Ask Me to Stay Read Online Free PDF

his urging, the kids barrelled inside to get ready for bed. Dean crossed the driveway to stand with his mother-in-law. ‘Hi, Fiona,’ he murmured.
    Bree’s mother nodded. The verandah lights highlighted the tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, over the neighbouring grazing fields, then up at the house where her daughter had died. She touched his forearm and turned back to the car. He watched her go before he walked into the house alone, his fingers hooked around two wine glasses.
    When the lights were off and the doors locked he climbed the stairs. All was quiet. The master bedroom was across the hall from where Ethan slept. As he passed he heard the soft clink of ice in a glass. Despite the rumours amusing the town at present, Dean couldn’t judge Ethan for drinking. Moments ago he’d been doing the same.
    He stepped into the master bedroom and was unsurprised to find his children in the bed on their mother’s side. He smiled at them, retreated to the walk-in robe to change, then climbed into bed beside them. They turned to him, eyes wide, needing soft words and sweet promises.
    He touched their faces and squeezed their hands. ‘This is the last night, kids.’ He swallowed, struggling to keep his voice steady. ‘We wash the sheets tomorrow, okay?’
    Nina turned her head to the pillow and breathed in the fading scent of her mother. Ro pulled the sheet up to his nose and closed his eyes.
    It was another goodbye. Another loss. They came one after another, some expected, others not. Each as devastating as the last.

Three
    A motor turned over and the country serenity expired. Ethan squeezed his eyes tight and elbowed his pillow over an ear. His stomach rolled and pitched, full of booze, empty of food. He still wore his shorts. His shirt had been stripped off somewhere between the front door and the bed.
    An exploratory foot told him he wore one shoe and two socks. Clearly his demons had prompted a late-night walk.
    The motor growled then purred, growled again. Moving, he realised.
    He pushed his aching body up, swung his feet to the floor. With effort, he opened the window. It seized then released, years since it had been shown any attention, and summer air rolled inside.
    Ethan eased his forearms against the window ledge and closed his eyes against the glare.
    When the purr became a roar, he opened his eyes and saw her.
    Sitting astride a ride-on lawn mower, her liquorice hair flying behind her, Sammy leaned into the corners and never eased off the accelerator. She wore ear protection and sunglasses, a combination that made her lips seem pouty and her nose small on her oval-shaped face. She was, of course, not pouting. Samantha O’Hara never pouted. But it was an alluring look.
    The hems of her cut-off denim shorts flirted high on her thighs. When she leaned forwards her spaghetti-strap singlet top rode up her back. An olive-green cotton shirt was unbuttoned but knotted above her navel, the sleeves rolled to her elbows. It hid what Ethan knew to be two handfuls of small, firm breasts.
    She was a fascination to him. Always had been. Unflappable, strong, yet unexpectedly feminine beneath her almost masculine self-reliance.
    Stepping away from her eleven years ago was still his greatest regret.
    How he had managed to keep his secret from her he would never guess. She would have both understood and helped him endure, but he’d wanted to protect her – protect them all – from the ugliness of the truth. And for them to continue to believe a beautiful lie, he’d had to leave. It had been the only way. A decision he stood by even now, despite what it had cost him.
    He’d never confess to it, but it pained him to see her coping so well. He’d hoped to be missed more. Each time he returned he searched for her, discontent until they spoke. But the reunions got a little worse each time. Two years ago, when Bree had opened her business, there had been little more than a polite exchange of words. Now Sammy