Ashley smiled. “Not what you hired me for, right?”
“As delightful as you are, Ashley, I think the purpose for your time with us might have come and gone.”
Martin felt his chest tighten at the thought that Ashley might leave the tour. What on earth was that about? She’s been there all this time and barely made an impression. Until this morning. It had been a hell of an impression too. Part of the reason he showered so quickly was so that he wouldn’t linger and let his mind wander to her as he stood naked under the spray of the water.
“I am sorry I haven’t been able to make a connection with Danny,” Ashley said. “He has to be ready, though. I did warn you and Felicity about that.”
“That’s true, you did.”
“What’s this?” Shay asked, joining them at the kitchen counter.
“Might as well face it head on, Shay,” James said. “Your brother has rejected Ashley and the whole reason she’s here, hasn’t he?”
Shay nodded slowly. “Suppose he has. But he’s kept himself on the straight and narrow, hasn’t he? Hasn’t caused a fuss.”
James reluctantly agreed. Danny Boy had thrown himself into his self-described “apprenticeship” of stage lighting these past few weeks and had actually become a useful part of the crew this time around. On the first part of the tour, he had pretended at learning a trade in order to justify his presence. In reality, he had spent most of his time distracting the lighting guys with his constant chatter and need for attention.
“Well, before you cut me loose, maybe I can give it another try with Danny?” Ashley asked.
“Cut you loose?” Conor asked. Gavin followed him as they joined the group in the kitchen. “Nonsense. You’re not leaving us. I need those green shakes you make. They are the only thing that gets me going after a late night out.”
“You survived just fine before she came along, didn’t you?” James asked with a smirk. “Anyway, she’s not really going anywhere. It’s a condition of our insurance that we keep her on through the end of the tour.”
Martin saw the look of relief on Ashley’s face and felt compelled to speak up. “Well, that wasn’t very kind, was it?”
James turned to him. “What’s that?”
“Making her feel like she was about to lose her job when you knew full well that wasn’t happening? That was just cruel.”
“It’s okay,” Ashley said with a shrug. “Why don’t you guys sit down at the table and I’ll serve you up in a minute.”
Gavin and Conor turned away without hesitation and were soon followed by James. Martin watched Ashley as she somehow managed to have three frying pans on the stove to cook multiple omelets. She was concentrating on her efforts and didn’t so much as glance his way.
When Martin turned in his barstool, he found Shay staring at him. Of course, Shay didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him as if trying to decipher something. As much as he loved Shay like a brother, his tendency toward this quiet examination could sometimes creep him out. Just say something. Or at least have the decency to look away when caught. But no, Shay usually acted as if he were invisible, like no one could plainly see that he was right there invading your privacy by watching too closely. This trait had always been a benign curiosity to Martin, but he suddenly wasn’t in the mood to brush it off. Not when he knew it meant Shay had registered his conspicuous concern for Ashley’s well being.
“Yes?” he said impatiently to Shay.
Shay blinked, breaking the spell. But still, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked at Ashley, examining her with a new kind of urgency.
“Time to eat, isn’t it?” Martin said. He stood and brushed past Shay.
He found it hard to relax and join in the conversation Gavin and Conor were engaged in. It was something to do with the negative response their latest single “Thoughts and Prayers” had received. The politically tinged, anti-gun song had confrontational lyrics, including “You see children gunned down/take bribes from the NRA/show your face all over town/with useless thoughts and prayers.” It pushed them into new territory and caused an uproar in America especially, as it was a commentary on how the liberal gun laws there produced an insanely high murder rate. The toothless political response stoked Gavin's outrage.
American lawmakers had condemned Rogue for intruding on an issue they said the Irish band had no right to engage in. The fact that Rogue was going to donate all of the single's proceeds to domestic violence support groups had somehow only inflamed the negative reaction. Music journalists had derided the band for taking this sudden turn toward a U2-like tone. Rogue had always stuck to matters of the heart before this, letting that other band take on the activist mantle. This song changed that.
But neither Gavin nor Conor let the bad press bother them. Martin followed Shay’s lead each show, performing the brooding song enthusiastically. Their fans had reluctantly warmed to it. The subject matter may have been a new direction, but the music was the same essential Rogue, with Shay and Martin combining to create a robust rhythm alongside Conor’s soaring guitar hooks, and Gavin’s slightly raspy and heartfelt vocals.
Ashley approached the table with three plates balanced in her hands, placing one in front of each man before going back to retrieve more. Martin kept his eyes on the table as she approached him from behind. As she served his omelet, she leaned over his shoulder and in doing so, her breast pressed against him. The feel of her firm, yet yielding, flesh made him tense against another unexpected response. Then her lips grazed his ear.
“Thank you,” she whispered so softly he wasn’t sure if he’d really heard her or if he imagined it. He did know that the sensuality of that brief, furtive interaction stirred him once more.
CHAPTER FIVE
The starting point for their hike at the Mount Tamalpais State Park was the Pantoll Campground. Ashley parked her car in the free lot and set out on a path she was obviously familiar with. Mt. Tam, as it was known to locals like Ashley, was a mixture of oak and redwood forests, open grasslands colored by wildflowers in late spring, and spectacular views of the rugged coastline. A short drive from congested San Francisco, the quiet trails offered a welcome sense of distance and serenity.
Though beautiful, it was already getting late in the day, and Martin realized as they made some headway into the hike that there were more people going in the opposite direction than along with them.
“How far are we going?” he asked.
“It’s a pretty short hike. We’re almost halfway to the beach,” Ashley said, keeping up a brisk pace.
“Does this level out?” Shay asked. They had been going uphill along the Matt Davis trail for almost the whole while.
“Yes, once we get to the ladder,” she replied.
“Ladder?” both Martin and Shay asked.
They soon found a ladder attached to moss-covered boulders alongside a rushing creek. They kept on and Martin realized Ashley had been right about the exercise clearing his head. Or at least allowing him to focus on something other than the probable demise of his marriage. The beauty of this trail overwhelmed everything else. He breathed deeply and let himself enjoy the air. It was sweet with a hint of salt water.
The ocean made a panoramic appearance as the woods opened up and the trail was bordered instead by chaparral and scrub. They all stopped to absorb the white-capped water from their vantage between Rocky Point and Red Rock Beach. The sky was mostly clear with only a few puffy white clouds, and the bright sunshine colored the cliffs along the coast a rich amber.
“We could go that way,” Ashley said, pointing to her right, “and check out Red Rock Beach before the tide comes up too high.”
“Yeah, sure,” Martin replied.
“Should we not head back before it gets too late?” Shay asked.
Ashley opened her arms wide and tilted her face to the sky with eyes closed. “We’ve got a couple hours before sunset. Just relax and be in the moment.”
Martin saw Shay smirk. Thankfully Shay kept his response to the no
t-so-friendly response. Shay hadn’t hidden the fact that his perception of Ashley changed for the worse ever since that breakfast. Whereas before he was both pleasant with her and pleased by her efforts, after seeing the way Martin came to her defense against James, he had been vocally skeptical of her, challenging her advice and suggestions on almost everything. It had been an unusual twist for Shay who had always been passive on a personal level, reserving his aggression for drumming. Martin hadn’t connected Shay’s reaction to his friend somehow seeing the danger Ashley posed. Because he hadn’t wanted to admit it himself, keeping himself in denial over what would happen by becoming close to Ashley.
There was nothing to do about any of that now, so the three of them crossed Highway 1 and went down to the secluded beach. They split up as they explored. Martin found two knotty pieces of driftwood worthy of keepsakes for his kids and kept up the search for one more. Maybe he could bring them out to this spot sometime. They’d love the adventure feel of it. Maybe even bring a picnic and make a day of it.
He stopped walking upon realizing that he hadn’t included Celia in envisioning this scenario. She was his wife of eleven years. How had it become his new normal to subtract her from his thoughts?
Ashley came up beside him, wrapping her hands around his bicep as she leaned into him. “I was right about this place, wasn’t I?”
He looked at her and felt the familiar pull of sexual attraction. The ocean breeze was even cooler with the sun starting to sink in the sky, and her body felt warm against his. God, the restraint he had shown all this time. And there had been chances to have his way with her. Many chances. Now she was looking at him with a playful half-smile, reading the desire in his eyes and reflecting it back at him.
“Best to get going, yeah?” Shay asked loudly.
Martin smiled ruefully. Well, he had brought Shay as a buffer, hadn’t he?
“Help me find one more of these,” Martin said, holding up the driftwood for Shay to see. The two of them set off together on the search. It took almost a half hour to find a suitable option.
“Grand. Let’s get back on our way,” Shay said.
“Wait, I want to show you guys the cabins over on the other side,” Ashley said. “The Park rents them out. They’re these rustic little places with the best view in the world, right on the cliffs overlooking the ocean.”
“Nah. It’s time to go,” Shay said. “Jess is coming back to have dinner with us.”
“Well, you could always just head over to Stinson Beach and catch an Uber if you’re anxious to get home,” Ashley said. “Martin and I could meet up with you in just a little while, after I show him the cabins.”
Shay, normally so good at hiding his emotions, showed his frustration at the idea of splitting up. “Come, Marty. Time to go. Maybe you and I get an Uber and Ashley can head home from here? It’s a better commute for her from these parts, yeah?”
Martin felt the same conflicting pull between his desires and his conscience that he’d felt for months.
“I don’t mind dropping you at Shay’s,” Ashley said. “Come on, we’re already here.”
“You’re right. Let’s take advantage,” Martin said.
Shay moved into his line of sight, in front of Ashley. “You’re sure, man?”
The deeper meaning was clear. The only thing Martin was sure of was that he knew that if he wanted, he could still resist the temptation that was Ashley. He had done so for months, without Shay’s intervention.
“Yeah, Shay, I’m good. I’ll see you back at your place. Not too far behind you, I’d guess.”
A soft scoff escaped Shay as he turned away and started toward the main beach where there would be more signs of life, like hotels and restaurants.
Ashley wrapped her hands around Martin’s bicep once more. She had started touching him this way once he’d developed real muscles, and even more once he had his right arm covered with the sleeve of tattoos. By now it felt normal to have this intimacy, and he let her lead him to their next destination.
They made it to the cabin area in time to watch the sunset. The wood structures were battered by the constant salt-water air, giving their rudimentary structure an even rougher appeal. There didn’t seem to be many occupants, nor park rangers to enforce whether they belonged, and they moved freely about before settling onto a spot of grass to watch the sky light up and then fade.
“Lovely,” Martin said.
Ashley made a murmur of agreement just as she nuzzled her face into his neck and inhaled. “You smell good,” she said.
She was always one for compliments. And he always enjoyed the flirt. Who wouldn’t like to be told they smelled good, or made a funny remark, or looked hot? He had as much ego as the next man. He had just ignored it for years because he was married to a woman he loved but who rarely praised him on anything to do with his physical appearance or personality. In fact, she had a habit of telling people—their kids’ teachers, fellow churchgoers, her friends, random shopkeepers—the same line that seemed to amuse her: “My Marty may have an extraordinary job, but he’s not an extraordinary man.”
“Don’t mind the sweat, then?” he asked with a laugh, the instinct for self-depreciation running deep.
Her response put a quick end to that. She stuck out her tongue and drew it up the length of his neck. “Hmm,” she half-moaned, “no, you know I like it when you sweat.”
Fuck me. And fuck her. Why not, already? Celia had sent him packing. He hadn’t cheated. He’d kept his marriage vows, and she’d still told him they needed a trial separation. So, if they were separated, didn’t that give him the freedom to do what he wanted? At last. To finally fucking do what he wanted?
He turned and in one swift movement cupped Ashley’s face in one hand and dug the fingers of his other hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, pressing his open mouth to hers. The connection was electric as she returned his kiss like she couldn’t get close enough to him. She alternated between sucking his tongue and slowly biting and kissing his lips. The sheer newness of this, of feeling nearly uncontrollable desire from the one he was with, made him rock hard.
That feeling only got worse when she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. When she rocked against him, he caught his breath with the intensity of the sensation. Fuck, she was going to make him come in his jeans at this rate.
“No, stay on the path. On the path, Bethany,” a curt voice said.
Martin wrapped his arm around Ashley’s waist to still her and they both looked at the bobbing flashlight ten yards ahead of them. A harried father was trying to corral a hyper toddler. They waited until the pair had gone well past them before laughing softly at the disruption.
“Let’s see if we can get into one of the empty cabins,” Ashley said.
“Maybe we should head back,” Martin replied.
She kissed him firmly while pressing her crotch harder against him. “Only if we can’t find an open cabin.”
Martin stood back to keep watch as Ashley checked the darkened cabins. The first two were locked and he breathed a sigh of relief at the news, still not sure he was ready to do this. Sleeping with Ashley would change everything for his marriage. It wouldn’t be something he could undo.
“Third one’s the charm!” she said with delight as she opened the next cabin door. It creaked on its rusty hinges and she disappeared inside.
It was colder inside the spare cabin than it was outside. Lit only by moonlight, he could see that there were two wooden bunks, a wooden table, and a wood-burning fireplace. Using his phone’s flashlight, he saw that there was still a half-burnt log abandoned in the fireplace. If they were going to spend anytime there, they might as well get a little help with heat they didn’t generate themselves.
“Where are you going?” Ashley asked when he headed back toward the door.
“To find something to get the fire going.”
She smiled, amused. “That’s very outdoorsy of you, but I have a lighter.”
“Grand.�
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He shone his flashlight for her as she searched the small backpack she’d brought. She retrieved a red plastic lighter along with a fat joint. That would do.
CHAPTER SIX
They sat together on the cold, dusty, plank flooring in front of the fire, watching its red-gold flames flicker as they passed the joint between them. The wood smoke and the weed commingled to make a pleasant aroma.
“So, tell me something,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“How hard are you going to fuck me?”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was the marijuana. Or maybe, really, it was a woman talking dirty to him like that. Celia had never done that. Sure, he’d seen enough porn to get the idea. Hell, he’d heard both Conor and Gavin propositioned with far more explicit language countless times over the years by shameless groupies and the like. But hearing a woman talk that way to him was completely foreign. It came off as a novelty rather than sexy.
“Oh, I see,” she said and took a long drag on the joint.
“You see what?”
She eyed him for a long moment, turned her head to exhale, and then nodded. “It’s what I thought. You need me to fuck you.”
“Ash—”
“Don’t worry. I don’t mind.” She handed him the almost dead blunt and unzipped the thin hoodie she wore. Beneath it was a bra top that was straining to contain her breasts. They were natural, he knew, and once she pulled the top off over her head, he also saw that they were remarkably smooth and beautifully shaped. Her light brown nipples, one pierced with a small silver barbell that glinted in the moonlight, were rigid with the cold. Or excitement, he realized.
He sucked hard on the joint, getting the last of it before grinding it out.
“Take off your shirt,” she told him.
Pulling his shirt over his head, he tossed it to the side and watched as she looked at him. Her hungry eyes traveled over the colorful tattoos covering the right side of his lower neck, shoulder, and down to his wrist. Then her gaze fell upon the bulge in his pants before moving upward, taking in the rigid muscles of his abs and pecs. She had made this version of him, and he realized she must take some satisfaction in that. He’d become someone women looked at, an object of desire, for the first time in his life thanks to her. She had become one of those women who desired him.
Finding Rhythm Page 3