“Yeah,” I snort, giggling as I hit the kitchen and grab another cup of much needed coffee. “He actually hid away in his study last night, waiting for me to fall asleep. He almost had a heart attack when I popped out of the bathroom as soon as he snuck into the room. I almost wet my pants at the horror on his face.”
“I’ll bet. Did you wear those jammies we gave you?”
“No! Stop talking about this right now, or I’m hanging up the phone,” Cammy groans, sensing another sex talk in the making.
I’m a little relieved at her yelling when it stops the conversation and we move on to other topics. How am I supposed to admit that I’d taken pity on the poor man and all but tucked him in when I’d seen the dark circles beneath his eyes?
My own vagina had also needed some much deserved rest, so I’d fallen into bed and gone straight to sleep, a satisfied smile rimming my lips.
“So can I stop being a Stepford wife now? Please? I’m in the middle of this great romance book that I’ve been putting off since I started baking for the entire state. And I’m tired of being nice all the time. It’s not my style.”
“Yeah, we know,” they say in unison, their sniggers making me breathe deeply just to prove them wrong.
“Okay, Ash, you can stop being nice and go back to your normal crabby self. Just remember the rules. No feelingsy talk with your guy, and be as accommodating as possible whenever he’s around.”
I can do that. I like being free to jump him whenever I want, without the pressure they’ve been putting on me lately. Plus I’d really like for Ben to stop locking his door at night.
I think he’s a little afraid of me since I did my three-sixty personality turn and really don’t like seeing him scuttle around me or jump whenever I enter a room.
“I gotta go, bitches, early court date.”
“See ya.”
“See ya.”
“See ya.”
At the end I’m left with Cammy and her familiar questions about the past that Luc and I share. I haven’t said anything up to this point because I haven’t wanted to ruin things with the feelings that memories bring, but I know she won’t stop till she gets what she wants. Her obsession with Brody has proven that, so I buckle a little and give her a little taste.
“When he came over here on that exchange program, we had a…thing. We sorta fell for each other.”
Oh, and what a blissful fall that had been. I can still remember his eyes and the quick smiles he’d had for me. And the way we’d kissed, as if we were starved for each other…hot, hot, hot, even seven years later.
“Oookay. So then why the coldness when you met again?”
This is the hard part, the part that shames me and makes me so livid I can’t stand to breathe when I remember.
“He saw me talking to an ex. Chris’s mom and dad had been going through a divorce and he needed a shoulder to lean on. Lucian went nuts when he saw me hugging him, and, well…Chris might have gotten the wrong idea about things, but—”
“Love! Where are you?”
“Oh, crap. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
Disconnecting the call, I shuffle out of the kitchen just as he’s coming my way, my coffee forgotten the minute I see his face and the spellbinding smile he’s wearing.
“You just left.”
“And now I’m back,” he purrs, grabbing my left hand to slide something onto my finger.
“You got it back!” I whisper, all teary-eyed and soft when my ring slides into place and winks back up at me like it’s come back home or something.
I can’t believe I’ve missed the old boulder so much, but I know I do when I get all choked up about it.
“Yes. Frank found it in a pawn shop in Austin. That’s in Texas,” he clarifies, and I roll my eyes at him.
“I know where Austin is, douchebag. I’m not brainless,” I grouch, checking my ring for scratches and chips.
Seems almost as perfect as I remember, so I give up my thoughts of finding Wesley to cut his ass to ribbons.
My words, instead of offending him, make him pause before a huge grin appears, and I find myself pulled up and into his broad chest, my breasts and everything below mashed into his hard body.
“What did you just say?”
“I know where Austin is?” I breathe, losing focus as my eyes catch sight of his lush lips and the tongue I want licking my lips.
“The other part, love,” he murmurs, bringing me so close I feel our breaths mingle.
“I’m not brainless?”
“Try again.”
I want to giggle as I say the next words when I realize what he’s looking for.
“Douchebag.”
“Ah, that’s the one, love.” He chuckles before shoving a hand through my hair to pull me in to his mouth.
The kiss he gives me is an inferno of passion and so intense I feel moisture slide between my legs without any extra stimulation but that of his mouth devouring mine.
I’m so hot and ready by the time he pulls his mouth back that I’m willing to beg him to stay instead of going back to work.
“Are you okay now, love? No more strange behavior and trying to sex the life out of me?”
I blush when he grins and pushes himself closer, taking the sting of his words away by showing me how much he wants me.
“Fine, but don’t complain when you don’t like what I’m saying,” I warn, reaching up to plant a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin beneath his ear.
The action sends shivers through him and I push closer, wanting more than the meeting of our mouths.
Lucky for me, he pushes back and sets me away with a groan, because no matter how resolved I think I am, I’m feeling so much right now I can’t be sure I won’t do or say anything to give my feelings away.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go,” he mutters, kissing me once, hard, before turning on his heel and striding out the door.
“Love? Wear the black tonight, would you!”
And then he’s gone. Leaving me grinning and more than a little relieved for this reprieve. I need to get myself in line before he comes home, and I need to do it fast.
It’s only when I’m pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee that I realize I never asked how they’d found the ring or what, if they’d found Wesley too, they had done with him.
I guess I must not care as much as I would have in my previous life. That makes me happy, and a little sad, because while I’d been enraged and disappointed in him, I never thought I’d get to the point that my own…father…would mean less than nothing to me.
Chapter Twenty Two
Luc
“What the fuck do you mean? He’s not a sodding ghost, Ivan!”
“Aye, boy, but this damned country is so big and full of Americans I canna get a lead on the bloke. I picked his trail up in Texas for ya, and that’s as far as he got before he disappeared. He’s got a couple thousand in his pocket and is close enough to the border that I canna but guess he’s going south, if he hasna already.”
I blow out a hard breath and lean back in my chair, replaying this morning in a loop that makes me want to grin and shout with joy. I have my love back, well, in part at least, but I have no doubt that she’ll be back to her old self and loving me in no time.
I’m actually anticipating it at the moment. I’ve waited seven years for this moment, and despite my earlier misstep, I have not a worry in the world as far as that’s concerned.
I am by no means a cruel man, but I need her love the way I’d needed my first million: with a desperation that leaves me sweating and filled with hopeful anticipation.
Now, don’t mistake me: I have no intention of ever feeling those things, not ever again, but I’m a man, and I need to have that security of knowing my woman is emotionally dependent upon me.
“Are ya gonna answer the bloody question then, lad?” Ivan demands, bringing me back to the present.
“What?”
“Are ya afeared the man w
ill go after the lass again?”
“No. He only took her to scare us, nothing more. He’ll stay away from her and the lad from now on, since he’s a bleeding coward. No, my need to find him has nothing to do with the safety of my family.”
Ivan nods and grins, stroking a hand through his bright orange beard. I don’t understand why the Scot has always grown the monstrosity that thick, not with that bright tinge making him look like he’s been having a go at a bloody pumpkin patch.
“Ya plan to return the favor, do ya? Good lad. Now then, I think I’ll get back to work looking for that piece of rubbish,” he mutters, heaving himself to his feet.
Ivan McDonnell may not be buff or young, but the man has the nose of a blood hound, and I know I can count on him to get this job done.
Like I said, I’m not worried about that bastard coming near my family again, but I will not let this rest till I’ve taken a decent strip off his hide in payment for the hurt he caused my love.
“Call me when you have something.”
“Aye.”
As soon as I’m alone I dial Frank and get my mid-morning update on my girl, half groaning when he informs me she’s eating lunch with her newest friends, a set of women I have no personal objection to but have the feeling might be more of a bad influence than I’d like.
“What are they doing then?”
“They’re—ahem —they’re looking at some stuff,” he says uncomfortably, clearing his throat a few times.
“Just spit it out, man,” I mutter, though I have a rather good idea of what they’re doing to make my unflappable security captain so uncomfortable.
“Intimate paraphernalia.”
Aaah.
“Sex toys? Does she look even halfway interested?” I ask, wondering if she’d be into that sort of thing.
I have no objection to people using these things, mind you, I just have never had the need to sublimate my performance with aids. The thought of Ash thinking we need these things makes me a bit green, and a lot bloody annoyed, if you want the truth.
“Naw, she’s giving the big purple thing the evil eye, and I think I heard her say it’d be a cold day in hell and that you sure didn’t need it. Jesus, half those things look like they’d hurt, not add to the, ahem, pleasure.”
I almost crow with pride at that and spend the next two minutes torturing Frank by asking a few rather uncomfortable questions just to get a rise out of him.
“They’re done looking, and now they’re going into some sorta huddle. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but from the looks of things those girls are going intense about something.”
“I’ll bet. They’re friends of Cammy’s, so the whole lot of them are probably barmy loons.”
“Yeah, well, these ‘barmy loons’ are the hottest bunch of gals I’ve ever laid eyes on, that’s for sure. At least they seem to be having a good time. Want me to stay on Mrs Jasper?”
“No. Let her have her fun. You can collect Benjamin from school and take him on to his football practice.”
“Soccer.”
“Football,” I say before hanging up to dial my love’s number.
“Good afternoon, love. What are you up to?” I purr, letting her hear the smile in my voice.
“Uh, I’m having lunch?”
I want to laugh at the way she phrases things when she’s trying not to lie. That’s how I’ve always known she’s telling the truth. If Ash tells you straight you know it’s the honest answer; if she phrases her answers as questions, she’s trying to fudge or lie by omission.
She’d once told me that that way she’s not lying, just planting a suggestion and letting people believe what they want.
“Oh yes? And what have you been talking about?”
She splutters something, and I hear a round of high-pitched, feminine laughter before she wheezes and throws a few choice curses at her friends.
“Uh, we were looking at these, um, sex toys that Brit is writing web content for,” she admits, making my eyes narrow and my smile fade.
I know my love, and if she’s willingly telling me about something I know mortifies her, I’d willingly bet one of my companies that whatever they’ve been discussing is not something she wants me to know.
That just makes me all the more curious, desperately curious, to weed out all her secrets. I sigh instead and drop it for now, forming my strategy even as we speak.
“I just called to let you know Frank will collect Benjamin from school, so you don’t have to rush away just yet.”
“Thanks, Lucian, I was actually just about to leave, but now I can stay for dessert. We’re trying to give Cam a pep talk, so….”
“Tell Cammy that unless she wants to be attending Brody’s wedding soon, she should make her move and get rid of that model he’s been screwing. Bye, love.”
I hear her squeal something just as I put the phone down, and grin when the man himself comes storming into my office and throws himself into a seat, his hands scrubbing harshly at his messy hair.
“You gotta tell her to stop, man. Ariana broke up with me last night because she thinks I’m in a committed relationship with that lunatic.”
“That lunatic happens to be my little sister, I’ll thank you to remember.”
I don’t tell him that Cammy had nothing to do with Ariana’s defection or that all it had taken for her to drop him that fast had been a quarter of a million and a good word to a designer I’ve known since uni.
Yes, I’ve done my brotherly best to ensure that my spoilt little miss gets her heart’s desire. I may not believe in love, but I know what it’s like to be obsessed with something you don’t think you’ll ever have.
So I’ve provided some assistance.
“Luc, man, you’ve gotta tell her to stop.”
“You gave her false hope by having dinner at her place.”
Brody blanches and looks away, blowing out a frustrated breath.
“You want her, Brody. Anyone with eyes can bloody well see it. Why not take the plunge and try?” I ask, willing him to choose his words carefully.
He’s my best friend, but that certainly won’t stop me from employing the fighting skills I’d picked up from a friend’s brother who’d lived in a rather dodgy part of London.
“Luc, she wants marriage and babies and the whole shebang. Like, now. I don’t think I’m ready for all that yet.”
“Well, bloody get ready then, you sod. You’re twenty-five, not a bleeding puppy anymore. There are worse things than having a wife and children at your age, mate. You could be alone.”
Shit, I can’t even believe I’ve gone and said something so completely honest that not even I can escape it.
The words make Brody smile, one of those shit-eating grins that make me want to get back to settling my problems with my fists instead of my intellect.
“Take some of that sterling advice and put it to good use, will ya, and maybe I’ll consider giving in with Cam.”
“Sod off and get back to bloody work, you sly bugger.”
He laughs as he’s leaving, the sound rivalled only by my own chuckles as I scratch my head and start thinking of what I’d done to bring me to this point since the moment I’d divorced my ex-wife to come and find my Ashley.
With the memories comes the familiar ache that seems to flood my lungs with pain, but for once I push past it and allow the feelings in, shoving at my natural need to avoid as I close my eyes and remember the first time I laid eyes on her.
The first time I fell in love.
Chapter Twenty Three
“Cammy called and told me that Brody asked her out on a date.”
I’m saying this as I spread that expensive moisturizer all over my arms, legs, and face as Lucian reclines on the bed, his gaze distant, as if he’s far away and lost in thought.
When he doesn’t respond to that little tidbit I frown and crawl onto the mattress, getting closer and watching his eyes for long seconds. This is so unlike the usually hawk-eyed stare I’m usually
squirming beneath that I actually check his chest to make sure he’s still breathing.
Yup.
“Uh, Luc, are you okay?”
My voice seems to snap him out of it, and he looks back at me, smiling in a way I’ve never seen before. Like maybe he likes me a little more than he did when we met again.
Go Goldens!
If this plan of theirs works, it looks like I may not be the only pathetic, lovesick loser in this relationship.
“Lucian, are you feeling okay?” I ask, resting on my haunches beside his hip. “You look a little out of it.”
“I’m fine, love, just had a really long day,” he murmurs, pulling me down onto his chest.
I sigh and rest my head beneath his chin, softly stroking his smooth skin as I wait for him to elaborate. Sometimes he’s the most closed off person I’ve ever met, and at others—with Ben—he’s the nicest, most affectionate dictator.
I wish he’d let me in more and share his troubles, maybe give me a chance to return the comfort he’d offered after I’d crawled through those dark woods…
“Benjamin has a match tomorrow, and I’ve got a late meeting I can’t reschedule,” he finally says, changing the subject.
“He’ll understand, Lucian. He’s not a baby.”
I hope. As far as I can tell Ben seems to think Luc hangs the moon and stars. The kid sees Luc as his father or something, even if he still thinks of me as his insufferable older sister and still won’t let me hug him, no matter how patient I’ve been on that score.
“I’m going, so that should be okay for him.”
His eyes and the curl of his lip tell me exactly how great my little bro will feel about a pesky girl attending his soccer match.
“No offense, love, but what you know about football is completely tragic, and the lad knows it. I feel terrible about this.”
Yeah, well, not as terrible as feeling like the dreaded third wheel on this tandem bike the two of them have going. Geez, you’d think I’m nothing more than the hired help for all the attention they pay me when they start talking sports.
Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1) Page 62