Page 56 of Windlass (Seal Cove #3)

“Okay, so she called you out on ghosting her, you had a panic attack, and in the middle of that panic attack you almost hooked up with her,” Stevie summarized. Her stomach ached with the horror of imagining Angie tilting her face toward Lana.

“Yeah,” said Angie in a muted voice.

“I don’t love it.”

Angie flinched at Stevie’s words.

“But it’s not like you intentionally sought her out.

You had a trauma reaction. Don’t get me wrong, I kinda want to kill her, and I might be angry at you, I’m not sure yet, but that’s exactly what you asked me to help you work on.

I would be an asshole to break things off with you because you slipped up, especially since nothing happened. ”

Keep your cool she told herself. She could lose it later with Morgan now that she could talk to Morgan about this.

“Stevie, you can’t trust me. I can’t trust myself .” The self-hatred in Angie’s voice cut Stevie to the quick.

“I do trust you.” Stevie took a shaky breath. “I trust that you’re trying.”

Angie scoffed.

“I’m not saying I’d be cool if you cheated on me. I would not be cool. I would be the opposite of cool. She should have respected you when you said you were done, though, and she didn’t, which is what set you off.”

“You don’t need to absolve me of blame.”

“I’m not. I’m saying you’re not totally at fault for this.”

“And if I hadn’t been too gross for her?”

Stevie considered the scenario, even queasier. “I’d be upset, obviously. Heartbroken, devastated, inconsolable. But it didn’t happen. You don’t know if you would have stopped it.”

“I—”

“Also, you’re acting like these aren’t things I know about you. I mean, I didn’t know about this situation, but I know how you get when you’re feeling . . . stuff.”

“The Stuff,” Angie agreed, putting capital letter energy into the S despite her tremulous lower lip. Stevie longed to press her thumb into that embodiment of sadness and still it. She also longed to mop hell’s basement with Lana’s corpse so there was some inner turmoil to solve first.

“I’ll probably need a bit to digest this fully, I won’t lie.” Stevie glanced at the sky where distant thunderheads built and tumbled. “It isn’t fun to think about. I know it isn’t fun for you to think about either. I think as long as you’re trying to find better ways to deal with PTSD—”

“PTSD sounds like a bit much—”

“It’s PTSD, Angela. First step toward solving a problem is acknowledging it so if you could get to that step it’d be great.” She softened the sentence with a half smile. “I’ve told you I got some counseling in college, right?”

“No.” Angie turned to look at her fully, eyebrows slightly raised.

“It was helpful. You should try it.”

Angie’s face shuttered. “Therapy’s expensive.”

“It’s your life,” said Stevie. “It might be worth a little investment.”

Angie burst into tears.

Stevie pulled her into her arms as best she could while perched on a bucket and let Angie sob until she worried Angie might perish from asphyxiation.

“Breathe, girl.” Stevie rubbed her back.

Angie had buried her face between Stevie’s thighs, and the scoop neck of the T-shirt revealed the knobs of her spine as her body shook itself apart.

They looked achingly vulnerable. Stevie pressed her palm gently over them as if that could keep Angie safe from whatever was eating her up inside.

Angie’s breathing gradually slowed, interrupted by hiccups. At last she sat up, wiping her face on her shirt.

“Lana was wrong. You’re still gorgeous.” Stevie pulled a wadded-up piece of paper towel out of her own pocket. “Haven’t used it. I don’t think.”

Angie blew her nose with a grimace. “I am so gross.”

“I’ve seen grosser.”

“You don’t have to make me feel better about being a snot monster.”

“Have you seen a horse with a sinus infection?”

A choking laugh escaped from behind the paper towel. Angie finished cleaning herself up and lifted her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks to meet Stevie’s waiting gaze.

“Please don’t show me a picture.”

“Too late. Already ordered it printed on a T-shirt for you.”

“Stevie . . .” Angie trailed off, biting her lip.

“You know you can tell me stuff, right? Even Stuff trademark?” Was there something worse than Lana?

Her heart stuttered, but recovered. She trusted Angie.

Even with what Angie had just told her, she trusted her.

Angie would have told her if something else had happened.

And if she hadn’t, she would tell Stevie now, and they’d figure it out.

They were a they , now. A we. An us. A family.

“I might lose the house.”

“ What ?” That wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all. “Our house?”

A sniffle. A nod.

“Could you, um, elaborate a bit?”

A house was a house. Yes, Stevie loved their house, but there were other houses. They could make it work. The horses would be tricky, but Ivy knew other stables.

“I can’t afford to fix the roof.”

“I wondered about that.” Stevie reached for Angie’s hand, but Angie shook her head, showing the makeshift tissue clenched inside it.

“I’ve maxed out my cards trying to cover the rest of the bills. I hadn’t realized what Lilian and Morgan moving out would do. I didn’t charge them a lot of rent, but it covered the bills. Now—”

“Stop.” Stevie got off her bucket and crouched on the ground in front of Angie. The slanting evening sun warmed her lower back. “Just stop for a second.”

Angie stopped, though with a confused tilt to her mouth.

“This is not something you should be dealing with yourself—”

“It’s my responsibility—”

“I live here too, and you criminally undercharge me rent. You also don’t charge me board for my horse, and I know for a fact you undercharge Ivy, who pays you more than that teeny-weeny number because she’s good people.

It’s a huge house, and it’s old. So is the barn.

You’ve been too good to your friends, which makes you an asshole. ”

“How does that—”

Stevie held up five fingers. “Reason number one: Your friends care about you and don’t want you to be stressed.

Reason number two: You’re stressed because you were charging us all way too little, which makes us look like assholes, and nobody likes to be made to look like an asshole.

Reason three: You should have told me sooner so I could have helped sooner, though I should have brought this up, which makes me an asshole too, I guess.

Reason four: Um, give me a second. Yeah.

We like hanging out here. You not charging us could take that away from us.

Rude. And last and not least, reason number five: you think you have to do everything yourself because you’re afraid to depend on anyone else, which makes you a cowardly chickenshit because I am literally begging you to lean on me a little more. ”

Angie’s mouth gaped open.

Stevie waved her hand with its five outspread fingers in front of that poleaxed expression. “I rest my case.”

“How did you know I’m afraid to depend on anyone else?” Angie asked.

“That’s the question you’re asking? Not, ‘Wow, Stevie, okay, please tell me how you are willing to help me since you are clearly the hero I’ve been waiting my whole life for—’”

The light smack on her arm told her Angie was coming out of her shock.

“Really. How did you know?”

Stevie considered Angie. For a woman she knew to be quite intelligent, it was fascinating how blind she could be to her own reality.

“Because I know you . You almost killed me when I helped with the roof. You hate when people do things for you even though you also love it. You don’t think you deserve anything good, because if you did, then you might get used to it, which would make it harder when it falls apart.

Am I off base? Can I still get to third base?

Second? I’ll settle for first if I have to, but there’s something very, very good we both deserve if you let me make a home run. ”

“If you ever make another baseball analogy about sex with me, I will never have sex with you again.”

“Noted.” Stevie grinned. “Will you go over the bills with me?”

Angie hesitated as Stevie had suspected she would.

“You own the house. It is your responsibility. But I owe you several years of back rent increases that I would love to pay now.”

“It’s way more than that, Stevie. They quoted $25,000 for a new roof because it’s got those gables and that steep part. When I asked about a patch, they warned me the rest could go soon, too, and there was already some structural damage that would get worse—”

“And the other bills?”

“I’m behind on a few, but utilities are paid up. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Stevie rubbed the sides of Angie’s thighs to try to calm her.

“Also, I don’t like that you know me this well!”

Calming wasn’t working, clearly. Stevie stared into Angie’s suddenly furious eyes and wondered how she’d ever gone a day in her life without them.

“Sucks to be perceived.”

“It does .” Angie laughed, the anger breaking almost as quickly as it had surged. “Don’t think I don’t see you, Ward.”

“I believe you’ve seen everything there is to see as your sketchbook can prove.” Stevie winked because she was incorrigible. “Tell me something. Something about me you don’t think I want you to know.”

Angie chewed her lip hard, mulling over the question.

“You’re funny because you’re a conflict-avoidant baby.You worry no one takes seriously, which makes you tell more jokes, which becomes a cycle that ends with you feeling small and insecure and overlooked. You don’t want to be seen either.”

Stevie flinched. “I guess I asked for that.”

“You did.” Angie tucked a strand of Stevie’s hair behind her ear with an affectionate smile. “Very foolishly.”

“Please let me help pay for the roof.”

“I’ll consider it on one condition,” Angie said.

“Can it be a sexy condition?”

“You’re trying to cheer me up, which is adorable, but I’m the asshole here.

” Angie’s mouth scrunched the way it did when she was being too hard on herself.

“You can help me figure out the roof and the rest of the bills if you really want to inflict that on yourself. But you have to promise you won’t put yourself into trouble to help me out. ”

Stevie held up a pinky. “I pinky swear I won’t ruin my good credit in case one of us needs to apply for a loan or a new place to live. Call me Plan B.”

“Because you shrivel sperm?”

“Yes, Angie, because I shrivel sperm.” Stevie gently pried Angie’s thighs apart and wiggled closer so she could wrap her arms around Angie’s waist and nestle into her cleavage. To Angie’s breasts, she murmured, “Please let me care for you. I want to. It makes me happy.”

Angie’s chin settled on the crown of Stevie’s head as Angie’s arms wrapped around her in return.

“Okay,” said Angie. “I’ll try.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I will bite you in the head.” Angie laughed despite her threat, and while she might have been right in her assessment of Stevie’s use of humor, in this instance she wanted to hear that sound more than anything. Stevie kissed the skin beneath her lips and tasted Angie’s stress in the salt.

“Stevie?”

Stevie looked up somewhat unwillingly. “Yeah?”

“There’s something else I want to tell you, but I’m not ready to say it because I don’t want to scare myself away, but I need you to know that I want to say it and have wanted to say it for a long time, but I’m a cowardly chickenshit who can’t handle strong emotions.”

Stevie chased the run-on sentence through her head a few times to parse the meaning, to double-check her interpretation, and triple-check it in case she exploded with joy only to have to assemble her bits and pieces back together in shame.

Slowly, she straightened enough to look Angie directly in the eyes, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of gritty concrete on her knees. Unshed tears glistened over those hazel pools. She kissed each eyelid, then kissed the single tear that fell from those long black lashes.

Should she wait? Give Angie more time? Agreeing to openly date had already been a huge leap, and that had happened only the previous night. Stevie could be patient a little while longer.

Looking into Angie’s face, however, with its hidden hurts and perfect spirit, she couldn’t bear the thought of swallowing those words another time.

She could be patient, but there were some things Angie needed to hear as often as Stevie could find breath to say them so that someday she might believe herself worthy of it.

“If there was something I wanted to say, too, but haven’t because I don’t want to scare you off, would you mind if I said it or would you rather I wait? It’s not like it’s news. Everyone already knows. But I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you. It’s a character flaw.”

A sob shook Angie’s shoulders. Just one before she regained her composure.

“You can say it,” she said in a whisper.

“You sure?” Stevie asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Cool.” Stevie’s heart pounded ferociously. “I love you too, Angela Rhodes.”

Angie’s smile really was the single most brilliant thing in the universe. Stevie felt corny thinking it, but decided she liked corn, and she liked Angie and she didn’t give a shit. Angie loved her. Angela Rhodes loved her.

“Now that we’ve established that, do you want me to make you something to eat?” she asked, not wanting to overwhelm Angie by loitering in emotion’s doorway. The lightness in her chest was too much to contain. “Mac and cheese?”

“You wish.” Angie leaned forward, and Stevie met her halfway. The kiss Angie gave her was slow and deep and tasted a bit like tears.

It was perfect.