He gives me one last squeeze and sets me back down on my feet. Pulling back, I see a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Liar,” he mutters through his smirk.
“Come on, big guy,” Autumn says, stepping forward and clapping Roth on the shoulder. “Miss Josephine awaits.”
Roth lets out a sigh that can only be described as long-suffering and turns to me. “The owner of the B&B appears to be under the mistaken impression that Autumn and I are married. Her behavior to that end is . . . unnerving.”
I grin at the sight of his discomfort. It takes a lot to shake him, so it makes something warm bloom inside me at the thought of tiny Miss Josephine, the little old lady with the tiny poodle, setting him so off balance. A million scenarios run through my mind of things she could have done. All of them are hilarious.
“Ah, Miss Josephine,” I say, unable to resist. “I think she might be just a tad—” I hold my fingers half an inch apart “—old-fashioned.”
Autumn laughs. “She keeps calling me Mrs. Turner. It’s awesome. Roth keeps looking like he’s trying to conjure up a hole in the floor to hide in through sheer force of will.” I watch as she hops up into the passenger seat and a zing of sadness rips through me at the thought of them leaving.
“If anyone could do it,” I say. “It would be Roth.”
Roth just shakes his head and sighs at Autumn’s laughter before turning to Ash and holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ash,” he says, and waits patiently as a riot of emotions parade across Ash’s face as he tries to decide if Roth is for real. He looks like a robot when he reaches out and shakes Roth’s hand, but then Roth steps closer and whispers something in Ash’s ear. Whatever he said, it was too quiet for me to hear, but it made Ash’s eyes widen a little as Roth steps away. They share a moment of that weird thing guys do when they’re silently trying to figure out which one of them is top dog. Then Roth silently turns away, and Ash looks down at his hand once Roth has released it, staring at it like it betrayed him somehow.
As he steps back toward the car, I grab Roth in one last hug. “You take care of yourself, okay?” I say, and then lean forward to whisper in his ear. “What did you say to him?”
“I’ll do that,” Roth says loud enough for the others to hear, and then whispers in my ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I pull back. “You’re evil.” He just smiles at me, and doesn’t blink.
I hate when he does that. But I can’t help but laugh.
“You’ve got everything?” I ask him, and he nods.
“I have enough ramen to keep my charges fed in the event of a nuclear holocaust. If I need anything else, I don’t know what it is.”
I smile, but it’s kind of true. We found so much ramen in my mother’s pantry, it was ridiculous. They’d taken it back to the B&B in the meantime, but once it was packed in the car, it would be stacked up in the truck’s backseat so high it would nearly block the back window. Between that and all the other stuff I’ve foisted off on him, Roth should be set through the rest of his tenure as an RA. Even if he decides to go for his PhD.
The image of him eating never-ending bowls of ramen while he glares at his homework springs fully-formed into my mind, and I giggle out loud before I can stop myself. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound but it’s too late. I feel my legs sway a little bit under me, and try to right myself without being too obvious about it, but by the looks the others are giving me, I’m failing pretty hard.
I guess the wine is hitting me harder than I thought.
***
Our goodbyes are brief after that, and Ash and I stand at the edge of the driveway together, Bruiser sniffing at the edge of the grass by our sides, watching as Roth’s truck disappears into the night before turning and heading toward the house.
“Ah crap,” I mutter, swaying a little as we climb the porch steps, Bruiser happily trotting along after us until Ash nudges him and tells him to go lay down. I sway directly into Ash’s side and settle there, even though I can feel my face begin to heat. Or maybe that’s just the warmth coming through his clothing. It’s nice. I press closer and murmur, “I forgot to pay you,” and hope that he isn’t going to be too pissed.
His arm wraps around my back, steadying me. I was swaying a little more than I thought, and I tilt my head back to look up at Ash. He’s looking down at me and he’s got this little furrow digging between his brows. Cute.
“What?” he asks, and helps me forward, though the front door. I hadn’t even realized he’d unlocked it. When did I give him my key?
I make it over the threshold gracefully enough, but then my leg glances against a stack of empty boxes we’d put by the door, and they all go tumbling down.
“Oops.” I take a tentative step back from the mess. “Why are those still in here? Shouldn’t we have tossed them?”
“We were gonna use them in the campfire, remember?” Ash says and kicks one of the boxes out of the way so the path is clear again. “Save us a trip to the dump.”
“Oh, yeah. But no. Right.” What was I talking about again? Ugh, stupid Autumn with her stupid wine. It always hits me so much harder than anything else. I think hard for a second, leaning against the wall to steady myself as I try to remember what I was talking about. Stupid wine. My thoughts are slipping away from me like the beach sand through my fingers. “What was I . . .h, yeah!” I wag a finger at Ash. “Money.” That was it. I look around the room, but it’s too dark. “Where’s my checkbook?” I know it’s here somewhere. It has to be. I’m halfway to the little table we put by the front door when I hear Ash laugh and feel his hand close around my upper arm, tugging me back.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, and even in the darkness I can see his smile. I really, really like his smile. “Come on—” he tugs at my arm again “—let’s get you to bed.”
The journey through the kitchen feels both epically long and like a sudden whirlwind all at once, and before I know what’s happening I’m tumbling down onto my mattress, laughing so hard that I have tears in my eyes.
“Stupid wine.” I giggle, and reach up to wipe the moisture from my face. Ash is just looking down at me in the darkness, shaking his head but I can still see his smile. “Seriously, though. It’s been a month.” The words are coming out of my mouth, but I’ve half-forgotten what I’m talking about. “Your pay!” I blurt out after a moment, feeling victorious that I’ve managed to remember. “I need to pay you.”
I struggle like an upside-down turtle for a moment, before getting my bearings enough to roll over and make a grab for my purse. It’s by the side of the mattress, but there’s only the tiniest amount of light coming in through the kitchen windows, so the quest for my checkbook has been upgraded from difficult to mission-freaking-impossible.
After a couple of minutes or hours or however long it takes, I give up and shove my purse to the side. “I’m such a shitty boss. I’ll pay you tomorrow,” I say, flopping back down on the mattress. Reaching up, I rub the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and try to make my thoughts make sense. Seriously, what was in that wine? I’m starting to suspect it was closer to moonshine than actual vino.
When I pull my hands down and open my eyes again, my entire body kind of jerks. Jesus, I think, trying to get my heart rate back down to normal. I forgot Ash was even here. He’s standing so still, and he hasn’t said a word.
“I’m sorry,” I say again as I turn over and reach for my pillow, because Ash definitely deserves a boss that will actually pay him when they’re supposed to. It’s not his fault that I’m so bad at this. “I really am. I’m a terrible boss. I’m lucky you haven’t already quit.” I face-plant into the softness of the pillow. Mmmm. Nice. “I couldn’t do this without you.”