Chapter 34
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Chloe glanced at me. “There’s nothing I can do about that. This is a small place. I’ll make sure to close the door next time to keep out unwanted guests.”
I laughed inwardly. “Thanks, Mrs. Sutton.”
I walked over to the sink and picked up my toothbrush and toothpaste. Next to mine was a military- green toothbrush holder–unmistakably Ashton’s. Mine was pink, and his was green. His was large, and mine was small. Together, they looked surprisingly harmonious.
I filled my toothbrush holder with water and started brushing, deliberately ignoring Synthia. But I could feel her eyes scanning me up and down like a laser.
“Elaine, meet Synthia Carter,” Chloe made the intro.
With a mouthful of toothpaste, I just nodded at her.
She had a round face but wasn’t heavy. Her floral dress and carefully done makeup showed she’d made an effort.
“Synthia, this is Elaine Hart. See what I mean about her perfect skin?” Chloe asked while hand–washing clothes.
When our eyes met, I caught Synthia’s insecurity, though she tried to hide it. “Well sure, she’s young. My skin was just as nice at her age.”
Chloe pursed her lips. Synthia rolled her eyes. Their little power play was like watching a sitcom.
As I finished brushing, Synthia probed, “Ms. Hart, visiting family? Or just here for vacation?”
“Vacation,” I said, rinsing my toothbrush holder.
“Come alone? No boyfriend?” Synthia’s question made me laugh.
“Single.” My answer visibly darkened her mood.
*Ashton’s taken a shine to her – asked me to play matchmaker. Don’t they make a cute pair, Synthia?” Chloe jumped in supportively.
Synthia’s lips twitched before she spat, “He’s just a toad. Even if a toad wants a swan, the swan has to want him back.”
Her jealousy made her accidentally compliment me as the swan.
Chloe glanced my way. “Elaine, didn’t you say you dreamed about marrying Ashton?”
“Yes…”
Synthia froze, her look turning hostile. “Ms. Hart, let me be crystal clear. Ashton’s mine. Back off.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Have you two hooked up?”
Synthia blushed, reminding me of Chloe’s story about Ashton throwing her out.
“So you’re not dating, not married, haven’t even kissed. Then what happens between him and me isn’t
your business, right?” I shot back blunt/yy
Synthia stood there speechless, glared at both of us, and stormed off.
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“Never seen someone with so little self–respect. Embarrassing for all women,” Chloe chuckled, wringing out laundry.
“Let me help, Mrs. Sutton.”
The clothes hung on a thin steel wire in the yard. I hadn’t noticed before, but Ashton’s green vest was among them.
My mind flashed to him wearing it, muscles flexing as he washed his hair. My cheeks got hot for no
reason.
I didn’t see Ashton that day or the next. Chloe said he’d come back and left again. Felt like he was avoiding me. Had my rejection bruised his ego?
But why should I care?
I didn’t dwell on it. Three days later, I’d settled into valley life. The afternoon street markets were my favorite.
Whether I needed anything or not, I’d always take a walk, sometimes picking up fruit or veggies.
Today, the watermelons looked good, so I bought one. But heading home, I suddenly slipped on something.
My ankle twisted painfully as I started to fall. Then out of nowhere, strong arms caught me around the
I
waist.
Looking up, I found myself staring into Ashton’s chiseled face. Like something out of a movie, he’d not only caught me but also saved the watermelon from hitting the ground.
Once I was steady, he let go. But the second I tried to put weight on my foot, pain shot through my ankle. I grabbed his arm instinctively. “Ow…”
His eyes followed mine down to my ankle, already red and swelling. “Sprained?”
Ashton stood so close I could feel his body heat. His deep voice had this way of making my insides flutter.
I just nodded. Without a word, he put the watermelon back in my hands and scooped me up in one
smooth motion.
In ten years with Logan, he’d never carried me like this. The feeling of Ashton’s strong arms around me sent my heart racing, and I felt that familiar nervous sweat on my nose – my tell–tale sign of being flustered.
I could hear the neighbors whispering. In a small town like this, a man carrying a woman was quite the spectacle.
But Ashton didn’t seem to care. He walked straight into the courtyard, cool as could be. There was Synthia, clutching a spatula, giving me the death glare.
“Well, well, carrying her home now? You two are moving fast,” Chloe teased with a knowing smile.
“Twisted ankle,” Ashton said simply, setting me down carefully on a courtyard bench. Then he knelt, slipped off my shoe, and took my foot in his hands.
His cool touch sent shivers up my spine, and my toes curled automatically.
“Stay still,” he ordered, pressing gently on the swollen spot.
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“That hurts…” I flinched.
He kept working, testing different spots. “Here?”
I shook my head. After a few more checks, he said, “Just a sprain. No broken bones.”
“How can you tell?” I asked, skeptical.
Ashton gave me a sideways look, but Chloe jumped in: “He was military. Knows his stuff.”
Since when did military service make you an expert at everything? I wondered.
Ashton stood up. “Don’t move. Getting some liniment.”
As he walked away, his tall frame filled out that black T–shirt and navy work pants like some action
hero.
“What’d you slip on?” Chloe asked, pulling me back to reality.
I gestured vaguely. “Something on the ground. Wasn’t looking.”
“Where exactly?”
“Just past Synthia’s place.” Chloe headed straight for the door to check it out.
Ashton came back with a small bottle. He knelt again, lifting my foot onto his knee. I tried to stop him: “I can do it myself.”
He gave me this no–nonsense look. “You need the right pressure. Can’t do that alone.”
Before I could argue more, he’d poured the oil in his palm, warmed it between his hands, and started working on my swollen ankle. It hurt but felt good too, with this weird tingle wherever his fingers moved.
