For Better or Hearse

Chapter Thirty-Six

I t’s a night of lasts. Last sunset. Last mai tai. Last kiss.

When they get back to the hotel, Nathaniel all but bullies her into climbing into bed and resting. His will, not to mention that stern, furrowed brow of his, is too strong for Ash to fight, especially in her weakened state. After a hot shower and a weepy telephone call with Tessie where she tells her best friend about her close call on the island, it’s time for the luau.

Wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Ash stares at herself in the mirror. Instead of the myriad of worries and anxiety carousing through her brain, all she can think is:

Nathaniel .

A hum that warms her blood.

No one has cared about her like that in a long time. Sure, she was improbably close to lapsing into a coma and dying, and he is a doctor, but his Hippocratic oath didn’t cause the tremor in his voice. The fear in his eyes.

He cares about her.

For ten days, she’s been trying to ward it off. Now, she doesn’t want anything else.

Suddenly, she craves the sight of him.

Oh god. It’s madness.

Ash slips on her sandals, pulls on a simple black dress. Gold jewelry. Black cat eye. Red lipstick. She checks her blood sugar (fine, thank fuck). Then grabs her purse, her room key, then walks out the door.

The sight of Nathaniel brings a smile to her face .

He’s leaning back against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, waiting for her.

So handsome it makes her heart stall.

He pushes off the wall and exhales, attention locked to her face.

“You’re staring,” she says.

His eyes sharpen. “You’re beautiful.”

She blushes. Her heart takes off at a sprint.

“You okay?” he asks. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, using the move to check the temperature of her skin.

“I’m more than okay.” She narrows her eyes at him. “But if you ask me that again, you won’t be.”

“Threats before dinner,” he says dryly. But there’s heat in his gaze. “I see you’re just fine.”

He offers her his arm, and, heart squeezing, she takes it. Together, they walk to the elevator.

It’s silent as they ride down. A kind of intense manic energy radiates between them. Like when they first met. Except instead of ripping his face off, all Ash wants to do is tear off his clothes. Say everything that’s been bubbling inside her for so long now.

But she waits too long. The elevator doors slide open.

Nathaniel, hand on the small of her back, guides her through the lobby out to the beach.

The farewell luau dinner is a stunner. Tiki torches line the entrance. An elegant long table sits in the center of the space, decorated with tropical flowers and pitchers of rum punch and iced tea. Hula dancers and a small band warm up for the evening. In one corner is a bar, where a bartender shakes up cocktails. In the other is a plush black couch and a firepit, where the Whitfords hold court.

Delaney hops up, eyes wide. “Oh my God! We were so scared.” She throws her arms around Ash, shaking. “We thought you were swept out to sea.”

“Not quite,” Ash says as Delaney slips a floral lei over her head .

“Gotta get you on the podcast,” Tater says. “I’m thinking next season…coconuts.”

“I don’t fucking think so,” Nathaniel snaps, that jaw of his grinding his molars into fine dust.

She tilts her face up to him, placing a hand on his chest. Instantly, he relaxes. Covers her hand with his.

She blushes, noticing Augustus watching them with a smile.

“You’re just in time for sunset,” Claire says, saving her.

They have champagne on the beach while Nathaniel grudgingly recounts their time on the island. Even when he’s talking to family, he doesn’t let go of her. As Tate howls over Ash wearing his Big Johnson T-shirt, a hula dancer joins them. She’s beautiful, with thick black hair, big brown eyes and a basket of orchids in her hands.

She gathers the women. “Don’t forget a flower for your hair, ladies.” Her soft lilt of a voice floats in the evening air. “If you wear it on the left, it means you’re taken or unavailable; wear it on the right and you are looking for love.”

Delaney and Claire gasp as they peer into the basket. Delaney selects a white orchid, Claire a yellow. Ash is next.

Hesitantly, she reaches into the basket and chooses a dark purple blossom. She can feel Nathaniel’s heated gaze on her as she brings the flower to her ear.

Her right ear.

She assumes nothing. Keeps her expression shuttered and unexpectant. Even as her heart feels like a lead weight in her chest.

“Wait.” Nathaniel’s voice, low and rough, rings out.

Stunned speechless, she freezes.

He strides toward her, and blue eyes darkening, looks down at her. “You have it in the wrong spot.”

He plucks the flower from her right ear. His big hands deftly affix it behind her left.

Taken .

Flushing, she tips her head back to look at him, arches a brow. “Heavy on the there are people around ,” she warns.

“I don’t care.” He runs a finger across her cheekbone. “Not anymore. Not when it comes to you.”

She moistens her lips, opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

His words make her heart stutter. So does the intention in his eyes. Because there’s more. So much more they both need to say.

Only dinner’s ready. At the sound of the drums, they take their seats and are immediately presented with a feast. Chicken long rice, poke, salmon, roast pig. The food is delicious. The conversation a mix of nostalgia and camaraderie. It’s not the awkward family dinner it was when they arrived. Even Don’s phone is nonexistent.

After their meal, the luau begins. The music is an up-tempo beat, competing with the slow crash of the waves on the shore. Ash wills herself to concentrate on the show, but her mind is elsewhere.

It’s hard to remember why she’s on this trip. She’s here for Augustus, to be a source of support. And yet she found her own. In Nathaniel.

And it fucking figures. It figures that only Nathaniel Whitford would affect her like this. Irritatingly irresistible.

As the last plate is cleared and dessert plates and utensils are swiftly set in front of them, Augustus rises. “All right, you know the drill,” he begins.

Nathaniel laces his fingers through hers. “Last dinner means…”

“A Grandpops speech,” Delaney pipes in.

Augustus laughs, his eyes twinkling. “It certainly wouldn’t be the end of the trip without one. You love these, don’t you, Don?”

Don chuckles, his response more good-natured than she’s seen from him.

Augustus sobers. “I’m happy tonight. Do you know why I’m happy? Because I have you here with me. My family. Which brings me to something I’m afraid I have to tell you.”

Nathaniel eyes her, anxious .

“I’ve decided to stop treatment.”

Claire covers her mouth. Even Don blinks silently, stunned. He reaches over and takes his wife’s hand.

Ash sits frozen. Sucker punched. She wants to weep, to scream. But it’s Augustus’s choice. It’s her job. All she can do is support him. Even if she’s not ready, he is.

She gives him a wobbly but encouraging smile.

“I have less than six months until I die of brain cancer. Before I move into the unrefined stage of forgetting your names and spilling food on myself, I want to be sure you’re okay. Because I am. I’ve had a good life. The goal of this trip was to make sure you had everything you needed before I go.” He smiles around the group, his tender eyes stopping on Ash, then Nathaniel. “I hope a connection has been made between all of you that lasts longer than I do.”

Silver in his eyes, Nathaniel pulls her hand into his lap. She squeezes back.

Tate slings his arm around Delaney, who rests her head on his shoulder.

Augustus holds up a hand. “But tonight is not about me. It’s about Claire.” He finds his daughter, smiles warmly. “Honey, I have done many things wrong in life. I was absent, I was cruel, I was unavailable.”

“Dad.” Claire shakes her head. Tears stream down her face.

“I knew after a month that I loved your mother, but it took thirty years to realize I hurt you.” His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry, Claire Bear. I’ve missed many of your birthdays. And I will miss more. But not tonight.”

Fighting back tears, Ash twists in her seat and gives a nod to the server.

In come birthday cakes. All the birthday cakes. Small and squat, towering and behemoth. Vanilla, chocolate, funfetti, every flavor imaginable. Bavarian cream, fondant, royal icing. Some are decorated with marzipan roses, some have real flowers, some look like a child’s birthday cake, some resemble an elegant wedding cake .

Claire gasps as they’re set on the table. Ash sees it in her eyes. Awe. Joy. It’s obvious. It’s all she’s ever wanted. It’s just cake, and yet, it means so much more. What Augustus missed out on. What he’s making up for.

A hand on her shoulder. Warmth and comfort. Ash turns to Nathaniel.

“You two made her world tonight,” he says, his voice breaking.

“I’m glad,” she agrees, nodding.

The night goes on. Cakes are cut and devoured. More tears are shed. Even Don is teary-eyed. Every face is etched with pain, but also comfort. Words like I fucked up, but I’m sorry ; I’m fixing it go a long way.

As hugs are passed around and the group lingers, hesitant to break the spell of the night, Ash is hit by a sudden pang of emotion.

She sees. What could be. What she wants.

Throat tightening, she turns abruptly, to get away from the sight, to chase away the pressure in her chest. She walks briskly down the beach. The urge to burst into tears is suddenly overwhelming.

At the lip of the surf, she takes in the great, vast ocean. Feels the sand between her toes. The touch of warm night air.

She has all this back in LA. But what she doesn’t have? Nathaniel.

They’re going their separate ways in less than twenty-four hours. The thought is like a knife to the throat.

She’s sick of pretending. She wants to make what they have real. Make them real.

But could they? Where do they go from here? From this fantastical fantasy of a vacation? The real world? The real them?

They have been them.

He’s seen her. She’s seen him.

And he’s everything.

He saved her life out on that island. She trusted him to get her out of there safely. And that trust came easy. It’s a triumph, knowing she can trust someone again.

She closes her eyes, brings her hand to the flower in her hair.

Two weeks with Nathaniel has mattered more than two years with Jakob.

With him, she doesn’t have to be invincible. Even if he makes her feel like she is. He makes her feel safe. Secure. Happy. So damn happy.

She hasn’t had that in a long time.

At her back, Nathaniel’s warm, velvet voice. “Midnight swim?”

Her heart does a backflip. “On the contrary. Just contemplating flinging myself into the sea.”

“Don’t think it would take you.”

She spins. “Oh, no?”

With a firm shake of his head, he steps closer. Takes her hand. “No. Because you belong here. With me.”

She gives a wobbly smile. “Tonight was a really nice night.”

He draws her into his arms. Hums thoughtfully. “It was.”

On a sigh, she rests her head against his shoulder. “You knew about Augustus.”

He strokes her back, his big hand warm, comforting. “I did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No. It’s okay. I understand.” Guilt squeezes her chest. Augustus is allowed to have his secrets. And it’s admirable. Nathaniel holding them for him. He’s a better person than she is.

She straightens. Shudders out a shaky sigh. “It’s hard to believe that, one day, he won’t be here.”

“It is.” His throat works. A soft sheen to his pale-blue eyes. “But you’ll be there for him. And so will I. All of us will.” He sounds certain. Happy. About his family. Her chest expands at the notion.

Ash lays a hand on his muscled chest. “I like your family. Augustus the best, for sure.” She smiles. “But you’re a close second.”

He holds her tightly, his eyes blazing.

She’s caught in his orbit, mesmerized by his gorgeous face. The night wind whips her hair. But neither of them makes a move. The world pauses.

Ash moistens her lips. Just tell him. Tell him you…like him. Care for him. Are falling faster than the Hindenburg.

Only she doesn’t get that far.

One hand cupping her face, Nathaniel lowers his head. Kisses her.

Slow. Steady. Tremulous.

Ash’s knees go weak, and she grips the front of his shirt to hold herself up.

Pulling back, he touches the flower in her hair. “When I saw this,” he rasps, “I knew that I’d waited too long.”

Her breath hitches. “Too long for what?”

“To tell you what you mean to me.”

Emotion clogs her throat. “Nathaniel—”

“Tomorrow, that plane,” he whispers. “It’s not how I lose you.”

Her head spins. Her heart pounds against her sternum. “It’s not?”

“No.” A shudder of a breath shakes out of him. “I don’t want this to end, Ash.”

“You don’t?”

God. Clearly, her brain’s been taken over by a robot who can only ask breathless, inane questions.

He chuckles, presses his forehead to hers. “No. I don’t.”

For a moment, silence.

Fresh tears sting her eyes. Her heart feels too heavy for her body. Her mind works out the kinks, and suddenly, it seems so seamless. Maybe the coconut to the cranium cracked something loose. Sure, she almost died. But it’s more than that. It’s an ache. A bone-deep knowledge that death is always there. That risk is something to be leaped at. Because the end result in life is that time runs out. She has to live while she can. Love while she can.

Love. Nathaniel.

She does .

She loves him with all 206 bones in her body.

“Ash?” he asks, when the silence has gone on too long. His eyes are worried, begging. As if her answer has the power to undo him.

She gasps it out, opening that place inside herself that’s been closed off for so long. “I don’t want it to end either.”

“Thank fuck.” He grasps her arms, skims his hands down them. The grooves of his fingers indent in her flesh, muscle, like he’s terrified she’s already gone.

“But how?” Heart racing, she searches his eyes. “How do we do this?”

His face is intense, as if he’s been planning this. Resolve races through his voice. “I still have two weeks of leave.”

“What about Peru? The backpacking trip?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He cups her face. “The thought of not being with you makes me want to die.”

“So morbid,” she teases.

He chuckles but sobers quickly. “I’ll come back to LA,” he husks. “We’ll figure us out there.”

She thrills. Us . All her stupid emotions shaken and stirred. Real world. They go back to the real world and try this.

All she can do is nod. A hard stab of want, of hope, spears her through the stomach.

“Yes,” she says. She’s unhinged. In the best possible way. “Yes, yes, yes.”

A brilliant grin fills his face. “Monosyllabic sentences are very off brand for you, Bigfoot.”

She laughs. “Shut up.”

And then, expression heated, he’s stepping into her, pulling her against him, cradling her jaw as if they’re the only two people in existence. And for a long second, she wishes it could be like that.

Her and him, together. Fantastical.

End times.

His lips are hot and wet on hers. His hands beneath her ribs sliding up, over her heart like a secret to be captured. And it is. Because that lovely ache in her stomach is gone, as if she’s finally put a claim on what she wants.

“This is fucking insane,” she murmurs against his mouth. “What we’re doing.”

Nathaniel cups the back of her head and stares into her eyes. “I don’t care,” he says roughly. A grin tips his lips. “I want you, Ashabelle. I’m not running away from any of it. From any of you.”

Her name. Her full name rolling off Nathaniel’s lovely lips is too beautiful for words.

Ash grins back, slinging her arms around his neck and yanking him back in for a mind-blowing kiss.

She’s allowed to have happiness, and it looks like Nathaniel.

In every universe, it will look like him.