But, hell, the confident version of me she’d known in New York felt scarce and hard to dredge up at times. It’s like I forgot how to be that man in the fraught atmosphere she’d created. The bold New York version of Gray didn’t fit anymore. I couldn’t be harsh and teasing all the time, given all the things she was already struggling to manage, and with her spicy attitude, it’d be too much. Adding my emotions to the mix just seemed wrong when she was already so overwhelmed and disoriented. I understood what it felt like to have your entire world upended. She needed me to soften so she could, too.
I stepped away from the window, the show over, moving to make myself another cup of coffee and start food for dinner.
I chuckled at the roles we were playing, feeling they were flipped from what one might consider traditional. Betty was no damsel in distress, even though danger seemed to find her like a heat-seeking missile. When it did, though, she rose to meet it without hesitation.
This grit would make her an exceptional mother one day. She’d be fiercely protective, strict in the right ways, and endlessly willing to help her children grow and prosper. Thinking about it made me hard. Family was such a dream of mine, and a dream I so badly wanted with her.
I was eager to take a supporting role as the father to our children and her sidekick, be the villain at her back in a fight, willing to protect my family this time around, and keep them safe. I could do that for her, and I would.
Chapter 18
Betty
Today was the day; it had to be. The percentage left on my phone battery had dipped into the teens. This was my last chance to get away and find a signal. I hoped, at the very least, to find enough signal to send a text to Nash.
The day was cloudless, and the shed was nearly pristine. I’d improved my little spa area with various items from the shelves. Old flower pots, turned upside down, now held some of Gray’s candles, and I plugged in more fairy lights to the solar power. It felt almost magical. If only I could share it on social media.
I glanced down at my work boots, surprised by how worn they already looked after just a few weeks of wearing them. Gray must have gone through hundreds of boots in his life with all he’d done.
All the exercise was showing on my body too. My arm muscles were more defined than ever, and my legs could squat to pick up heavy objects like nobody’s business. Every night ended with sore muscles, but it made it easy to fall asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.That was on purpose. I exhausted myself like this to keep anxious thoughts at bay. Mostly, it was working.
I lifted my coat from the hook by the door.“Heading to the shed,” I called over my shoulder.“See you at lunch?”
Gray was leaving through the other door to tend to the greenhouse.“See you later,” he said.
Apparently, there was a leak in a section of the aquaponics, which would keep him occupied until at least lunch, if not mid-afternoon. It was the perfect incident and granted me about four hours to go to the cliff and return.
There was a secret go-pack ready in the shed, filled with climbing rope, a solo belay device—so I could control my ascent and descent without, you know, dying—carabiners, an old first aid kit, a helmet, and bear spray that I’d tested on a rat the other day.
It still worked.
I also found a plethora of random pocket knives and selected a few of the sharpest.
Most of the gear was old and beat up, but after working the hinges and polishing them with a rag, I found it usable. I didn’t expect needing to climb too high; I was an experienced climber and had no qualms about height or challenging angles. My only fear was how secluded we were. If I experienced a fall, getting help would be tricky, especially if Gray couldn’t find me.
But, fingers crossed, we’d be just fine. I hadn’t made a mistake in years.
As I rounded the shed door, I peeked through a crack in the siding, watching the hill for the icicles on the greenhouse to rattle. This would show me that Gray had gone inside and shut the door. He was a firm door shutter; it was a handy habit in this moment.
When I saw the icicles shake and glimmer in the dawning sunlight, I snatched up my pack and exited the shed as quickly as possible. I slid along the length of the building until I rounded the corner. The fence around the property greeted me, and I hopped it with ease, my feet landing with a crunch in the snow on the other side.
Behind me, I heard a familiar chattering sound. Larry had spotted me from his tree, and when I glanced back, I saw him bounding after me in curious spurts.
“Are you coming with me?” I asked.
Larry tilted his head, then hurried even closer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Can you show me a good place to cross the river?”
Larry’s whiskers twitched back and forth as he trotted to my side. He’d been quite the character all week, proving endlessly useful in my bid to free the shed of vermin. He’d even met the cats through the window. Mr. Beans wasn’t impressed, but Villainy seemed to enjoy him, sitting on the sill and pawing at the glass.
Larry was getting plump from the steady supply of delicacies I was providing. He and I had reached a mutual understanding: he agreed not to jump out of the racks or leave dead animals in my bathtub, and I agreed not to judge his protein preferences. After all, protein was paramount.
We also did a lot of talking. It was nice to have someone to commiserate with about Gray, who seemed hellbent on remaining infuriatingly steady and stalwart. The man never seemed to falter.
Gray’s determination to do things for me and his unsettling talent to be sweet just when I needed it only fueled my annoyance. I desperately wanted to hate him, but he was making it difficult. He teased me, but delicately, and it was something I actually liked about him. I think he knew it, too. Gray was far too adept at the concept of a witty barb, always having the perfect retort ready to counter my snarky comments.
He was a gorgeous, resilient asshole.
