My heart still pounded. The sun was well on its way to setting and the rosy golden light made the rock we stood on sparkle.
“I was right, it is cold,” Aspen said offhandedly as he stared out over the gray ocean that spread away like a mesmerizing, endlessly moving sheet of glass.
“Maine’s coast is beautiful in the winter,” I called out over the wind as I stepped closer to Aspen and huddled for warmth. “But I bet it would be even prettier in the summer.”
He snickered and his thumbs moved around the sticks on the small gray radio control he held close to his body. He stared intently ahead, and I switched to scanning the sky, too. Far out over the water a vibrant yellow radio-controlled plane dipped and made a large loop in midair. From this distance it reminded me of an autumn leaf stuck in a dervish. He smirked and nudged me with his elbow.
“That was really good!” I bounced on the tips of my toes. In true Aspen fashion, when he’d announced we were going out of town alone for the weekend to the tune of Cillian’s curses, I’d had no idea what to expect. Aspen liked his secrets, but the more I got to know him, the more it became clear there was still so much to learn, and I already loved him. Every day brought some new little moment with him. He wasn’t like Fallon, who endlessly complimented me, or Rowen, who treated me like glass, or Cillian, whose soul purpose seemed to be to fuck me stupid. No, Aspen was more likely to make his affection clear in homier ways, like buying my favorite cereal or escorting me to my tutoring job when a student’s house was in a fiddly neighborhood where the GPS didn’t work.
And I was so excited to wake up each morning and see what new fun each day would bring. Warm fuzzies bounced around in my chest as I leaned more of my weight against Aspen.
“Is this always where you disappear to for the weekend when you need time alone?”
He turned just enough to press a kiss to the top of my hat. “No.”
“You’re somysterious.”
Aspen chuckled. “Do you wanna try?”
He held out the control and I nearly rocketed into space. “I wanted to ask the second I saw it, but it looks very complicated. I don’t know....” I stared at what he was doing with his fingers and the numbers on the screen at the bottom of the control. Nerves bit at me as I stared out at the plane flying so nicely. “This isn’t something I know anything about. I’d hate to ruin it.”
“I asked if you wanted to try,” he said quietly and nudged me again.
“Yes!” I wriggled my fingers at him, and he tugged a mitten from one hand, then the other before passing over the control. I almost squealed with glee when I nudged one of the sticks on the control and the plane began to go to the right, way out over the water and far beyond the shore. “What should I do?”
“Feel it out.” I glanced at him in panic, but he only put his arm around my shoulders and held me close. “Go ahead.”
It took less than a minute for me to get the plane flying in such a way that it looked like a sick bird and by the time I thrust the control toward Aspen again it was plummeting.
“Save it! Please. I’m so sorry.”
He did a few things to the controls and shook his head, making a noise that surprised me—a low whistle. I turned in consternation to stare out over the water, and when the plane landed smack into the churning waves, he let out a little sound like an explosion before he laughed so hard a tear slid out of the corner of his eye to trek down one cheek.
“I’m so sorry. I know those planes are expensive. I’ll replace it.” I tugged on his coat, but he kept right on going for a while.
“I asked you if you wanted to try knowing what would happen.” He turned me, and I rested against his front with my chin on his chest, staring up into his eyes. My heart pattered too fast, partially from being close to him—the rest because I’d literally broken his toy.
“I’m sorry.”
“I think everyone crashes the first plane they fly.” He leaned his forehead against mine, and I shivered, but not from the wind. Aspen’s intense gaze had me wanting to kiss him or more... but it was far too cold to try anything that involved taking our clothes off. “That plane was due to be replaced. It’s fine. Burial at sea is a good way for one to go.” He turned to glance out over the water, and I tried to figure out what he was looking at—the rolling caps of the waves, one sad wheeling seagull, or something else only he could fathom. “There are probably fifty others out there I’ve lost over the years. A regular Bermuda Triangle.” He chuckled, and I snuggled in closer.
“I’m still sorry. Next time will you tell me how to do it?”
“Mm-hmm. But do you remember what the controls did before you lost the plane?”
Grimacing, I shook my head, and he only snorted out another laugh. I lifted my chin, begging for a kiss, and felt fully forgiven when I got one, complete with a flutter of his tongue against mine.
“Come on, you’re freezing. Let’s go back.” He put the radio control in one of the big pockets in his coat and grabbed my hand.
We took a winding flagstone path through the swaying pine trees and their rich green scent filled my senses. My breath caught, the same way it had when we’d driven in yesterday, as we cleared the tree line to the yard.
The Victorian that housed the bed-and-breakfast was decadent by every measure of the word, clearly built in an era when lavishly showing off your wealth meant an opulent home. The building sprawled and went up three stories. On the side that faced the ocean was a rounded turret that popped up an extra story above the rest of the house and strongly resembled a lighthouse, especially with the white shingle siding and crisp black trim and shingles on the roofs and gables. This path brought us to the back door, which paying customers likely never saw. Aspen opened the door for me and gave me a small push inside to the mudroom.
