by LK Farlow
“Oh!” Ashley exclaims, and I try to pull my hand back. She holds tight though. “Not you. The salon we just passed had the cutest name, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah? What was it?” Right hand to the Bible, if anyone else tried to tell me about a cute salon name, I’d have tuned them out in two seconds flat. But with Ashley—I want all of her words, no matter how insignificant they may be.
“It was called Southern Roots—gah! I love it!”
My lips tip up in a grin at her infectious enthusiasm. Pure and good, Ashley’s one of those people whose smile makes you want to smile, too. But that’s just her—she makes everything brighter…better.
“Are we there yet?” Cruz asks, kicking his feet against the back of my seat.
“Bud, we’ve only been in the car for fifteen minutes.”
“And?”
“That means we have forty-five to go.”
They resume their game, spotting and guessing objects until eventually, Cruz falls quiet. A quick glance in my rearview mirror confirms my suspicions—he fell asleep.
34
Ashley
It feels like I’m floating. Like I’m suspended above my body, somewhere between elation and dismay, as Colton flies down the highway toward Bay Ridge.
From the moment I woke up, something felt different. And it wasn’t just the empty bed and cool sheets that had me off-kilter. No, the very air around me was charged and thick with anticipation.
I struggled all morning to pinpoint the source of my churning gut. Even when I went outside with Cruz, Mel, and Kim, my mind raced, trying to sift through the peculiar feelings weighing me. It wasn’t until I opened the card from Colton that the truth hit me like a ton of bricks.
My sixth sense was trying to warn me—to prepare me—that my soulmate was ready for me. Or on his way to ready, at the very least.
Which is where the dismay comes in, because Colton Banks is as stubborn as he is sexy, and some small part of me is still a little worried that the other shoe is yet to drop.
But for now, with my hand curled into his, I’m content to enjoy our journey.
We pull up to the aquarium about ten minutes before the agreed-upon time, which works in our favor as it gives Cruz time to wake up and orient himself.
“005.” I unbuckle and twist around in my seat. “Wake up.”
I reach out and jiggle his knobby knee, and he jerks awake. “Is it shark time?”
His excitement is so great it’s almost a tangible, breathing thing with a life of its own. “Yeah, bud. It’s shark time.”
We clamber out of the car and head to the entrance.
“Ashley!” The sound of my best friend shouting my name rises up above the din of chatter in the aquarium lobby. “Oh my God, girl!” Mallory bear-hugs me, holding me as close as her rounded belly will allow. “I have missed you, girl!”
“I’ve missed you, too!” I palm her stomach like it’s a basketball. “And look at you!”
“I’m the size of a house.”
“You’re beautiful, and you’re carrying two precious babies.”
Mally rolls her eyes. “Still fat.”
“Preg-nant.” I break the word down into syllables. “Say it with me.”
“Or,” she moves her eyes from side-to-side, her lips curling into a devious grin, “you could introduce me to your friends.”
“Oh!” I gasp. “Yes! This is Colton.” I tug him forward to meet my best friend.
“The lawyer.” She eyes him skeptically, as if trying to determine his worthiness. “Mallory Kincaid, nice to meet you.”
Colton shakes her hand. “You, too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“And all of it was good, I’m sure. Though, I can’t say the same about you.”
Her candid response has Colton shaking his head. “Ash and I got off to a bit of a rocky start.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Now, who is this cutie?”
“005, come meet Ashley’s best friend.”
Cruz scampers over to us, coming to a stumbling halt by his dad’s side. “I thought I was your best friend, Agent Purple.”
My heart splinters at his words. “That’s the really cool thing about friends, bud. There’s no limit on how many you can have. You’re my best friend, but Mrs. Mally is, too.”
Mallory kneels down and addresses him head on instead of letting us make the introduction. “My name is Mallory. What’s yours?”
“Cruz,” he whispers back, clinging to the hemline of Colton’s shirt.
“Oh, I love that name. It fits you perfectly. Do you know why?”
He creeps a little closer to my knockout of a friend. “Why?”
“Because only smart, strong people have a name like Cruz.”
His little blond head nods. “I am smart and strong.”
“I thought so.” She turns her attention back to me. “Help me up?”
Once she’s back on two feet, I ask her where Natalie is.
“Right here!” comes a reply from behind me. I turn in time to see a heavily pregnant Natalie waddling toward us with Tatum skipping along happily at her side. “Sorry we’re late,” she huffs the words, out of breath.
I glance down at my wrist, noticeably bare of a watch. “Looks like you’re right on time to me.” Quickly, I introduce her and Tatum to Colton and Cruz.
Natalie also appraises my soulmate, pinning her gaze on his for several moments before nodding politely.
We head to the ticket counter, where Colton insists on covering everyone’s entry—a move that undoubtedly earns him serious bonus points with my friends.
As we head into the first exhibit, Colton reaches for my hand again. The butterflies in my belly take flight at his public display of affection, flapping their wings in time to the racing beat of my heart.
He never once lets me go as the six of us move from room to room, and while each tank is more colorful and exciting than the last, Cruz seems far more interested in a certain precocious, blonde-haired little girl than he is in the fish.
About halfway through, I notice Cruz and Tatum are holding hands as well. I shoot my little Casanova a questioning look, but he merely tips his chin to where his daddy is holding my hand. Touché, Cruz, touché.
At each placard, Tatum reads the words to him, telling him about all of the species and varieties housed behind the thick walls of glass.
We spend extra time in the shark tunnel, letting Cruz get his fill of the massive predators.
As the magnificent beasts swim overhead, Colton wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his head on my shoulder. His eagerness to touch me so casually in front of my friends feels like a dream.
Oh, no—it this a dream?
I pinch my inner elbow. “Ouch.” Nope, not a dream.
“You okay?” he asks, moving my braid away from my neck so he can discreetly pepper the exposed area with kisses.
I shiver beneath the feel of his lips, my breaths coming rapidly enough to fog the glass of the tank in front of me.
“Mm-hmm. Totally fine.”
He moves his lips back to my ear. “You’re lying.”
I shake my head, insisting to him I’m not lying.
He goes to argue, but Cruz cuts him off. “Daddy,” the little boy whines, “stop hogging Agent Purple so we can go see the octopus!”
I can’t help but laugh at his perception of things. He seems to be taking the small developments between Colton and me in stride, but only time will tell how he really feels.
We’re all disappointed when we get to the octopus’s tank, as it’s closed for maintenance. Cruz looks utterly heartbroken, but a hug from Tatum seems to cure his blues.
At the end, we hit up the gift shop, snagging a few mementos to remember our trip—a magnet for me, an octopus shirt for Cruz.
“Y’all wanna come to the café for a late lunch?” Natalie asks, looking and sounding a little tired.
“My daddy’s café is the best ever!” Tatum announces proudly.
“The. Best.” The sassy little girl cuts her eyes at him.
“Well, we better try it then.”
His easy manner with kids is mind-blowing to me. For being one of the most uptight men I’ve ever met, he relates to kids on an almost molecular level.
“I’ll text you the address or y’all can follow me,” Mallory says.
“We’ll just follow you.”
“Actually,” she interlocks her arm with mine, “why don’t you ride with me? You know, so we can catch up a little more.”
I turn to Colton, to find him smiling. “That sounds perfect. You two can gossip, and Cruz and I can have some guy time.”
Mallory and I turn to walk away, but Colton stops me. “You’re going to leave without saying bye?”
“I’ll see you in—” Colton silences me with a hard press of his lips.
I freeze at first—oh my glob, he is kissing me in front of freaking everyone—but he gently coaxes my lips open. He slips his tongue inside, stroking it against mine in a sensual caress before pulling back leaving me dazed.
“See you in a few, Ash.” He goes in for one more chaste kiss. “Be careful with my girl,” he tells Mallory.
“Yeah, Mrs. Mally. Be careful with our girl.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes; the combination of Colton’s public claiming and Cruz’s easy acceptance is almost too much for me to bear.
“I promise I’ll be careful. Cross my heart.”
35
Colton
As expected, Cruz’s questions start as soon as we’re alone in the car.
“Is Ashley your girlfriend? Do you love her? You kissed her, so that means you love her. Oh! If you love her, you can marry her! Then she can be my stepmom, right? Married people can have babies, can’t they? Are y’all gonna give me a sister? I think I might want one, because Tatum’s pretty cool. Are all girls cool like her and Agent Purple?”
“Cruz, bud.” I’m barely suppressing my laughter. “Slow down.”
“But I wanna know everything!” he whines.
“How about one thing at a time?”
He ponders my offer. “Fine.”
“Okay, answer to question one—yes, Ashley is my…girlfriend.” The way my tongue wraps around the word feels foreign to me. But at the same time, it feels right. Weirdly fucking right. “How do you feel about that?”
“Like it was…” He stops and scratches his head. “What did Gramma Mel say…oh! A long time coming.”
“She said that?”
“Uh huh.”
“What else did she say?”
“I’m asking the questions, Daddy.”
“True, true. Next question then?”
“Do you love her?”
I open my mouth to answer him, only to promptly snap it closed. Do I love Ashley? Talk about a loaded question. There are definitely things about her I love. The way she cares for Cruz as if he were her own, for instance. Or the way she lives her life to the fullest and how she made a life for herself. I love her fire, her drive, and her sassy-ass mouth sure doesn’t hurt either. Does loving parts of her mean I love her?
I’m at a loss on how to answer my son, my mind racing with ways to explain myself.
“It’s okay, Daddy. I love her a whole bunch, and my love can be enough for both of us until you’re ready to love her, too.”
Unfamiliar emotion clogs my throat as I try to process his words. For only five, the kid sure is wise—probably more so than me, when it comes to matters of the heart.
“Thanks, bud. I-I appreciate that.”
I catch his toothy grin in the rearview mirror. “I guess my other questions gotta wait until you love her, huh?”
I flip my blinker on and turn into Bayside Café’s parking lot. “Probably so.”
“Okay,” he sighs, “but, Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you maybe hurry?”
Me: I miss you.
Ashley: I figured you’d need a break from me after so many days together.
Me: Ashley. What I *need* is to taste your lips. To feel your skin. To hear you say my name as you climax.
Ashley: Whoa! Detour into dirty texting!
Me: It’s been three days since I’ve seen you.
Ashley: I’ll be home tonight and you’ll see me when you drop Cruz off tomorrow morning.
Me: I want to see you now. It hardly seems fair that you had to leave the second we came home from Dogwood.
Ashley: If it helps, I miss you, too.
Me: Doesn’t help at all.
Ashley: Sorry! I gotta get going if I want to make good time on the drive home!
I meant what I said—about it not being fair. We arrived home Thursday night only for her to leave Friday morning to head down to the Florida Keys for a destination wedding.
What makes it even worse—I can’t stop asking myself Cruz’s question.
Do I love her?
Or am I projecting my feelings in her absence? Is going from being with her full-throttle to cold turkey amping up my desire?
I want her here. And I don’t mean in Cottonwood. I want her here. By my side, in my house, in my bed. I meant it when I told her I wanted to explore this thing between us, and the thought of her being in my life and me not being able to touch her…kiss her…taste her—frankly, it’s unacceptable.
But does that mean I love her?
I’ve admitted to loving things about her, but did Aristotle get it right when he said, “The whole is more than the sum of its parts”?
Is it Ashley that I love? Or just aspects of her?
The answer is about as clear as mud.
36
Ashley
I raise my fist and knock, regretting it instantly. This seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now—I’m not so sure. The words I miss you doesn’t necessarily translate to please show up at my house in lingerie in the middle of the night.
And yet, here I am, doing just that.
I’m on the verge of turning and fleeing back to the safety of my car when the front door flies open, giving way to a spitting mad and adorably sleep-rumpled Colton. Though, the anger definitely eclipses the cuteness.
“What in the hell do you want?” he roars.
I squeak, holding my hands up in surrender as I back away from the enraged male. So much for him missing me. My heart climbs to my throat with the thought. Maybe the shine of us wore off now that we’re back in the real world. Maybe he only wants us to have a sexual fling.
“Ashley?” He rubs his eyes and squints at me. “What are you doing here at one in the morning?”
“Nothing. It’s…I-I’ll go. Sorry to—”
“The only place you’ll be going is my bed.” He reaches out and grabs me by the sash of my kimono and pulls me into him. I don’t get another word out before his lips descend hungrily on mine.
His kiss is bruising—hard and urgent—as he infuses it with everything he isn’t saying. I missed you. I’m glad you’re here. Don’t go.
Right as I expect him to deepen our kiss, he pulls away. Much to my chagrin, I whimper at the loss of contact, my needy lips following his retreat.
The sexiest of grins lights his face. “Let’s take this inside, and maybe you can show me what’s under this little number.”
I allow him to tug me over the threshold, down the hall, and to his room. He doesn’t give me a chance to take it in before he picks me up and tosses me onto the center of his enormous bed.
“You’re not mad I’m here?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows in what I hope is a sexy pose.
He shakes his head, licking his lips.
“Are you sure? Because you seemed a little…Hulk-y.”
“The last time someone knocked on my door in the middle of the night it was Kelsey.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” He rakes his eyes over me. “But I don’t want to talk about her.”
“What do you want to t
alk about?”
His gaze darkens. “I don’t want to talk at all.”
Sitting up, I reach for the tie to my kimono but Colton knocks my hands out of the way.
“You can’t show up here, wrapped up all pretty like a present, and then deny me unwrapping you.”
My breaths saw in and out of my lungs as he tugs his solid white T-shirt off singlehandedly, leaving him in only a pair of gray sweats. They sit low enough on his trim hips that I know he isn’t wearing anything beneath them.
“Lay down and spread your legs, Ashley.”
Any other day, I’d challenge him, goad him into making me, but right now I’m far too desperate for his touch. I do as he says, scooting back and laying my head on his pillow. I draw my legs up, allowing them to fall open with my knees bent and my feet planted on the mattress.
“Did you miss me, Ashley?” He reaches out for the tail end of the tie, undoing the knot in a single tug.
I moan softly and nod.
He joins me on the bed, positioning himself on his knees between my parted thighs. “You missed me so much you came here? In the middle of the night?”
“Yes, Colton.” My words are nothing more than a harsh whisper as desire robs me of my voice.
“You’re aching for me, aren’t you?” He rubs his strong hands up my legs, from ankle to thigh. “You want me to fill this pretty pink pussy of yours and make you feel good?”
I don’t know what game he’s playing, but damn if I don’t love it.
“Please,” I whimper. My skin is flushed yet I’m chilled to the bone. I shift my hips, trying to find friction to relieve the need pounding through me. “Please touch me.”
“In due time.”
His voice is firm where mine is reedy. I’m a writhing mess, while he’s the picture of control. We’re polar opposites. And yet, perfect for one another.
He parts the sides of my kimono, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of my body wrapped in nothing but an ivory lace thong. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous.”