But he wouldn't. “What's wrong? You got a boyfriend or something?"
"No, but—"
"Take your hands off her."
The voice, low and angry, came from behind Ash. Startled, the guy unwrapped himself from her waist, and she almost fell into Eddie in her rush to get away. He put one hand on her shoulder, and her legs turned wobbly with relief.
"You okay?” he breathed into her ear.
A tingle ran down her arm. Uh-oh. Tingles weren't good. Well, they were, but not in this case. She wasn't supposed to let her neighbor knock her off her feet with desire. Ash took a step back to catch her balance and nodded.
Eddie glared at the guys, who'd turned back to their nachos with sheepish faces. He lowered his voice another degree, so that his next words came out as a clear threat. “You touch her again, you even breathe wrong when you're asking for a glass of water, I'll make sure you don't walk straight for the next week."
"Whatever,” one of them muttered.
Eddie strode over to the table. Biceps flexed as he put both hands on the back of an empty chair and squeezed. “What'd you say?"
"Nothing, man,” one of the other guys said. “We're leaving anyway."
"Good idea.” And as Ash watched, Eddie stood there with arms crossed as she brought them the bill and collected their tab, plus an extra twenty for her tip.
"You didn't have to do that."
He shrugged, the angry look melting away as the three finally stumbled out of the restaurant. “They were being assholes."
She walked over to him, thankful down to the tips of her toes. Without letting herself think too much about what came next, she planted a kiss on Eddie's scarred cheek. “Thank you."
"Ah, it wasn't anything.” But he didn't move and neither did she, until a crowd of people came into the restaurant, and she had to help Lacey with the order. The next time Ash checked the bar, Eddie was gone.
Chapter Six
The following week, Ash dragged herself back to Lycian Street after a hectic lunch shift. A toddler had managed to spill iced tea down her legs, and her right sock had turned a pukish-yellow color. Her arms ached. Her legs ached. And it was only four o'clock in the afternoon. Thank God she had tomorrow off.
The sun beat down, on a mid-June day that felt more like the heaviness of August. She checked her cell phone. Her mother had called once in the last week, leaving a teary message that pleaded with Ash to return to Boston.
"We need the whole family together,” Mamie Kirk wept on the voicemail. “Please, Ashton. Your father needs to know we all support him."
But do we? Ash shook her head. She didn't know what to believe. She didn't know who was telling the truth, and who was making up tales. She slowed as she passed Lou's and breathed in the aroma of fresh bread and garlic. Two cars drove by. A mother with her baby in a stroller jogged down the sidewalk. The church clock chimed the hour.
Ash felt the muscles in her neck unclench. It's so different from Boston, she thought for the umpteenth time. True, Paradise had only one grocery store, no movie theater, and no Wal-Mart. It had a single stoplight that turned to blinking yellow after midnight. It did have a train station, but it seemed as though more people left the town than returned to it. It sat shrouded by low mountains, a stone's throw from one of the largest cities in the country, and yet sometimes Ash felt as though she couldn't have been more protected, more isolated, than if she'd moved to the moon.
"It's nice,” she said aloud. And I don't want to go back to the city. Not now. Not yet. She just had to figure out how to explain that to her mother.
Reaching her street, Ash turned the corner and felt around her pocket for her keys. After a hot shower, maybe she'd see if Eddie was in the mood for some Chinese food. Though they hadn't seen too much of each other in the last few days, she'd heard him down there, blasting his rock music and rearranging furniture. Since moving in three weeks ago, they'd shared a couple of early dinners and a beer or two on the porch. Other than that, their paths didn't cross too often. Still, she liked knowing he was there. It made the house a little more full, the nights a little less lonely, when she curled into bed and tried not to dream of Colin.
A breath of air moved around the corner, blowing strands of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. The weekend stretched out ahead of her, without so much as a single lunch shift to keep her busy. Anxiety bubbled inside her chest. She needed something to keep her mind off her mother's calls. Off her father's predicament. Off the heartache that just wouldn't go away.
Man, she hoped Eddie was home. She hoped he didn't have plans for dinner. She hoped—
"Hey, stranger."
He sat on the front porch, a six-pack between his feet and a lazy grin on his face.
"Hey, yourself.” Smiling, she dropped to sit on the top step. “You're home early."
"Yeah. Frank's going outta town for the weekend, closed at two.” He flipped the top off a bottle and handed it over.
"Thanks. How'd you know that's exactly what I need?"
Eddie took a long pull on his own bottle. “Figured you'd be pretty beat. Fridays always get a big lunch crowd down at the restaurant."
Ash cocked one eyebrow. “Thanks for giving me a heads-up. You could have let me know."
She leaned back against the porch railing. Nothing moved. No cars turned down their block. No joggers ran by; no kids played in the park across the street. She closed her eyes and welcomed the silence.
"So how was work this week?” she asked after a while.
"Good, same as always. Crazy customers wanting to know why we can't fix their cars in an hour, when they've been driving around for two weeks with the problem."
Ash smiled. “Yeah, people are funny that way."
"So what's for dinner?"
She turned. “Whatever you're making."
He laughed, and she noticed that his goatee had grown a little more in the last few days. Thick and dark, it caught the light and turned a reddish-brown in places. Not like Colin or anyone else I ever dated. All her past boyfriends had smooth faces and baby-clean cheeks. For the first time, she realized she liked the look of stubble on a man. Hot. Rugged. Rough in all the right ways.
She dropped her chin, hoping Eddie couldn't read her thoughts. “I was thinking about ordering Chinese."
"Sounds good to me."
"You don't have plans for tonight? It's Friday."
"Nope."
"No hot dates?"
"Not until tomorrow."
"Oh.” Ash studied the stain on her sock. With one hand, she reached up and loosened her ponytail, damp with perspiration. “Who's the lucky girl?"
Eddie cleared his throat. “Cheri Ryerson.” Long pause. “Don't think you know her."
Ash got up, sticking her empty bottle back inside the cardboard carrier. “Don't think I do. She live in Paradise?"
"Next town over."
"Well, lover boy, I'm sure you'll have a good time."
He stood too, following her to the door. “I'm sure I will."
They were halfway inside when Helen called to them from across the street. Ash had one hand on the doorknob, and Eddie was picking up the empties, when the woman hobbled her way over.
"Ashley!” Helen's voice scratched on the syllables, and her breathing came in great gasps. “Edward!"
In slow motion, Ash turned. She didn't like the tone in the woman's voice: eager, gossipy, dangerous. She took a step back, meaning to create some sort of excuse and head upstairs. But Eddie had already loped down the steps, a playboy grin on his face.
Helen stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, hands on her hips. “I was downtown today, getting my hair done.” She stopped, drawing in a deep, rattling breath. “And a newspaper reporter came into Hair Heaven. From Boston."
Oh, God. Ash took two steps across the porch and then tumbled down the stairs, straight into Eddie's back. Into Eddie's strong, tall, incredibly muscular back. He turned and grabbed her with both hands before she knocked the two of
them over.
"You okay?"
She blew out a long breath, conscious of his hands on her even as she looked at her feet and willed Helen away. “Oh. God. I'm fine. Just tired. Sorry."
The white-haired woman looked as though she hadn't even noticed. “He was asking about someone named Ashton Kirk.” Her beady eyes stared at Ash. “I told him I'd never heard of anyone by that name."
Eddie shrugged. “Guess it sounds a little like Ash's name, but—"
"But it's not,” Ash finished.
"Of course it's not.” Eddie let his arm drop around Ash's neck, looping it across her shoulders. “Why was he all the way up here, anyway?"
Helen pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “I don't know. Said he was looking for Senator's Kirk's daughter."
"In Paradise?” Eddie began to laugh. “Why? Don't those types stay close to home?"
Ash felt something like a stone sink inside her. Those types...
"That's what I told him,” Helen said. “Said there wasn't any reason for a stuck-up politician's daughter to get her hands dirty way up here in New Hampshire. I guess he had some kind of lead. Thought maybe she skipped town to get away from the family mess."
Eddie turned to Ash. “You don't know who she's talking about, do you? You ever meet the senator's daughter?"
The stone got larger and threatened to lodge itself in Ash's throat. She managed to shake her head.
"Guess he's out of luck,” Eddie said.
Helen reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a business card. “Here. He passed them around to everyone who was in the salon, said to call if we had any information. I figure you have more chance of meeting someone like that than I do.” She handed the card to Eddie, who stuck it in the back pocket of his shorts. Ash caught herself looking at the smooth, tanned strip of skin along his lower back as his shirt pulled up and ordered herself to stop it, once and for all.
"Thanks, Helen,” Eddie said. “I'll let you know if I hear anything."
"Well, I hope so,” the woman went on. “Sadie said she wouldn't believe it, if a daughter of..."
Ash barely heard the words. It's only a matter of time before someone finds out. She backed away and let Eddie's arm drop, missing its heaviness when she did. What am I doing? How the hell did I think I could get away with this?
Chapter Seven
Sunday morning, Ash awoke to the sound of rain drumming the rooftop. Great. She'd planned on checking out the antique shops over in Silver Creek that afternoon. She rolled over and pushed her face into her pillow. Somehow, the idea of tromping through puddles on her way to and from the car didn't appeal. She eyed the clock. Six a.m. Gray light filtered through the curtains. It curled into the corners of the bedroom and draped itself around her shoulders. No reason to get up, she thought, slipping back into sleep. No reason at all.
As she moved back toward dreams, she wondered if the rain would clear by early afternoon. Eddie had promised to come up and watch the baseball game with her, explain once and for all why the Red Sox southpaw was the league's best pitcher in twenty years. If the lousy weather postponed the opening pitch, she'd likely be stuck watching Lifetime movies or Seinfeld reruns by herself.
"The Sox are playing the Yankees this weekend,” he'd told her Friday, over chicken lo mein (his) and tofu with seaweed (hers). “I'll stop up on Sunday and show you how a real baseball fan watches the game."
"You do that,” she answered, smiling over at him as they counted fireflies from her rooftop. “You do that..."
* * * *
The next sound Ash heard was a slam. Then a shout. She sat straight up in bed and stared at the clock. Quarter to eleven. Still the rain poured, pattering against the window. She reached for her robe and listened for the sound that had pulled her from sleep. She heard nothing for a minute. Then it came again: a series of thumps, followed by a male voice swearing. Eddie's voice.
Ash swung her feet over the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. What the hell is going on down there? Now it sounded as though he were running in circles around his apartment. Is he working out? Doing laps instead of going to the gym? Ash made her way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. She knew the guy kept himself in shape, but in his own apartment? On a Sunday morning?
His date. He's with his date from last night, that woman from Silver Creek. Cheri something. Ash's cheeks warmed. Of course. They were probably playing some kind of silly morning-after game, running half naked around his apartment while she winked and squealed and played hard to get. Before Ash could stop herself, the vision slipped inside her mind's eye: Eddie, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, catching the girl with those strong hands. Pulling her close and rubbing gentle thumbs along bare shoulders before leaning in for a kiss. A long kiss. A kiss that began in the hallway and ended somewhere in a tangle of sheets.
Ash pinched the skin on one arm to make herself stop. Knock it off. Don't think about Eddie that way. You can't afford to. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and poured herself a steaming mug of coffee. Dousing it with milk, she took a long sip, not caring that it burned her bottom lip. You're just friends, remember? Just neighbors, two people who share a house. It doesn't matter who he spend his nights with. Or his mornings.
So why did the thought make her so damned uncomfortable?
Another crash. Ash jumped in her chair. Damn! Cut it out. So you had company last night. Don't rub it in any more than you have to. She finished her coffee and shoved the mug away. Well, she might as well shower and find something to do with her day. No use sitting here, listening to Mr. Hotshot Lover chase his latest conquest around the bed.
She rose, wrapped her robe around her, and was heading into the bathroom when the knock landed on her door.
"Ash?"
She froze. Eddie? You've got to be kidding me. What, do you want me to play referee?
He knocked again, louder and longer. “Ash? You in rthere?"
Oh, for Christ's sake. She was in no mood. Marching over to the door, she yanked it open. “What do you want?"
He stood in the hallway, a hangdog look on his face. By himself. Ash peered over his shoulder. No model-thin woman hovered just behind him. No scent of leftover perfume hung in the air, either. Ash narrowed her eyes. “What's going on?"
Eddie raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. Barefoot, he wore a pair of frayed sweats, cut off at the knees, and an old Patriots jersey with the sleeves torn off. A fuzz of pillowcase was stuck to his chin, and Ash had to pin her arms to her sides to keep from reaching up to brush it away.
"Can you help me?"
"With what? Sounds like you're starting up a circus down there."
"No, it's...” He glanced over his shoulder, and worry wrinkled his face. When he looked back at her again, she thought she might fall right inside those eyes, those pools of blue, and not come up for a week.
"I found a kitten.” He ducked his chin. “Outside."
"A what?"
"A kitten. A really small one. It was hanging around last night, and then when I went out to get the paper this morning, it was still there, sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. Soaking wet."
"So you brought it inside?” Ash began to smile. Not a woman after all down there. Just a scared fluff of fur that her strapping, six-foot neighbor had decided to bring in out of the storm.
Eddie shrugged. “Well, it was sort of ... limping around. And crying. And I thought if I left it out there I'd be about the worst person in the entire world, so..."
Ash took one step into the hallway. “And now you can't catch it."
"Yeah. Thought I'd keep it in the bathroom, but it got out."
"Come on.” She pushed past Eddie and made her way down the stairs barefoot. She was already standing in front of his door before she considered if she should have changed into something more substantial than a cotton robe that barely came to her knees.
"I think he's under the chair,” Eddie said. As they wa
lked inside, he pointed to the leather recliner in the corner.
Ash tiptoed over and kneeled down, wondering if the breeze on the backs of her thighs meant her robe wasn't covering much. She readjusted. “Nope."
"Well...” Eddie turned in a slow circle. “I closed the door. He couldn't have gotten far."
Ash pushed herself back up and leaned over a blue corduroy sofa with its tags still attached. A dust ball danced across the hardwood, but no cat. She looked under the end table, and behind Eddie's entertainment center, which took up half the living room with its enormous television set.
Nothing.
"Maybe in the bedroom?” She felt funny looking in there.
"Maybe.” Eddie strode past her, down the hall. He whistled under his breath, a meek little coaxing tune that made her smile.
Ash hung back and watched as he looked in the corners of his sparsely furnished bedroom. This place could definitely use a woman's touch. Eddie—or someone—had hung navy blue curtains on the bedroom windows, but otherwise the walls remained bare. A desk and matching chairs were the only other pieces of furniture she could see, besides the box spring and mattress lying on the floor. A queen size, she noticed, not too big and not too narrow. Really, just the perfect size for two people to curl up in.
"Ash?” Eddie waved a hand in front of her face. “You still there? Thought you were gonna help me look."
"Oh. Sorry.” She glanced around at a faint meow.
Eddie cocked his head and listened. The meow came again. “Bathroom.” In an instant, he had darted past Ash, and a moment later he emerged holding a soggy ball of black and white. “Got him."
"Wow. It is small.” Ash heard a rumble start up in its throat.
"I told you.” Eddie peered down.
Ash took hold of one of the kitten's legs and pushed aside damp fur. “It has a cut here. A bad one. No wonder it's limping.” She lifted a towel off the rack inside the bathroom door and wrapped it around the animal. “Here.” In a moment she had clutched it to her chest, nuzzling it and blotting off the worst of the water. “Might want to get it to a vet. Know anyone who's open on Sundays?"
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