Page 28 of The Rest is History

“Reece got divorced a few months ago,” I say after a moment. “He used to work for his father as an accountant. His father fired him over text earlier today because he chose to come here. He asked me what I thought about him staying in Iowa. Finding some work.”

“Well, what do you think about that?”

“I don’t know. He was never for the glitzy life his father lived. He always loved small, quiet places.”

“I know it’s not much but if he decides to stay, and doesn’t mind some manual labor, he could come and work at the woodlot. We have space for one more. I could teach him.”

I’m shaking my head even before Sawyer has finished his sentence. “Sawyer, we can’t let him into our lives like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—because . . .” I’m not sure what to say.

He grins. “Because he might steal you away from me? Because I might start getting jealous and suspicious anytime he’s around? Because you might fall in love with him all over again?”

“Yes,” I admit after a while. Because, of course, that’s what it is.

“Everything that needs to happen will happen, Asher. Don’t worry about me. I learned early in life to live in the moment and enjoy it for what it is without the fears of the past or the future. If Reece wants to stay in Iowa and start a new life, and you’re okay with that, then I’ll help him wherever I can. We’ll help him wherever we can. You can do that for your childhood friend, can't you? Help him?”

I nod slowly. “I guess so.”

Our conversation drifts off after that. Sawyer shifts, turning so his back is pressed to my chest. We go to sleep like an old married couple.

It’s been a long day. We’ll fuck tomorrow night.

Chapter 12

Sawyer

Our morning routine hasn’t changed since we got married. I rise at four o’clock – an old habit from before I became a teenager. Also, the hot water runs out fast, so I try to get into the shower early enough for it to reheat by six o’clock, when Asher wakes up. We have coffee together at six-fifteen. My job is only ten minutes away from home, so I leave home at around six-thirty.

Asher’s high school is ten minutes in the opposite direction.

He meets me downstairs for coffee promptly at six-fifteen. “You look handsome,” I tell him, reaching up to turn his LINKSFIELD EAGLES cap backwards. I press a kiss to his Adam’s apple, inhaling our pine-scented soap. “When are you gonna fuck me with nothing but this cap on your head?” I purr against his skin.

He kisses my cheekbone and turns his cap back around. When I pout, he laughs. “The kids tease me when I wear it backwards. They say I’ve got rizz.”

I laugh. “You do have rizz. You’ve got serious game, baby. Such a hot coach.”

He shakes his head, smiling, and his face is pink. Asher really doesn’t know how handsome he is. I hand him his coffee and we take it to the living room. He stands at the window and I take the armchair where Reece sat last night.

“Are we okay?” he asks. I don’t like that he asks such an important question with such a great distance between us.

I take a sip of my coffee, set it on the side table, and go to him. He sips his coffee, watching me with so much worry in his eyes. “I’m okay, if you’re asking about me,” I say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Then we’re okay.”

“You don’t have to help him. I’m sure he’ll find his way.”

“Do you really want to send him on his way like that?”

“I want him to be okay, but not at the cost of disrupting our lives.”

“Okay. I’ll leave it with you. If you think he could do with our help, then send him to the company office.”

It takes three days for Asher to offer Reece our help. Another week for Reece to accept.

---