That got his attention.
“What?” he mumbles, surprised by my question.
I turn to face him fully and take a step closer. Easton’s in his signature gray hoodie with ‘Alaska Power’ on the pocket, jeans, and work boots.
And looking as appetizing as ever.
With his hands stuffed in his front pockets, he gives me his undivided attention, ready to face my question head-on. I’ve noticed that about him. The way he appears reserved in some ways, but it serves to be his greatest strength.
He’s intentional with his words and actions. And there’s something incredibly comforting about a man who doesn’t need to be the center of attention or the star of the show.
He’s perfectly content just existing within.
Easton is meek. Admirably humble. And undeniably tense.
“I said, what would Ben do if he were here? If it were just the two of you out here on a guys’ trip, what would he do?”
I expect him to close himself off and retreat, but again, Easton surprises me and smiles. He’s been doing more of that lately. A wide grin spreads across his cheeks like he just thought of something so incredibly special.
I hope he shares it with me.
He nods to the geyser in front of us. “He’d probably find a way to the other side of that bank just to show off and take a piss off of it.” His laugh tells me he can imagine it right now. Oddly enough, I can too. “I’d call him a little bitch for not jumping, and he’d moon me or some shit just because he can.”
“He sounds like a troublemaker,” I tease.
His chuckle is deep, the raspiness of his voice warming my heart. “Oh, we were hell on wheels together. Any trouble we could find, we made happen. Some of the best times of my life were with him. Sucks he’s gone.”
“I bet he misses you. But I also bet he wants you to remember to live. I know if I lost my sister, she’d want the same thing for me. That’s what family does—they root for each other.”
“It’s not that simple,” he sighs. “He was my best friend, and I broke a promise to him.” He grows silent, eyes never straying from the peak of the geyser above. I can read the room enough to know his memories are headed somewhere deeper. Somewhere more difficult to voice than imagining him here.
I hate that he feels guilty. I may not have known Ben, but I doubt he’d want Easton to live this way.
Reaching for his hand, I direct his attention to me. “It’s okay to talk about him and allow it to make you happy, Easton. That can be a way of grieving as well. If Ben isanything like you say he is, I’d bet my last pack of very berry Gushers he forgives you. And that’s if there’s even anything to forgive. Sydney is safe, and that’s what’s important. I guarantee you even have a plan for how you’ll take care of her even more when you get back home. You did your part and then some.”
His nod answers my question. I can see his care without knowing his full story. Heaviness fills his eyes. “I’m not so sure about that, lost girl. It’s been two years, and I still don’t have the answers. I don’t think I ever will. I just have to accept my choices and move on, I guess.”
He accepts the outcome more now than he did even yesterday. That’s progress. Baby steps. We’ve been in Wyoming together for a week, and I’m beginning to care for Easton much more than I expected.
But I can gather that right now, he doesn’t want to talk about the past. He wants to enjoy this moment, and that’s one thing I’m confident I can help with.
“And here I was about to compliment you for how well you’re handling things,” I assure him, reaching to hold his arm. “Hey, I have an idea. Something I have a feeling the infamous Benjamin Voss would encourage.” Easton looks skeptical, like he knows I’m up to no good. “Might take your mind off of it,” I suggest, smiling playfully.
“Out with it, Meadows.”
My smile is wicked. “Skinny dipping.” I sound like I’m teasing, but I’ve never been more serious. Call this a part of my plan to loosen Easton up a bit.
No better way than getting naked. And boy do I want to see that man stripped down to nothing.
“Skinny dipping?” he deadpans. “In the hot spring?”
I nod. “That’s what I said, isn’t it? Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
His head rears back. “That a fucking challenge?”
Within the last twenty-four hours, Easton’s began to crumble. I’ve felt his control slipping, slowly chipping away. In how he reaches for my arm in conversation but lets the touch linger. Earlier I caught him tracing the water droplets falling down my chest after a shower, making no effort to look away.
Shameless appreciation is all I felt. Like a trophy to be admired.
