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“I’m too young.”
“And I’m old?”
She laughed. “You’re older than me. All your friends are married. Most of them have kids.”
“Yeah, well. I’m not like most of them. Up until a year ago, I hadn’t set foot in this town for years. I travelled a lot. Visited a lot of places. Met a lot of different people. Got to know a lot of different cultures. I lived out of a knapsack for years. That’s not the kind of life that leads to happy relationships.”
“But you’re back now.”
“I am.”
“And are you planning on staying single for the rest of your life?”
Nash scratched at the hair on his jaw. How in hell had she turned this around to be about him? Jesus. Less than five minutes ago, they were talking about Barrow, Alaska…wherever the hell that was.
“You realize this is the most we’ve talked all night.”
She flipped her foot and kicked up water. “I’d say this is the longest conversation we’ve had in days. And you’re trying to change the subject.”
She was good. Too damn good.
“I’ve got high standards.”
She snorted. Actually snorted. “If Jade Daniels is what you consider high standards, then you’re screwed.”
“Jade Daniels is a nice girl. She’s just not for me. This might sound cliché or maybe creepy. I don’t know. But my mom set the bar pretty damn high. I haven’t met anyone who comes close.”
“I get it,” she said, settling back. “She seems pretty awesome.”
“What about your mother?” he found himself asking, though he wasn’t sure why. From what little she’d shared, it didn’t sound like she was winning any Mother of the Year contests.
Honey looked away, her toes treading water. “She passed away a couple years ago.”
Shit. Nash felt like the biggest jerk for asking. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be. It
happens. We didn’t have the easiest of relationships, but there was some good.” A few moments of silence passed. “When I was young, maybe three years old. I have this memory of my mother sitting behind me, and I’m watching her in the mirror. We’re in my bedroom. There’s pink carnations on the wallpaper, and my bed is white with little pink pillows. She’s brushing my hair. Her touch is gentle because it feels like her fingertips are butterfly kisses on my cheek. She is so beautiful. Her smile is full and engaging. She’s full of hope.” Honey exhaled and shrugged. “Back then, she still believed in unicorns.”
Nash finished his beer. Snow had started to fall, big flakes that drifted down from the darkened sky. “Good that you can remember that.”
“The weird thing is, sometimes I don’t think it’s a real memory.” Her brow furrowed, and she paused. “Or maybe I don’t want to think of it as real because where we ended up was so far from that image that to know we had a chance makes me sad.”
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Nash found himself asking.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not gonna happen.”
He was confused. “What’s not gonna happen?”
“I’m not a stray cat that needs taking care of, so don’t feel sorry for me.”
Nash took a few moments to reply. He saw she was upset and hated that he’d somehow tapped into something painful. “Trust me, Honey. You’re the last person I’d feel sorry for because you’re one of the strongest people I know.” Something hit him in the chest, and he paused, watching her closely. “I just meant, do you have family close by? Is there anyone you’ll spend the holidays with?”
“I have family,” she muttered, getting out of the tub. “But no, I won’t be spending the holidays with them.”
Nash let that bit of information settle. Honey had never let on she had relatives in the area. It was another layer peeled back, a bit of herself she probably hadn’t meant to reveal.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
