“Other than the gym?” I don’t even have to think about it. “The park by the river. I used to go there in the evenings for the peace and quiet.”
“Then that’s what I want to see.”
I drive us there. The park has changed in the past twenty years. There’s new playground equipment, and a water feature has been installed, which seems pointless to me when the river is right there. Several cars are parked in the lot, and we pull up beside a shiny black SUV. I get out and go around the car to take Ashlin’s hand. Now that I’ve experienced the joy of being connected to her again, I’m never letting go. She seems fine with that because she gladly slips her hand into mine and walks alongside me, close enough that our bodies brush with each movement. I guide her to a picnic table beneath a tree that overlooks the river, and we sit.
“This is where I used to come when I needed space.”
She looks around. “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”
It’s nothing compared to her. She puts everything else to shame. I open my mouth to tell her so, but a shout interrupts me.
“Seth?” It’s a man’s voice, loud and obnoxious. “Seth Isles, is that you?”
Both Ashlin and I look in the direction of the sound, and I curse under my breath. Rapidly approaching, twenty years older but apparently no wiser, is the person responsible for making my school life hell: my half-brother.
Ashlin must notice me wince, because she squeezes my hand. “You okay?”
I nod almost imperceptibly. “That’s Trip.” Short for Harrison Yale the Third. Although I have no clue why the fuck he’s smiling and waving as he approaches.
I stand, not wanting to be at a physical disadvantage, and prepare to defend Ashlin if needed. The change in position makes a couple of things clear. First, I have several inches on him, and second, the years have not been kind. The prom king’s muscular frame has gone to seed, leaving a beer gut in its place. His hair is thinning, and his eyes are rimmed with red.
“Long time, no see,” Trip says, coming to a stop in front of us. His gaze lingers appreciatively on Ashlin, who fidgets with the hem of her skirt. If he ogles her for one more second, I’m going to have to hurt him.
“Trip,” I reply, and don’t introduce Ashlin.
“I didn’t realize you were back in Cedar Bend,” he continues, grinning as though I’m his long-lost friend. What the fuck is going on?
“I’m not. Just visiting Mom and her new boyfriend.”
Something ugly flashes through his eyes, but he suppresses it quickly. “Never thought I’d see you again. You kicked ass in the UFC. Pity you retired when you did.”
I stiffen, because plenty of people have opinions on me retiring from fighting at the top of my game, but I’ve never had regrets. I didn’t want to be one of those old guys who insist on getting in the ring only to get knocked out over and over again. I wanted a full life with Ashlin.
I force myself to shrug. “It was my time.”
He shakes his head, his fleshy chin wobbling. “You could’ve held onto your title for another year, easy.”
“Didn’t want to.” My gaze wanders to Ashlin of its own accord. “My career wasn’t the only thing in my life.”
“Oh, yeah?” Trip’s attention focuses on her in a way I don’t like. My fists clench at my sides. “I heard you got divorced. Guess that freed you up to play the field with hot younger women.” He holds up a hand as though he expects me to high-five it. “Am I right?”
“No.” The word falls like a gunshot between us because this shit show of a conversation has gone on long enough. “This is Ashlin. My ex-wife. And if you speak another fucking disrespectful word about her, I’ll introduce you to my famous right cross.”
“Jesus, man.” He holds up his hands and backs away. “Once a bastard, always a bastard.”
Bastard.
I flinch. Fuck, I hate that word. Especially when it’s spoken in the context in which he means it.
By-blow.
Accident.
I’ve heard them all. I take a step forward as though to lunge, but a hand on my shoulder stops me. Ashlin has moved from her spot at the table.
“Don’t.” Her voice is soft. “He’s not worth it.” She glares at Trip, who mutters something under his breath, and then shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away. “Seth. Look at me.”
My gaze dips to her face, taking in lips that are puffy from sucking my dick, and an angular chin that’s raised with determination.
