“Some kinda good luck,” I mumble as we head back to our table.
This time I won’t let her sit across from me. I want her right fucking next to me, within distance if I want to put my hands on her. If I’m reading the situation right, she wants this too. Grabbing her hand as we cross the now, partially full pub, I pull her down next to me. “Another one?” Our waitress asks.
We look at one another, holding each other’s gazes for what feels like an eternity. In hers, I see all the things I’ve wanted for the last few years, in hers I see hope. “I shouldn’t,” she shakes her head. “I’m walking home…” she trails off.
“I’ll make sure you get there safe,” I put my hand on her thigh under the table, squeezing it slightly through her jeans. “Bring us both one more and the tab.”
“Tonight’s been fun,” she leans in close for me to be able to hear her.
The place has gotten louder as it’s filled more with people, and the music has cranked up. I lean in closer to her too. My gaze taking in the way her shirt has slipped down slightly in the front, showing a glimpse of lace probably belonging to her bra. “It has been, thanks for coming out with me.”
Our waitress drops off our beers and the check. Once I take my hand from her thigh so I can grab my cash out of my wallet, I watch as she situates herself. She crosses those legs of hers then turns her body into mine.
“Thanks for inviting me, Ash,” she licks her lips. My eyes follow the path they take. “I was afraid I would have no chill with you since I wanted you to ask me out in high school,” she giggles. “But I haven’t been nervous like I thought I would be.”
Putting my hand back on her thigh, I turn so that I’m facing her too. It gives me a little more room in my jeans, I’ve been half hard all goddamn night. “I’m glad. There’s no reason to be nervous around me. If anyone should be, it’s me. It’s embarrassing how many dates I’ve had since my divorce.”
“You’re a single dad,” she argues.
“I am, and I don’t like for other people to watch Syd. She went through a period where he didn’t want me out of her sight,” I wince, thinking back a few years. “Luckily she’s gotten out of that. She would cry every time I left her at my parents to go to work, afraid I wouldn’t come back.”
“Because of your job?”
“No,” I find myself telling this woman the truth. There’s something about the brightness of her eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks, the way she’s listened to me all night. Admittedly I haven’t had a whole lot of attention focused on just me in the last few years. “She thought I would leave her just like Courtney did,” I sigh. “You have to understand, for Syd, it was like her mom was there one day, and then the next she was gone. She didn’t know we argued for months before we filed for divorce. She was way too little to know, but she felt it when Courtney left. Hell, we both did.”
* * *
Emma
I can’t help but ask the next question that comes spewing out of my mouth. “Do you miss her?”
Ash is quiet for longer than I like, but I do respect the way he ponders the question, and when he answers I hang on to the reply hoping that he doesn’t.
“That’s a complicated question. She’s the mother of my daughter,” he takes another drink of his beer, rubbing his palm against my thigh. “But no, I don’t miss her. What I do miss is a partner. Somebody who’s always in my corner. When I’m tired at night, they can take over for the bedtime routine. Somebody I can snuggle against after a long shift. Just having a teammate. That shit means a lot,” he shakes his head. “And you don’t realize how much you miss it until it’s gone.”
I bite my lip and respond carefully. “You’d be surprised how many people want to help you.”
“Oh, I know they do. There are a lot of single mom’s at Syd’s school who constantly offer to help,” he laughs. “But none of them have interested me as much as you.”
His dark eyes meet mine. Usually, I’d look away because it’s an intense gaze, but I don’t this time. Call it liquid courage, call it whatever you want, but I’m sick of being the girl who looks away. “What got you interested?”
“I’ve been interested for a while but seeing you dressed like you were the other day. Seeing you be comfortable in your own skin, and that hair,” he tugs at the ends. “I don’t know, the time was right.”
The time was right, I’m not sure I would have taken his number before that day, and honestly, I can’t say what was different. Maybe it was me, perhaps it was him, but I’m glad he left the phone number on his receipt. “The time was right,” I agree, letting him know what I’m thinking.
“I’m glad I didn’t misjudge it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t either.”
We lapse into silence. On instinct, I lean my head over onto his shoulder. It’s natural and comfortable, feels like we’ve been doing it for years. He throws his arm around my neck, and I feel his lips at my forehead. “You tired, Em?”
“Yeah,” I admit, even though I don’t want to. I’d like for this night to go on forever.
“Let me walk you home,” he stands, helping me up with him.
“You don’t have to,” I start to protest.
His voice is low as he puts his finger under my chin, tilting it up, so I look at him. “I want to.”
And with those words, I can’t help the way butterflies dance in my stomach.
“Do you like working at Bridget’s and the library?” He asks as we walk to my house.
It’s hard for me to think with his thumb rubbing against my bare skin. I had gloves, and I probably should have put them on, but I wanted to feel his skin against mine too much. “Yeah, I mean they aren’t exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life, but for now it’s okay.”
“What would you want to do?”
This is kind of uncomfortable for me because no one has ever asked me what I want to do. There is one thing I do though, in my spare time that I absolutely love. “I make cupcakes, but they’re intricate. I make them look like bouquets of flowers,” I shyly tell him. Even with the liquid courage, it’s hard, to be honest. “I have an Instagram that’s pretty popular, right now I take custom orders, but I don’t really promote myself much.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “It’s an extravagance for most people. They cost around seven dollars a piece because they take me so much time to make. I don’t push them here because most everyone is broke until tourist season hits in the summer. I thought about pushing them hard this summer. I’ve spent a lot of time honing my craft.”
Reaching into my pocket, I grab my phone, pull up my Instagram page and show it to him.
“Wow Em, these are gorgeous.”
We’ve reached my apartment, and I’m standing with my back to my door. “Thanks, you’re the first person I’ve ever shown them to besides Sabrina.”
He tilts his head as his gaze locks on me. “Why haven’t you shown them to anyone else?”
“Guess I’m just not confident in my abilities,” I take my phone back.
Ash leans in closer, his hands slapping my door, boxing my head and body in. “You should always be confident of your abilities.”
“Are you?” I smirk, swallowing audibly because the temperature between us has risen about fifty degrees.
He smirks back. “Maybe you should tell me.”
Before I know it, all my teenage dreams are coming true, and I’m being kissed by Ashford McKinley. This isn’t the type of kiss I’ve experienced before. It’s a gentle invasion. He coaxes slowly, almost as if he has all the time in the world. I tilt my head to the side, giving him more room to work, and that’s when I feel his hands working at the zipper of my coat.
His tongue dances with mine, teasing slightly as I allow him more access. The frigid temperature outside invades as he slips his hands inside, his arms around my waist. When those strong hands move down to my ass, he hoists me up against the door, stepping in between my thighs. Without thought, my legs go
around his waist, my arms go around his neck, and I give myself over to this man.
He’s taking, but that’s okay because I’m giving. Giving him everything I’ve ever wanted to. Showing him how much I’ve wanted this kiss for years, showing him he deserves it. He deserves someone who will be there for him, and not leave when things get tough.
As fast as he wound me up, he calms me down. Slowing the kisses until we’re sharing little nips and both of us are breathing heavily. “I didn’t mean to get that worked up,” he apologizes as I feel the hardness of his length against me.
“It’s okay,” I grin. “I’m kinda glad you did.”
Burying my face in his neck, this time I kiss him, loving the guttural grown he releases as my teeth nip slightly.
“We can’t do this out here,” he throws his head back, sighing deeply as he slowly lets my legs drop. He closes my jacket, wipes my lips off with his thumb. “You should go inside, Em.”
“I should,” I agree. “But are you going to text me tomorrow?”
“You’ll be lucky if I make it a few hours without texting you,” he laughs.
The sound is thick, almost tortured and makes my flesh pebble. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Thanks for getting me out of the house.”
I turn to unlock my door, and he takes a moment to put his arm around my waist, pulling me flush with him. Giving him the opportunity to take one more kiss, I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck. He doesn’t disappoint and takes what I’m offering before I open my door, and he shoves me in.
Closing it, I collapse against it with the biggest smile on my face.
Eight
Ash
It’s honestly way too early for me to be up after the night I had with Emma, but here I am. Rolling over, I grab my cell phone to see if it’s just a cloudy day or if I’m up way earlier than I had intended to be.
With one eye open, I see that it’s eight in the morning. Earlier than I expected, but it does appear to be a cloudy day. Dropping my phone to my side, I lift my hand up to my eyes, rubbing them to get the sleep out of the corners. I don’t have to report to work until early tomorrow morning, and Syd is still with Courtney.
Deciding I need to check and make sure Syd is okay, I put in my passcode, there’s a text from her.
S: Morning Dad!
A: Hey Syd, how’s it going? You okay to stay there again today?
S: Yeah
Knowing she can’t text much more than that, I give her a call, waiting impatiently for her to pick up. It’s not like she’s never spent the night with other people before, but I’m nervous because I don’t fully believe Courtney knew what she was getting into.
“Hey dad,” she greets, and I note her voice doesn’t sound ordinarily happy, but it also doesn’t seem irritated or sad.
“Hey Syd, are you okay?” I run my hand through my hair, needing something to hang on to since I don’t have her here.
“Yeah,” she answers, just like she did in the text message. “It’s better this morning than it was last night.”
“Did you tell her you don’t like tacos?”
“No, I ate them, because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” Syd whispers. “You taught me I’m supposed to respect people who do nice things for me, and even if she forgot, she still cooked me dinner.”
There’s a pride sitting low in my chest as I hear her talk. It’s a big lesson for a little girl, but I’ve always treated her the way I want her to treat others. All her teachers have always commented on how much of an old soul she is, and how much more mature she seems to be than other kids her age. Hearing her say something back to me that I’ve said to her means more than I can express. “That’s a really grown up way of thinking, Syd, and I’m proud of you.”
“I told her this morning after she made me pancakes.”
“Nice way to ease into it there,” I praise her.
In the background, I hear some commotion.
“Mom wants to talk to you.”
“Okay, I love you, be good for her.”
No matter what’s gone on between me and Courtney, I want Syd to know she has to behave for both of us. I’ve always been a believer people can change, and I genuinely hope Courtney has.
“Hey,” she answers, and I recognize the voice of the woman I used to love.
And I loved her hard. Teenage and early twenties me loved strong, he was willing to do anything to keep his family together, to suck it up and do whatever it took to make the woman on the other end of this phone happy. I did things I swore I wouldn’t do in relationships because I didn’t want to be that divorced guy. Luckily I learned that making her happy shouldn’t make me fucking miserable.
“Hey,” I answer back, trying to gauge how this conversation is going to go. “Is she behaving?”
“She’s a good kid,” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’ve done an excellent job with her, Ash.”
Her saying that means a lot. It doesn’t matter what we’ve been through. Her approval is still welcome. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep, because you know me, but I want to be around more,” her voice is soft in the phone. “Scott wants kids, and I messed up the first time around. Maybe if I give it another try, I could be the mother Syd deserved.”
I’d be lying if I said a part of my heart didn’t hurt. I was married to this woman, had planned to spend the rest of my life with her, and now she’s talking to me about the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with. That dude isn’t me. “Sydney’s young enough that you haven’t done irreparable damage, Court. You just have to work at it and don’t give up on it. Giving up on us was one thing, giving up on her was an entire other.”
“You’re right, I can fix this.” Her voice has a little hope in it, and I’m proud I’m mature enough to put it there.
“You can, but you have to do it on her time, not yours,” I want to make sure she understands it won’t be easy. “Don’t pressure her, don’t expect her to automatically like you. She doesn’t know you, not really. I mean she’s grown up a lot since the last time you saw her.”
“I know, if it hadn’t been for all the pictures you send me, I wouldn’t have recognized her. I’m ashamed to admit that.”
“Admitting it is the first step,” I hold the phone tightly, hoping I don’t have to play the go-between with them anymore.
“I got this, Ash. Thank you.”
For the first time in a few years, I don’t say this with a bit of sarcasm attached to it. “You’re welcome.”
When we hang up, I do so with my chest not feeling nearly as tight as it was earlier. Feeling more at east than I have in a while, I roll back over, going back to sleep.
* * *
Emma
“It’s not too busy this morning, do you care if I head out?” I ask Bridget. I’m dragging ass because I was with Ash so late last night. I hate to admit it, but I desperately need a nap.
“You know you work whatever you want,” she reminds me as she comes out from the kitchen.
“I know, but I feel a responsibility to help you. If I’m not here who else will be?” And maybe that’s part of the problem. I’m comfortable, pretending to be the only person here who can help Bridget has helped me stay in this comfortable spot for far too long. Maybe I’m not the one helping her. Maybe she’s the one helping me.
Bridget sits at the counter next to where I’m sitting, rolling up silverware. “There are plenty of teenage kids that want to work here,” she gently reminds me. “I don’t give them the job because I know you count on the extra cash, and because I know you’re trustworthy. If it ever becomes something you don’t want to do, Em. You can tell me. I won’t be mad or disappointed in you choosing to better your life. Believe me, when I started waitressing at this place some forty years ago, I never thought I’d own it, and my name would be on the sign,” her eyes look wistful.
“What did you want to do?”
“I ha
d big plans, big plans for back then anyway. I was going to go to school and become a secretary or do data entry. Forty years ago, that was what we had to look forward to. Getting a job where you could wear a skirt and shoulder pads? That was big stuff, even for here. Those jobs seem so menial now, considering how high tech everything has become,” she turns in her seat. “At some point, I gave up on all that stuff and realized I was just as happy here as I would be anywhere else. That’s what you have to do, Emma. You’ve gotta find you're happy. No matter where that happy is. It could be here, it could be at the library, maybe it’s somewhere else. The point is, you’ll never know for sure unless you go looking for it.”
This is probably the most I’ve ever heard Bridget talk all at once in the years I’ve been working here. I have to know. “Did you? Go looking for it?”
“Once upon a time I did, but I ended up right back here. This is where I’m happy, this is where I do the best work. I make people happy here, every day. They come in, maybe start their day with me because no one is there to cook them breakfast. Or they may come in at midday to take a break. Perhaps it’s only at night time when they can’t stand to be by themselves, a single parent is too tired to cook dinner, the family has been running all over Midnight Cove trying to do all the extracurricular activities, maybe they’re newlyweds, and she doesn’t know how to cook yet, but they both agree on Bridget’s. Seeing them come in hungry, talking to them while I fill their coffee or coke, or then watching as they leave with a full belly and a smile on their face? That’s the best part of the day for me. But it doesn’t have to be for you,” she grabs hold of my hand, squeezing it with such reassurance I tear up.
After the conversation I had with Ash last night, this conversation is a bit heavier than I expected it to be. “I’m re-evaluating,” I admit. “I had a conversation with Ash last night, and it made me think about things. Things I’ve thought about on my own but never dared to do anything about…” I trail off.
Inflame: Midnight Cove #1 Page 5