Page 11 of Bone Dust

Time passed.

Why is it that death is the one thing we all know is coming but we’re never prepared?

Acceptance came and, instead of screaming, I began to breathe.

Sam did everything. As he shared my grief, he held my hand and dried my tears. He’s stood by me as the pain of losing my parents became bittersweet memories.

“Love does that,” I say the words out loud. Conviction pinches my conscience. I owe Sam an apology.

Drawing my back into the seat, I pull myself erect, start the engine, and lower the windows. As I pull out of the parking lot and onto the main road, I push the button on the radio and note the slight of my hand as I lower the volume. It’s a pretty ride home. Hopefully, I’ll mellow out as I drive.

There’s something special about Rock Hills. I’m glad Sam convinced me to move here. The air is warm and the breeze rushing through plays with my hair. There’s a scent to Bristlecone pine that’s clean and fresh. The night’s dark denim canopy is dotted with stars that play peek-a-boo with drifting clouds. This beautiful expanse is Mother Nature’s medicine and has played an instrumental part in my healing.

A familiar tune steals my attention away. I huff a laugh at the irony of a Boundless Hearts love song. I’d roll my eyes but it’s sweet. Dash Barrows said he wrote it the night he met his wife.

The first time I saw you, girl, I knew my life had changed

My lonely heart beat faster, my life you rearranged

You’re the very reason I love to sleep at night

In my arms forever, our future burning bright

Ian’s words play through my head. He’s right; it was such a tragic end for such a beautiful soul. Before it was just a sad story but seeing the pain of his loss written all over his face, I’m empathetic. Death and demons. It’s a wonder he survived.

Thoughts of Ian return and, this time, instead of fighting, I go with them. He looks so damn good. He’s gained weight and put on muscle. His face has filled out where he used to look gaunt. There’s a scar I remember that runs through his eyebrow. The story goes that he put a metal bucket on his head when he was a kid to make other kids laugh. If the story is true, it only makes the mark more appealing. His hair is shorter and looks nothing like the bed-head mess he used to wear. It’s long enough that it brushes his shoulder and falls just below his strong and chiseled jaw. His eyes are most definitely brighter. They aren’t bloodshot and glazed like the last time I saw him. There’s a danger in those eyes; a delicious mix of amber with flecks of gold. Like the woods in autumn, the brown reminds me of a warm campfire with a mug of hot cider. And he smells so good. A crisp, clean, salt air scent wave drifted in the distance between us—or did it come from the black tee-shirt that showcased the muscle he’d gained since I last saw him? No doubt he’s been working out. Ian was sexy when he was skinny but, now that there’s so much more of him, he looks even sexier. I’ll never forget that night in the elevator. It stopped between floors, and we were stuck inside. He tasted like whiskey and called me his angel.

Stop.

Straddling my thoughts, I lock them down and focus on the present instead of the past. There’s someone at home waiting for me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ian

“I

don’t think she likes you very much.” Sam’s half-cocked smile mocks me, but his words ring true.

“What gave it away,” I snark back.

“That ain’t important.” He changes the subject. “Anyway, how’d you like her singing?”

My brow hitches. “She’s okay.”

“O-KAY?” Sam’s posture springs up, accompanying an indignant look.

I pop back, raising my hands in surrender. “All right. Calm down. I’ll be honest, she’s good. Real good.”

“Well, thanks. That’s just what I needed to hear.” A satisfied expression settles over his face.

Adopting a more relaxed posture, he leans on the bar. Sam’s tall. His body hits the counter at his waist. He’s a bit older than me but middle age hasn’t settled on him. His broad chest and muscular arms give him an overwhelming presence. I have no doubt he can take care of himself against anyone who pisses him off.

I bide my time as I sip my drink and give him a minute to recalibrate. “I can tell you really like that girl.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.” He shrugs. “You don’t need to pay that no never mind. She’s pretty and she’s smart. She’s got one of them voices that can set fire to the rain.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You, referencing Adele? Are you kidding me?”

---