After a few minutes, the tub is full so I turn off the water. His eyes are closed. His head is flopped to the side and his hands on my hips have fallen loose.
"C'mon. Let's get you to bed."
With a little help, he stumbles out of the tub and falls into the bed at an odd angle. He's out the second his head hits the mattress. He missed his pillow, and his shorts are wet, but that's okay. He's safely in bed sleeping it off. The sea serpent on his back shines beneath the water drops.
With a towel around my wet clothes, I sneak out to my car to get my bags. After slipping into some PJs and turning on the heater, my exhausted body crashes beside him. A whisper of joy fills my heart. I didn't expect he'd be this messed up, but the empty hole he left behind feels patched up. Not healed, but patched. It was right for me to come here. He needed me.
"You free of your dad?" His deep voice slurs.
"I'll never be free of him," I whisper back.
Chapter 22 The Ribbon
Foss
I woke to a crushing headache and Mila face-down in my bed.
Standing up and fighting the nausea, I take in her sleeping form.
Her shirt has ridden above her waist and tiny black shorts are hugging her curvy ass.
I risk waking her up by moving her foot out and spreading her legs. She stirs but doesn't open her eyes.
Wish I'd taken her from behind more often when I had the chance, but I liked to watch her face when she came. So sexy. Damn. You love someone forward and backward and still lose her. It's not fair, but life ain't fair. Learned that a long time ago.
What the fuck happened last night, and what the hell is she doing here?
I remember thinking someone was there.
I pulled out my shotgun.
She was standing by the cabin like a vision.
Felt like I'd lost my damn mind.
It's a little blurry after that. There was some water involved and now here she is sleeping in my bed. I hope I didn't fuck her and forget it. That would suck. I'd want to remember that.
I change out of my damp shorts and pull on a shirt and jeans. My eyes look bloodshot, my beard is out of control, and my hair is shit.
What did I say to her? What am I going to say to her?
Luckily she sleeps through my breakfast and gives me some time to take ibuprofen and wake the hell up.
After a good long hour of watching her gorgeous ass sleep, she wakes up. She pulls her hair from her face and looks around. Our gazes lock and it's like before. She captivates me and I'm hooked.
She groans and flops her head down, her mass of brown hair covering her face again.
"You need to get the hell out of here." My voice is rough like I'm chewing on tree bark.
Her brow scrunches and she props her torso up on one arm. "Excuse me?"
"Get your ass back to New York." I have to clear my throat to get the words out.
"No," she says like the spoiled rich brat she pretends to be. She puts on a convincing show, but the real Mila is sweet, kind, and down-to-earth. I've seen through her rich-girl act since day one.
"No?"
"No," she says again. Oh, I like this side of her. She's the one who showed up at my place and forced herself in. She's an unwelcome house guest and she's saying no to me?
"My place. My rules. You leave."
When her gaze meets mine again, it's hard to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up. The place is trashed. I look like a baseball player at the end of the World Series. The Foster she knew kept a clean apartment and a shaved chin.
"Actually, it's my place." She seems oblivious that she's talking nonsense.
Have we had this absurd discussion before?
"What the hell are you talking about?" I keep my voice angry because she seriously needs to leave before I grab her cute little waist and bang her on this kitchen table. Damn. I can't even entertain thoughts like that but the desire is strong. She's breathtaking even though she just woke up and she's saying stupid stuff.
"I own the deed. Henry left it to me."
Her mention of Henry jabs my heart. I miss the man. And what does she think she's saying?
"He did not. He left it to me. I got the papers."
She climbs out of the bed and wanders over to a set of pink luggage by the door. Her initials are embossed on it in large black cursive letters.
She withdraws an envelope from an outer pocket and waves it in the air. "So did I," she says like a lawyer presenting the clinching bit of evidence.
"Henry," I can barely get his name out without choking up, "wrote you into his will?"
"That's what it says." She walks over and slaps it on the table.
But I'm gone. I'm not here. I'm with Henry the night I said goodbye to him.
Go get her. Watch out for Pleasure Mountain. People tend to fall in love up there.
He cared about me.
Henry wanted her for me.
And he set this up to push us back together.
I have to squeeze the bridge of my nose to hide the riot of emotion that assaults me. I was a stranger to Henry, and he loved me like his own blood. He didn't have to do it. He stopped and picked up a soaking-wet kid and took me in. For the first time, I had a home and a father I could trust. After knowing him, I had no argument anymore that the world was unkind and unjust. The man was true through and through. He wanted me to take his name and I did. I'm Foss Twist now because of him.
"I'm sorry you lost Henry," her soft voice pulls me back to the kitchen.
I run my hands through my hair and sigh. "Me too."
We sit quietly for a long time remembering Henry's presence in our lives."Can I get a cup of coffee?"
"There." I tilt my head toward the pot I'd made earlier. "It's not the swanky kind you're used to. It's basically dirt from a can."
"I do not need swank in my morning joe. If it has caffeine, it works for me."
She opens the fridge and helps herself to my milk, which I'm not sure isn't expired. This also doesn't seem to bother her as she sits down at my messy table. The envelope waits between the chaotic mess of mail, cups, and tools.
She calmly takes a sip of coffee and it's all too much. Mila is sitting in the middle of my self-imposed isolation. She hurled herself into my torture chamber like it's nothing. She's crossing so many lines, I can't keep track.
"So you're here to fight over this property? You could have sent a lawyer to do that."
"Not here for the land, Foster."
"I go by Foss now."
She tilts her head and grins. "I like it."
"Why'd you come here, Mila?"
"I thought you might be here. And you are. My dad said he killed you."
"Your dad is a fucking liar. Clearly not dead." I motion from my head to my feet. I look like hell, but I'm not dead.
"Thank God."
She's happy I'm not dead. I wish that didn't give me hope, but it does.
"We broke up, Mila. You didn't want to leave your dad for me. Didn't trust me to keep you safe here. That change?"
"Everything's changed."
Holy shit. Everything's changed? Like she's going to walk back into my life?
"Nothing's changed. You chose him over me. Wrecked me."