“Friend,” Miles interrupted. “A walk around the lake sounds lovely.”
Mr. Carrington patted Miles on the arm. “That’s a good man. Have fun.” He walked off chuckling to himself.
That left me standing there holding Henry, staring at mybosswhile my cheeks burned hotter than the sun. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Don’t be. If circumstances were different, if I were different . . .”
I peered into his conflicted eyes. What did he mean byif he were different?
In haste, he took Henry from me. “Let’s go take afriendlywalk around the lake. Shall we?”
I nodded and led the way, not sure what to say. Tension hung between us. Not the angry kind, but the kind when things were left unsaid, or when too much was said. I felt like I was back in high school, walking down the hall after one of my guy friends admitted to having feelings for me and I couldn’t say it back. But this was worse because I did have some feelings, but they scared me and needed to remain unspoken.
The only sounds that could be heard was Henry pointing out every bird and squirrel he saw and the crunch of the gravel beneath our feet. Our trek had us passing several vacant cabins and the empty volleyball courts down to the lake. The Ranch was a quiet place this time of year, as it only had guests during the summer months. It was more of a hobby and a legacy to Mrs. Carrington now. The Carringtons didn’t need the money, but Emma loved walking in her mother’s footsteps and hosting guests who had become more like family.
I hated awkward silence, so I did something about it. “Is Isabella speaking to you again?”
Miles set Henry down so he could do some exploring under our watchful care. By exploring, I meant picking up every rock and stick he could and throwing them or showing them to us if he found them interesting. He may have looked like a little gentleman, but he was all boy.
Miles didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took his blazer off and draped it around my shoulders. “You keep rubbing your arms.”
It was the cruelest, nicest thing a man had done for me in a long time. Holy heaven his spicy smell was driving me mad with desire. Not to mention his thoughtfulness. I hadto remind myself that my cerebral cortex was fully attached now and I was no longer an impulsive eighteen or nineteen-year-old who got tattoos because I was dared to by an attractive smelling man, or who slept with her ex-boyfriend because he promised he would love her forever. Neither of those men were thoughtful. They never would have offered me their jackets. Neither offered me anything but lies.
“Thank you,” I whispered and, against my better judgment, I wrapped the warm jacket around me tighter. His scent engulfed me. I held my breath. Then a long ago thought hit me. In the psychology course I had taken in college I remembered reading in one of my textbooks, that if you wanted to do better and heal, you couldn’t avoid triggers. You needed to face them head on and deal with them. I staggered as if I’d tripped on a rock. Miles reached out to steady me. If that wasn’t poetic. I took a deep, deep breath. In that breath, I had an epiphany. It was so strong I had to stop and take a moment. That was my problem. I needed to stop avoiding men. I could never learn to trust myself again until I did. Wow. I so didn’t want to hear that.
“Are you all right, Aspen?”
I blinked a few times, trying to come out of my truth bomb. “I just had a thought about Isabella,” I stuttered. Yeah. That was good. Use the fictional character to deal with real life. Seriously, I needed help.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about her as well. She’s very pleased with this place.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“But tell me your thoughts,” he encouraged.
I started walking again to keep up with Henry because I knew as soon as he could see the lake, one of us would need to grab him before he took a very cold bath.
Miles followed, eager to hear what I had to say.
“It just dawned on me that you have to make Isabella face what she’s been avoiding, namely her father’s secrets, her ex’s betrayal, and emotional intimacy. But she has to come to that conclusion on her own. She’ll never heal if she doesn’t, and if she doesn’t heal, she won’t believe there are any reasons to not only trust Dexter, but to trust herself with Dexter.” Suddenly I was on a roll. “And . . . she needs to understand that she’s never known what emotional intimacy really is, because if she realizes that, then maybe she won’t be so afraid of it.”
Oh crap, my brain was saying.Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. Did you just hear what you said? For the love of all that is good, listen to it.This was all very unwelcome news. I rubbed my heart furiously. At least it made someone happy.
Miles beamed at me. “You are brilliant, love.”
But would I listen to myself?
Chapter Nineteen
Thelaststoponthe tour was the amphitheater. It had special meaning to me because of the pergola that sat front and center. I had watched the three best friends I ever had get married under it. It looked a little sad this time of year with dying leaves clinging to the vines. In the summer, it was covered in pink crawling roses, Mrs. Carrington’s favorite.
“Mr. Carrington and Mrs. Carrington were married under the pergola,” I told Miles while he took pictures of it. I stood close by, but far enough away to not be in any of his shots. “It used to be at the country club where they got married, but for their first anniversary, he brought it here.”
Miles lowered his phone. “He’s a romantic.”
“He is.”
“I will have to use that bit of knowledge for my story.” He waved me toward the pergola. “You and Henry get under the pergola, so I can take a picture of you.”
