Page 5 of Save Me
“Don’t play dumb with me. The woman with the kid, the one from the beach?”
I knew exactly who he was asking about, but truthfully, I don’t necessarily want to get into it with him. He’s having this amazing run of good luck in the romance department, where I’ve had shit. I’m afraid my bad luck might rub off on him. “I haven’t gotten around to it yet, but I’ll see if I can talk to the EMT who responded. They may have gotten some information.”
Ash blows out a loud breath. “You are so full of shit. I’m surprised you didn’t ask them before we left.”
“Somebody decided I’m cooking this week, and if I don’t have dinner ready tonight at a decent hour, then I’ll have all of you up my ass.”
“That would hurt, a lot,” he laughs, interrupting me.
“You know what I mean.” I roll my eyes as I check my blind spot and jockey to park the van we use when we grocery shop for the station. “It’s better for me to get everything situated, and then ask questions after I’m done. I’ve never seen so many full-grown men have a meltdown if they don’t have anything to eat.”
“We’re growing.”
“A fuckin’ gut.” I reach over, smacking Ash’s stomach with the back of my hand. “That’s what love does to you—makes ya soft.”
“But at least it can make you hard too,” he laughs like a teenager.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Is this what happens when you get some on a regular basis?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. But maybe you shouldn’t be taking yourself so seriously. Life is about the little things, man. You need to laugh, have fun, and love. Not only someone else, but yourself too. Having Emma in my life has taught me a lot, andif I don’t take things as seriously as I once did, then so be it. I’m happy.”
I watch him grab a grocery cart as I grab mine. There’s a spring in his step, a twinkle in his eye, and a relaxed way he carries himself that wasn’t there a year ago. Ash has definitely gotten this part of his life figured out, and more than anything, I want to get it figured out too. Most of my siblings and plenty of the people in my age group have marriages, families, at least a fucking dog. I don’t have any of that, and it’s a damn lonely life to live.
The problem is, no one around here has struck me as intriguing. At least not until I met the woman on the beach. When I close my eyes, I can still make out what color hers are. Then there are the questions. Why isn’t there a father? Why is no one helping her and taking care of the mother and daughter? Do they need someone to help them? I could do it all, but first I have to find out her name, and to do that, I have to do a little digging.
“Are you happy?” he asks me, his voice serious.
Our job is dangerous, and it puts a lot of men in precarious situations with their mental health. I can tell he’s asking because he’s worried.
“I’m not, but it has nothing to do with our job,” I’m quick to explain. “I think I’m ready to share my life, but I don’t know how to get started. I don’t know what’s out there for me.”
“There’s only one way to find out, my man. You’ve got to put yourself out there. Let the ladies see what’s on the market.”
That doesn’t sound appealing to me at all, and I’m sure he can tell by the look on my face.
“Wait, is there a particular lady? The chick from the beach?” He smacks his hands together. “I knew you were interested.”
“She’s a single mom.”
He throws his head back. “Oh my God, just like I was a single dad. You know better than anyone what she’s facing. Man upand figure out who she is. Ask her out, wine and dine her and her daughter, get married, have more kids, and get a fucking smile on your damn face.”
A chuckle breaks through my irritation, reverberating in my chest. “Is it really that easy?”
“Yeah,” Ash nods. “You just have to open yourself up to the universe and let it in.”
As we turn the corner in the grocery, I repeat those words in my head, adding my own changes.
Well, universe, I’m opening myself up. I’m ready to let it all in. Whatcha got for me?
CHAPTER FOUR
AMY
“More sprinkles!”
I bite my tongue as Rosa pours even more sprinkles onto the tops of the hot sugar cookies. When she’s finished, I slowly pry her small, sticky hand off the bottle. “I think that’s enough sprinkles.”
She looks at me, her blue eyes so much like her father’s. They’re serious, her brows drawn together. “Mom, there can never be enough sprinkles.”
