by Lucy Score
They lingered over coffee and shared a piece of peanut butter pie enjoying the ocean view. “After Friday, I didn’t think I’d ever feel anything but angry again. And yet here I am licking chocolate syrup off my plate.” She ran her finger across the remains of an artful swirl and popped it into her mouth. “Yum.”
Jason was watching her. “How do you feel now?”
She was still angry. She was still attracted to Jason. And she still didn’t trust him. Either she was already gun shy or there was something there that she just wasn’t seeing, yet. Overall, the edge of adrenaline that fury gave her had faded, leaving her drained.
“Tired,” she sighed.
“That’s understandable.” His gaze held.
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking and I feel like I should.”
“Do you really want to know what I’m thinking?”
“I may regret this, but yes.”
“I’m thinking that Steven is an idiot.”
Ashley sighed and quietly savored the last sip of her wine.
The dishes were cleared, and the restaurant was slowly emptying when their waiter approached with the bill.
“Folks if you’re not in a hurry, we’re doing a little bonfire down by the water.” He pointed to the beach where there was already a handful of diners and staff clustered around the beginnings of a fire.
“Do you have time?” Jason eyed her across the table.
Ashley raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s always time for a beach bonfire.”
Jason opened his wallet and handed over a credit card. “Put a bottle of what the lovely lady is drinking on the bill and we’ll take it with us.”
“Certainly, sir!”
“Let’s go to a bonfire.”
Wine and plastic cups in hand, they wandered off the deck and down the wooden stairs to the sand. They took off their shoes as the other guests had and wandered down the path through the dunes. The night’s cool, salty air teased goose bumps from Ashley’s skin. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. Jason draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side.
She welcomed the warmth as they walked.
The dunes gave way to a sandy beach with a throng of locals loosely ringing the now crackling bonfire.
Jason steered her closer and set the wine down in the sand. He turned her to face it. Ashley closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the heat surrounding her. Flames to the front and a smoldering man behind her. Was there a better place to be?
Safer, yes. But better?
He draped his jacket over her shoulders.
“Better?”
Ashley nodded and snuggled deeper into the jacket. She knew she was being seduced. And she knew she should put a stop to it. But knowing didn’t always translate to doing.
“The stars are coming out,” he said quietly.
Ashley followed his gaze to the inky blue night sky, dotted with hundreds of pinpoints of light.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
She turned toward him and stopped. He wasn’t looking at the sky. He was watching her.
Ashley moved away. Self-preservation, she thought. “It looks like we get dinner and a show.”
Off the clock now, their waiter had joined the small group with guitar in hand and the willowy hostess in tow.
They plopped down on a log near the fire. When he started quietly strumming, she dropped her head to his shoulder and wiggled closer.
“Now that surprises me,” Jason laughed.
“Oh not me. Even without the bad boy part of the image, ‘musician’ still carries a lot of weight.”
Ashley sank down on a makeshift bench of driftwood and stretched her legs out toward the fire.
Jason retrieved the wine and joined her. She pulled his jacket a little tighter around her. Expertly, he pulled the cork from the bottle and poured.
“Did you ever date a musician?”
Ashley sighed. “No. But I wanted to. Or an artist.”
He handed her a cup. “Why not an accountant or a podiatrist?”
“An accountant isn’t going to be so overwhelmed with passion for you that he has to capture your essence in a painting or a song.”
“‘Capture your essence?’ You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Jason teased.
“It’s a girl thing. We are excellent at fantasy.”
The waiter’s chords slowly turned into a loose, acoustic version of “Louie Louie.”
Ashley hummed along. Others around them whispered quietly in cozy twosomes or laughed in cozy groups.
“Thank you for dinner, Jason.”
“My pleasure,” he glanced toward the sky again. “I know what I’m asking you to do isn’t easy.”
“Well, if it weren’t for you, I might not even know that I’m engaged to a liar and a cheater.”
“I’m don’t know if I should say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘You’re welcome.’”
“Both seem appropriate.”
“It’s going to be OK, Ashley. I promise you.”
She nodded. It would be. Somehow.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Surrounded by the sounds of fire and waves. The wine slowly eased tension out of her body.
Ashley caught the first few chords of “Moon River.”
“I love this song. It always makes me think of Audrey Hepburn on the fire escape.”
“What was she doing on the fire escape?”
“You’ve never seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” Aghast, Ashley clapped her hands to her heart. “You poor, deprived man.”
“How about a dance with a poor, deprived man?” He stood, gracefully, and held out a hand to her.
Ashley glanced around. What the hell? When else was she going to get the chance to dance to “Moon River” barefoot on a beach with a man as intoxicating as Jason? She put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.
His arm slid around her waist pulling her close. Ashley let herself melt against him. Solid, warm, strong. Jason’s hand splayed across her back, not allowing an inch of freedom between their bodies.
Somewhere down the beach a fireworks show was starting. Ashley saw an orange starburst join the stars in the sky before shimmering back down to earth.
“This is our second dance. Practically our second date,” he said quietly as he tilted his head down toward hers. An invitation.
“What’s your game?” she breathed, studying his eyes.
“Why does there have to be a game?”
“I can’t read you. You’re so ... reserved. I’m not used to having to guess how someone is feeling.”
“There’s no game.” He stopped the gentle sway of their bodies, holding her solidly against him. “And this is what I’m feeling.” He lowered his mouth in an achingly slow pursuit.
Ashley had time to stop him. To play it safe. But she wanted to know what it would feel like. Just once. To be the object of his desire. To have this first kiss.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she drew in his breath as his lips met hers. Jason closed his hand around her neck, his thumb forcing her chin up higher, and he deepened the kiss on her sigh.
His tongue met hers in a silky dance. A breathy moan escaped her throat, catching them both by surprise. Jason’s hand tightened on her neck and his tongue drove into her mouth. This time it wasn’t a dance. It was possession.
Ashley could do nothing but open for him and hold on to his shirt for dear life. He drew back a fraction of an inch, dragging his teeth over her lower lip on a low growl. Her knees buckled a half second before the boom of the fireworks echoed off the beach.
He steadied her, dropping his forehead to hers. Ashley was relieved to find his breathing as shallow as her own. Slowly, she loosened her grip on his shirt and smoothed the wrinkles. Afraid to make eye contact. What would she see? Her own desire mirrored, or something more ... calculating? He was like an enemy, testing her weak spots until there was no defense left.
In her heart, she knew she couldn’t hold her
own. He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t malleable. She could lose herself to those green eyes.
This pursuit, however thrilling, could destroy her.
“Wow,” she whispered, and stepped back to put a little space between them.
“Yeah.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Wow.”
They sat down in silence.
Jason was the first to break. “That was ... unexpected.”
Ashley nodded in agreement. “That’s a good word for it.”
“You know there’s no turning back now. You can’t expect to feel that and then pretend it never happened.”
Ashley picked up her wine. “Please don’t try to rationalize anything when my brain is mush.”
“Rationalize this. I want you. I want to kiss you like that again. I want to peel your clothes off layer by layer until you are completely naked. And then I want to touch every inch of you.”
“Jason —”
“I want to be inside you and feel you —”
Ashley slapped a hand over his mouth. “For the love of God, please don’t finish that sentence.”
He dragged her hand down. “I can’t make my intentions any clearer that that.”
“I’m confused. Do you want me to spy on my fiancé or get naked with you?”
“Both. I thought that was obvious.”
“I just don’t see how those two relationships can co-exist.”
“Ashley, you can have anything you want in this life.”
“I’m pretty sure I can have anything just not everything.”
“Lets find out.”
He cupped her face and leaned in again. This time soft, sweet. His mouth gently explored hers while his thumbs brushed her jawline.
She opened for him just as she knew she would. It was inevitable.
When his tongue brushed hers, Ashley felt herself sigh.
The crackle of the fire and his touch warmed her skin.
This was what she craved. Connection. Heat. Lust.
“Jason.” She whispered his name against his mouth. “I need to think. About this.”
“About us,” he clarified.
She nodded. “About us.”
“Don’t think too long.”
“How can you be so sure about this?”
“I know what I want.” Jason shifted and drew her into his side. “And what I want is you.”
“But for what? Besides sex. Unless it’s just sex.”
“I think sex is a fine place to start,” he said, rubbing her arm through the jacket. “But it’s not the only thing I have in mind.”
“A relationship?” Her eyebrows skyrocketed.
“You look surprised, and not very pleased. Who would have thought just sex would be the less offensive an idea?”
“I’m not offended, just ... skeptical.”
“Let me make this as clear as possible so you don’t have to overanalyze anything. I like you. I want you. And I don’t share.”
Share? Ashley took a moment to picture him sleeping with her on a Tuesday and then someone else — probably an incredibly tall, stacked exotic beauty with a PhD — on a Wednesday.
“Fair enough. I still need some time to think. Sex and relationships are two things I don’t jump into.”
“I’m feeling generous. Take a minute to think about how good it will feel when I slide my hands down —”
Ashley covered his mouth again. “Believe me when I say I’ll be thinking of little else. Now shut up.”
His eyes glinted and she felt his lips curve against her palm. He kissed her hand before taking it in his. “I really do like you.”
“I kind of like you, too, Jason. Even though I’ll probably live to regret it.”
They stayed for a while longer, talking quietly and listening to the music and when it was time to go Ashley palmed the cork and slid it into her bag. No matter what happened, tonight was worth remembering.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ashley stayed in bed until Steven left Monday morning as much to avoid talking to him as to cling to the sweet dreams she’d had through night. She may be a woman scorned, but she was also a woman desired.
And that did something to keep her from being eaten alive by anger. Vengeance also helped.
In the bathroom, she spotted Steven’s new watch under a hand towel. She picked it up to admire the face again. Only Steven would leave a $10,000 watch carelessly shoved under a wet towel.
Her fingers skimmed across something on the back. She flipped the watch over and spotted the engraving. It was just a single initial in a stylized script. V.
It was time to start digging.
First things first. Ashley poured herself a giant mug of coffee and surveyed her living space from the kitchen.
Steven’s “office” was set up in the corner, a disorganized mess of wires, electronics, and dirty dishes. When Ashley had first moved in with him, she fell for the “too busy to clean up” excuse for the first month before she realized he was just a slob. A dirty, teenage boy of a slob.
She would start there in the midst of the mess. She gave herself three hours to snoop before getting ready for the closing shift at work.
There was a TV and gaming console crowding a smoked glass stand. A cursory glance told her there was likely nothing but games and movies on the shelves beneath. Steven had a desktop computer tucked into the corner on a desk littered with papers and takeout containers.
Ashley restrained herself from tossing a week-old Chinese box into the trash and sank down in the desk chair. She didn’t want to make it look like she had been snooping, but she was going to have to go through everything piece by piece and put everything back in its chaotic place.
She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of the desk from multiple angles. Satisfied that she would be able to put everything back in approximately the right place, she dug in. Takeout containers were moved to a stack on the floor. Junk mail went in another. Papers that could be interesting went into a third.
She paused every few minutes to snap a picture of the newest layer of debris.
From what she could tell there wasn’t anything of investigative value besides a few alarmingly high credit card balances — thank God she wasn’t marrying that — and a paper copy of his college fraternity newsletter upon which he had sketched Hitler mustaches and penises on the alumni pictures.
Finally reaching the top of the desk, Ashley slowly rebuilt her piles.
She wasn’t even sure what, if anything, she would find. She kicked back in the chair and savored the last sip of coffee. How dumb was he?
Extremely. Life-threateningly.
The memory of “helping him” through their bio course in college came to mind. “Babe, just let me sit next to you during the test. You know I don’t do well with exams. Oh, hey, can you write up this lab for me, too?”
She snorted to no one. “Victoria has no idea what she’s getting.”
Ashley knew better than anyone how good Steven looked on paper versus in reality.
She shook it off. It was better to find this out now than to be a complete idiot herself and marry the asshole.
Her eyes landed on the desktop monitor. “Check his computer for emails, browsing history, anything you can think of,” Jason had told her.
She jiggled the mouse and the screensaver of the new Jaguar model dissipated into a password screen.
She held her breath. He had had the same password since college and used it for everything, but wouldn’t he be more careful now that he was up to something?
Password123.
Nope. Not more careful at all.
Access granted, Ashley surveyed the desktop icons. Nothing was labeled Corporate Secrets or Insider Trading or Having an Affair.
She took the tiny flash-drive-looking device that Jason had given her and plugged it in. It was only a slight circumvent of the law. The deal was she would do a cursory scan while imaging the hard drive. Jason would run a deeper search on it and point her in the direction of any
suspicious files or emails so she could “discover” them herself.
There were hundreds of messages that dated back three years. Apparently Steven had never thought to clean out his inbox. Ashley rolled her shoulders and dug in. There were messages from his football fantasy league from two years ago, dozens and dozens of Amazon order confirmations, and too many email chains from his fraternity brothers to count.
She decided to focus on messages from the past six months first, and if she came up empty, she would tackle older ones. Wishing she could organize as she went, Ashley settled for opening the preview pane and skimming.
After half an hour of fruitless skimming, she finally stumbled across an email that stood out. It was from February.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Great running into you Friday. It’s always awesome to see a brother in our natural habitat (bar). Let me know if you want to hang out. It’ll be like old times. Well, if they let junior CPAs leave the office during tax season. And as if tax season isn’t bad enough, now we’ve got this extra work piled on for the next few months. Things were a lot easier when we were in school and pledges to do all the work.
Phil Barden
Phil Barden was one of Steven’s fraternity brothers. He graduated two years ahead of Steven and Ashley only knew Phil from when he returned to campus for Homecoming and Alumni Weekends.
She frowned. If Steven had run into Phil, he hadn’t mentioned it to her and that in itself was strange. She grabbed her phone and opened Facebook. The Alpha Gamma brothers of Chapter Theta were diligent about updating their Facebook page with “small world” photos of their run-ins with other alumni.
She scrolled back through the page’s posts to February but didn’t find a picture or a post of Steven or Phil.
Interesting. It was possible — in fact the odds were highly in favor — that Steven just forgot to mention the run in to her. Or that he was too drunk to remember even running into Phil. But something felt weird to her.
She clicked on Phil’s Facebook profile. It was set to private so she only saw a few pictures of him at the beach and a football game. She switched back to Steven’s computer and brought up LinkedIn.
Philip Barden was a junior accountant at a big accounting firm downtown where he had been for the past four years. Not much suspicious about being an accountant, Ashley mused. From what she remembered, Phil was a pretty benign guy. He didn’t seem like the type to get embroiled in legal scandals.