Page 80 of A Reckless Memory

“I didn’t mean...” He let out a sigh. “I’m not going anywhere—I can’t afford to. I know this thing between us is old and new, but...is Crocus Valley where you want to be your whole life?”

“Yes.” I’d found everything I wanted in Crocus Valley. Including him. “You don’t like living there?”

“It’s like any other place I’ve lived. I’ve gotten used to adapting.”

But he’d never had a place that was his.

He flexed his arms, bringing me closer to him. “Anyway, you’re stuck with me.”

And when I wasn’t?

The question echoed in my head as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The heavy end to our conversation the night before was forgotten as he pumped into me while we were both in the shower. My legs were wrapped around his flexing ass, and I was holding on to a soap holder. The shampoo and conditioner had already been knocked off their shelves.

“Oh god,” I gasped. He’d already gotten me off once. I didn’t know how much water we were wasting, and I didn’t care. My body tightened right before lightning exploded across my vision, and I started bucking against him.

He licked up my neck and sucked on my earlobe. “I can feel you coming—you’re fucking fisting my cock.” He groaned and went rigid, his strokes shortening.

Water streamed down my face. He was blocking most of the spray, but with his head tilted while he caught his breath, I was getting pummeled.

A giggle eased out. He narrowed his eyes.

“It’s stupid. I’m getting hammered by the water, but I just got hammered...”

His grin was lopsided, good-natured, and he flipped the lever to shut the water off. It was so damn simple between us, but what he’d admitted last night rushed back. He liked being with me, but what about when he had other options?

Yet he still offered to take less pay, knowing it’d take him longer to save up money to get his own place.

What did it all mean?

I handed him a towel and wrapped another around myself. Grabbing a smaller one for my hair, I stepped out of the tub-shower combo and went to my old bedroom.

Ansen’s hair was tousled when I turned, softening his hard edges and giving him a boyish charm that was irresistible. I’d stay with him until he broke my heart again, and maybe I’d accepted that. I had everything else I wanted, and I was gambling on him.

We dressed together. Not the first time. I put on a pink, collared blouse that I’d wear with a long, flowing gray cardigan, some black slacks, and my ankle boots. Daddy would hate everyone dressing up. Cody would probably throw a suit coat on with his normal button-down and slacks. Eliot and Austen would likely be in black jeans and a dress shirt. Anyone else who showed would most likely be in jeans or business casual.

I went back to the bathroom to wind my hair into its normal tight bun to contain the curls, but I got caught on my flushed cheeks. I might cry—and I hated crying in public—but tears or not, I’d definitely get red. Daddy would dislike me all gussied up too. Probably made me look too much like Mama, which likely made him feel the anger, hurt, and bitterness from her leaving, and Daddy hated that as well. As an ode to him, I left my hair down. The wind would kick it into a frenzy. I’d look a little wild, like he’d known me to be.

Just as I was finished attempting to tame my hair, Ansen leaned against the bathroom door. His gaze stroked over my hair.

I met his stare in the mirror. “It’s going to get taller as the day goes on.”

“The bigger the hair, the closer to God.”

We grinned just as the front door banged open. “Aggie, who the hell is here with you? And it’d better not be who I think it is!” Eliot shouted.

My heart rammed into my throat, and I choked on a gasp.

Ansen jerked like he’d been jolted with a cattle prod. His eyes flared, but he set his jaw and tipped his chin down. “I don’t want a confrontation. Not today.”

My heart rate dipped back to normal. I hooked my arm through his. “I refuse to let them make it a big deal.”

Daddy would’ve loved it, though.

Eliot and Austen piled through the entry on the other side of the kitchen. Eliot wore exactly what I suspected, but Austen was in a polo and jeans with a camouflaged backpack slung over one shoulder. His dark hair was buzzed to the scalp with a little length on top, same as usual. He and Eliot could almost be twins. Except Eliot wore his hair longer and usually messier, but he’d styled it to the side today and hadn’t worn a hat yet.

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