by Jae
Sasha loved hearing her laugh so unrestrained, but at the same time, she wondered what Nadia had said. Was she trying her French charm on Ashley—and was it working?
Finally, Nadia gave her two kisses on the cheeks.
Cassidy, her business partner, watched them with a frown that probably resembled the one Sasha was sporting. Her knife slid through a bundle of leeks with more force than necessary.
Ooh. Sasha’s mood brightened. Am I sensing a little kitchen romance? Interestingly, the usually suave Nadia seemed clueless.
Ashley returned to the table and picked up her dessert box—the one with Nadia’s number on it. “All right. I’m ready to leave.”
Wasn’t she going to say anything? Sasha kept waiting as she guided her outside and back to the car. When she started the engine, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Nadia isn’t used to being rejected. How did she take it? Um, you did turn her down, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. What did you think?”
“I don’t know. Those two little kisses looked awfully friendly.” Sasha peeked over at her, then back at the traffic. “So?”
“I thanked her for dinner.”
“And…?” Sasha nudged her. “Tell me.”
“I told her that I’d definitely be back for more of the great food, but that I wouldn’t be calling her for anything else.”
“Wow.” Sasha knew such frank words weren’t normally Ashley’s style. “That’s great. Uh, I mean, it’s good that you’re making yourself clear. How did she take it?”
Ashley shrugged. “Didn’t bat an eye. She made a joke about losing her touch and then told me to get you to make your famous hazelnut cake with caramel mousse for me.”
“Huh.” Sasha hadn’t thought Nadia would take it so well.
“What? You expected her to be heartbroken?” Ashley laughed. “I’m not that irresistible.”
Sasha’s libido thought otherwise—which was why she was equally looking forward to and dreading sharing a room with her in Florida.
“So,” Ashley said as Sasha got onto Interstate 35, “will you?”
“Um, will I…what?”
“Make your famous hazelnut cake for me.”
Sasha chuckled and rubbed her neck, which felt overly warm. “That’s what I sometimes made for Nadia after we had…um…burned a lot of calories together.”
“Burned a lot of… Oh!” Ashley turned her head to stare through the side window as if trying to hide her blush.
God, she’s cute. Sasha grinned and admitted to herself that she really liked making her blush. Then, when she took her gaze off Ashley to focus on driving, she froze. Wait a minute… If Nadia had suggested Sasha make her hazelnut cake for Ashley, did that mean she thought they were sleeping together—or would be sleeping together sooner or later?
So what if she thinks that? She’s wrong. There would be no hazelnut cake for Ashley and especially no caramel mousse that could be licked from interesting places.
But apparently, her brain hadn’t gotten the no in that message. It immediately showed her snapshots of her licking caramel mousse off Ashley’s nipples and then swirling her tongue along the mousse trail on her belly. Jesus. She turned up the air-conditioning and directed the vents at her face.
Ashley let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, maybe hazelnut cake isn’t such a good idea after all. I’d better stick to your vanilla cupcakes.”
Sasha bit her lip and said nothing. After that kissing incident in the bakery kitchen, she wasn’t so sure cupcakes would be safer.
Chapter 14
“Goddamn mother-fucking bastards!” Leo’s famous pop star voice even sounded good when hurling curses across the Hy-Vee parking lot.
Uh-oh. Ash, who had just stepped out of the supermarket, slowed her step. That sounded as if Leo was having a bad day. Maybe she could help. She deviated from her course and carried her watermelon over to Leo’s BMW X5 instead of continuing to her own car. “You okay?”
Leo whirled around. She gripped her phone so tightly that Ash thought the screen would shatter. “Did that sound like I’m okay?” she snarled.
Ash took a step back and clutched her watermelon. “Um, no, not really.”
Leo sighed, shoved the phone into her pocket, and rubbed her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just so damn frustrating.”
“Music industry trouble?” Ash asked.
“I wish. At least then I could pretend to be a diva, knock some heads together, and be done with it.”
“Then what is it?” Ash stepped closer. “Can I help in any way?”
Leo’s grim expression softened. “That’s nice of you to offer, but unless you have a reception venue in your back pocket, I don’t think you can.”
“Reception venue? Why do you need another one? I thought you booked the ballroom of the country club.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Leo slumped against the rear of her car. “But they just called and said they’ve double-booked the ballroom on that day, so they can’t give it to us after all.”
Ash stared at her. “Is this some kind of,” she glanced left and right and lowered her voice, “homophobic bullshit?”
Leo sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that it’s really just a mistake. They apologized profusely, but that doesn’t do us any good.”
“Even if it was an honest mistake, how can they kick Jenna Blake out?” Someone with a brain the size of a pea must have made that decision.
“I guess that’s what I get for not wanting to play the superstar card and insisting they kick out the other couple.”
Ash smiled at her. That was what she liked about Leo. Even after four Grammy Awards and five platinum albums, she never assumed her own needs were more important than those of everyone else.
“Looks like I’ll have to make a few calls. It shouldn’t be too hard to find something else, but probably not in town. Not at this late notice.” Leo kicked a pebble across the parking lot. “Shit. My mother had her heart set on a Fair Oaks wedding. We already disappointed her when we refused to get married in the church where my dad played the organ every Sunday for over thirty years. And now this…”
Growing up, Ash had spent almost as much time at the Blakes’ as she had at home. Leo’s father had taught her how to play the piano, and Leo’s mother had held her after Melissa had killed herself and her own parents had been too overwhelmed with grief to really be there for her. “What if…?” She hesitated. If she let this particular Pandora out of the box, there was no way back. Do it. Come on. It’s for Leo and Holly. She inhaled deeply, then blew out a breath through her nose. “What if I have a venue you could use?”
Leo gave her a tired smile. “It’s a lovely offer, Ash, but I don’t think all of our guests will fit in your tiny backyard.”
She hadn’t called her Ash in years, and Ashley only now realized how much she’d missed it. Hearing it strengthened her resolve. “I’m not talking about my backyard. Do you remember the old barn where we used to have band practices?”
“You mean the one where you broke my little heart when I caught you kissing Brandon?” Leo’s eyes twinkled, indicating that she had long since gotten over it.
A blush warmed Ash’s cheeks. “Um, yeah, that one.” He had been kissing her, not the other way around, but that didn’t matter now. “My dad isn’t really using it anymore. He keeps some tractor parts and other equipment in there, but that’s all. Maybe I can talk my parents into letting you use the barn for the reception.”
Leo stared off into space as if she could already see the barn set up for the wedding. “Hmm, that could work. According to my mom’s bridal magazines, old barns and their rustic charm are all the rage for weddings right now. I bet Holly would love it.” She turned her gaze on Ash. “But are you sure you want to ask your p
arents to let us use it? Knowing them, they won’t exactly be overjoyed to host a lesbian wedding on their land. Do you really think they’ll say yes?”
“I have no idea,” Ash said honestly. “But asking won’t hurt, right?”
Leo looked at her as if she knew it wasn’t that easy for Ash. Asking would hurt, but Ash was willing to do it anyway. “Thank you,” Leo finally said.
“They haven’t said yes yet, and I can’t guarantee they will.” Ash didn’t want Leo to get her hopes up too much.
“Thank you anyway.” Leo reached across the watermelon in Ash’s arms and patted her shoulder. “Can you let me know by the end of the week? If it doesn’t work out, I’ll need to start looking for other options.”
Ash gave a grim nod. That would give her four days to talk to her parents. “We’re having a barbecue on Sunday. I’ll ask them then and call you right after.”
Ash left Casper with her mother in the kitchen, not stopping to chat beyond saying hello, and went outside to where her father had set up his beloved charcoal grill. She knew she had to talk to him first, since he usually handled all decisions regarding the farm buildings.
When she slid open the glass door, the tantalizing aroma of sizzling steaks wafted over. Usually, it would have made her mouth water, but now she was too nervous to be hungry.
Her father placed the lid on the grill and waved his long-handled barbecue fork in welcome. “Hi, honey. Good timing. The steaks should be done in a few minutes.”
“Hi, Dad.” She walked over and kissed his cheek.
He wrapped one arm around her and didn’t let go as they talked, keeping her next to him at the grill. “I hope you’re hungry. Your mother is baking enough potatoes to feed a team of football players. Maybe you should call some of your friends and ask them over.”
“Um, I’m sure they all have plans for lunch already.”
Her father shrugged. “Then invite them over another time. It’s been ages since you brought anyone home.”
Ash suppressed a groan. Clearly, her mother had talked to her father about her lack of dates, and that was what he was hinting at. But his invitation had also opened the door for what she wanted to talk about. “Um, actually, I was thinking of having some friends over. But not just for a barbecue.”
“If you want to throw a big party for your birthday this year, sure. We’ve got the space.”
“Not for my birthday.” Ash shuffled her feet. Her father’s arm around her shoulders suddenly felt heavy. “I was more thinking of a wedding.”
A screeching cry and the crash of glass interrupted her father before he could say anything.
Ash turned her head.
Her mother stood in the doorway of the sliding door. A bottle of barbecue sauce had escaped from her grasp, and now little shards of glass and spatters of sauce covered half of the patio. “You’re getting married? That’s…that’s…wonderful, but…who…?”
Ash pressed her hand to her forehead. Oh Christ. She was making a mess of things. “No, Mom. I’m not getting married. My friends are.”
“Oh.” Her mother’s face fell. “Who’s getting married? I didn’t know we’d have another wedding in Fair Oaks. Why am I always the last one in town to find out? We’re spending too much time on the farm, Tom.”
“Um, it’s not another wedding, Mom. I’m talking about Leo and Holly’s wedding.” Ash forced herself to continue before she could chicken out. “The country club just canceled their reservation, so now they don’t have a space for their wedding reception. I was thinking maybe they could use the old barn.”
Her father lifted the lid of the grill and flipped the steaks without saying anything.
“Dad?”
Her father took his time replacing the lid. “Why would you want them to celebrate that kind of wedding in our barn?”
Ash tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Because they’re my friends.”
He rubbed his neck. “I don’t know about that, Ashley.”
A spark of anger smoldered hotter than the charcoal in the grill. “When we were growing up, Leo spent a lot of time helping out at the farm. She walked beans as much as I did, and she never complained about the blisters on her hands, even though her father gave her hell about them because they interfered with her violin playing. You told her to call you Tom because she was almost like a family member…and now you don’t care that she won’t have a place to celebrate her wedding?”
“That was a long time ago,” her father mumbled. “She was different then.”
“No, Dad. She wasn’t. She was gay back then too. You just didn’t know it.” The words bubbled out of Ash like a flooded river in spring.
“I’m not talking about,” he waved his barbecue fork, “that. She got too big for her britches. Ms. Famous Singer thinks she’s too good for little people like us, and now she wants our barn for her wedding? Hell, no. Either she is one of us, or she isn’t. Can’t have it both ways.”
“Yeah,” her mother added as she picked up the biggest glass shards and started to clean up the mess. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that she didn’t call—not even once—all the years she was gone. Not even a card to say congratulations when you opened the flower shop. It was out of sight, out of mind, and she of all people should have known how much it would hurt you to lose anyone else after Melissa…after losing your sister.”
Her father stabbed at the steaks. “Yeah. Leontyne also barely talked to you the first year after she got back. What kind of friend does that?”
Oh shit. Her parents had noticed but had completely misjudged the reason. “That had nothing to do with her thinking she’s too good for us. Yes, we stopped talking for a while, but that’s all on me. It was my fault. I…” How could she explain what she had done to make Leo stop talking to her?
She couldn’t—not without outing herself.
“I did some stupid things that hurt her. That’s part of why I want to make it up to her by helping her find a place for the reception.” She gripped her father’s sleeve. “Please, Daddy. Let her use the barn.”
She rarely asked him for anything; they both knew that.
Their parents exchanged gazes across the grill.
“The steaks will burn if we don’t take them off now,” her mother said.
Her father reached for the platter and piled inch-thick steaks on it.
Ash gritted her teeth. Maybe a month or two ago, she would have just ducked her head and respected her parents’ silence, but spending time with Sasha was teaching her to speak up for herself. “So you’re not even going to give me an answer? Are we going to pretend I never said anything? I thought what happened with Melissa taught us better than that.” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them.
The lid fell onto the grill with a loud clunk.
Her mother flinched as if Ash had hit her.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Her father lifted his hand, interrupting her. “No, you’re right. We should have kept digging to find out what was bothering your sister instead of thinking the problem would solve itself if we just didn’t speak about it. If we had, at least we wouldn’t have to live with this horrible pain of not knowing why…or we might have even been able to prevent it.” His gaze sharpened. “But if you ever throw it in your mother’s face again…”
“I won’t. I’m sorry. It’s just…” Ash’s eyes burned, and she blinked rapidly to fight back the tears that threatened. “This is important to me, and I didn’t know how else to get through to you.”
One arm wrapped around his wife, her father carried the platter of steaks inside.
Without saying a word, her mother got a new bottle of barbecue sauce from the pantry.
They took their seats at the table, and her father held out his hands.
Ash joined hands with her parents and lowered her gaze to her
empty plate, waiting for him to say grace.
“They can have the barn,” her father said instead.
Ash’s head flew up, and she stared at him, then at her mother, who sighed and nodded her agreement.
“But let’s be clear: We’re doing this for you, not for Leontyne or Holly,” her father added.
Ash jumped up and threw her arms around him, then around her mother. “Thank you.” She gave her an extra squeeze and whispered, “I really am sorry.”
Her mother squeezed back. “I know.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.
“Now let’s eat,” her father said gruffly. “The steaks are getting cold.”
Ash sat back down and exhaled. She had asked, and her parents had said yes. The conversation had been too hurtful for her to be happy about it, but at least she had managed to stand up for her friends this time. She removed the foil from her baked potato and ignored the trembling of her hands.
On Monday morning, when Ash went to work, she was still a little shaken. Deep in thought, she walked up to the flower shop’s front door and almost stumbled over the box sitting in front of it.
“What the…?” Frowning, she bent to pick up the box. It wasn’t until she held it in her hands that she remembered it was April 1. Oh shit. Was this a practical joke someone was playing on her?
But the box didn’t explode or give off any awful smells, so she carried it inside and flipped on the lights.
A Slice of Heaven’s logo on the lid smoothed out the line on her forehead. The box was from Sasha. Despite her sense of humor, she didn’t seem the type to play practical jokes on April Fools’ Day. Had she sent some delicious treat to sweeten Ash’s start into the workweek?
Her thoughtfulness put a smile on Ash’s face. Whenever Sasha was ready to have a real steak dinner, some woman would be damn lucky. The thought made her smile falter.
She opened the lid and lifted out a single cupcake—vanilla with strawberry buttercream frosting. No cookies for Brooke today. This was all for her. A tiny, red sugar flower stuck out of the frosting. Sasha had recreated the ruffled petals of a carnation to perfection. Carefully, Ash pulled the carnation from the buttercream, wiped off the frosting, and admired the sugar flower from all sides. She already knew that she wouldn’t be eating this little piece of art.