For Better or Hearse: A Novel, page 22
Ash’s jaw drops, and then she takes a breath, attempting to disguise her surprise. “I think you two should sit. Say a lot of big words to each other. Maybe you’ll get angry, and it’ll be hard, but then it’s out. You only get one shot. Chance, life, love are finite.
“And when the time comes…” Her throat tightens. The backs of her eyes sting.
Dear god, no. Not tears. Not now.
“I’ll be there,” Ash chokes out. “For Augustus and for all of you. If you want.” She swallows, but she forces herself to maintain eye contact with Claire. “I’ll help. It’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to go through the fear and sadness of being left alone after his departure. You just feel what you feel and rage how you rage and cry how you cry, and I’ll be there.”
Claire rests her chin in her palm and considers Ash. “Yes,” she says quietly, “I look forward to it.”
Fucked. The only way to explain the vibe since they left for Maui. Their plane was delayed for three hours due to engine failure. At lunch, Tate ate a shrimp cocktail that absolutely decimated him with food poisoning. The Sunrise Above the Clouds tour Augustus had been planning was canceled thanks to the heavy rain. Sure, Ash could chalk all of it up to first world problems, but she also thinks it’s Maui problems.
To top it all off, there was a room mix-up, which means she’s on the lower level of suites. Away from the Whitfords. Augustus is pissed. He did all he could to move her, but because the resort is fully booked due to a wedding (of course it’s a wedding), there’s nothing they can do.
Being on her own down here only has Ash feeling more alone. Left behind.
As she walks down the hall to room 1313—even her room number feels like bad luck—she reads Tessie’s texts.
I have a voodoo doll with Jakob’s name on it.
I’m so proud of you, Ash.
Observe, do not absorb. Unless it’s Nathaniel’s righteous dick.
Her cousin’s warm, supportive words have Ash feeling like she can rally and get through the next five days.
Maybe.
Ash presses her key card against the reader, pushes the door open.
“Fuck,” she says, blinking.
Clearly, Augustus saved the best resort for last. The ocean-view guestroom is bright and airy. Gives coastal-chic vibes. Oversized leather armchairs, a plush J-shaped couch and a hot tub in the living room. The place is as luxurious as it gets.
Tessie would flip her shit if she saw this room.
Ash drags herself over to the balcony. Unlocks the sliding door and steps out. The sky is dark and ominous. Thick, tropical air, the scent of petrichor envelop her. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. She aches to crawl out of her skin. To teleport back to LA, to Tessie, to anywhere but here.
Despite how hard she’s worked to outrun them, move past them, the ghosts from her past have found her. And boo! is the whisper in her ear.
She and Jakob planned to honeymoon in Maui. It’s where she agonized over every detail. She’d joked to Tessie that it was the one thing she had actually planned in her life after Jakob tossed a hand up and said I don’t care where we go, babe, as long as I don’t miss football.
I hate him, she thinks. And I’m tired, so very fucking tired of thinking about him.
It’s not just the memory of her honeymoon, all those old feelings, wreaking havoc on her emotions. The end of the trip looms. The end of paradise. Of Nathaniel.
The thought is a sharp pain in her chest.
But that’s how it works, right? Those are the terms they’ve agreed on.
In life, everything ends. Especially love. It’s foolish trying to keep it.
Foolish trying to hold on to something she’ll only lose.
Because that’s what happens to her.
She loses.
Blinking tears from her eyes, she peers over the railing. The ocean is so close she could touch it. The fall is so far it’s dizzying. With a shaky hand on the railing, she forces herself to remember how to breathe. To remember what it feels like to kiss Nathaniel. Under the stars. In his bed.
She smiles beneath the dark curtain of her hair. Through the sheen of tears.
“Don’t jump. I’d miss you.”
She lifts her head at the sound of the deep, familiar voice.
Inside, her chest is a firefly.
The sight of Nathaniel on the neighboring balcony roots her. Oxygen returns to her lungs.
“What—what are you doing here?” She’s so surprised she doesn’t even have a barbed comeback.
“Traded rooms with your neighbors,” Nathaniel says evenly, hands in his pockets. “Knocked on their door and told them they were staying next to a burgeoning homicidal maniac, and they all but begged me to stay here instead.”
She fights to keep a cool exterior. Even though every emotion inside her is a powder keg.
A hand propped on her hip, she tilts her head. “They did, did they?”
Nathaniel rocks back on his heels. “Uh-huh.”
“Then get over here, asshole.”
With ease, he scales the small drop between their balconies. This tall, thoughtful billionaire, this very serious man who fears nothing. Not even her.
He comes toward her, the look on his face soft, hesitant. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“You did that?” she breathes. “For me?”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Of course I did.”
She doesn’t say anything. She can’t. Instead, she throws herself into his arms and shamelessly burrows into his hard frame. “Thank you,” she murmurs. His shirt smells like salt and sea. A hit of calm for every atom in her body.
He smooths a hand down her hair. Then, taking hold of her chin, tilts her face to his. Brow furrowed, he searches her eyes. “You okay, beauty?”
Her stomach somersaults at the endearment. The thorns around her heart pulse. “From Bigfoot to beauty. How’d I get there?”
Nathaniel’s mouth tips in a pleased grin. “Very easily, in fact.”
He slips his hands to her waist. As he anchors her to him, he says, “My grandfather isn’t here. We’re neighbors. I think you know what this means.”
“I finally get to throw you off the balcony with no witnesses.”
His chuckle is a husky, deep rumble that shakes her frame. “No.” Sobering, he regards her, gaze hopeful. Tentative. “Stay the night with me.”
“That’s dangerously close to feelings.”
Frowning, he runs his big hands up her arms. Her body heats at the contact. At the way he keeps her close, connected at all times.
“I don’t care. I want some time with you.” He says it so quietly that it’s nearly drowned out by the sound of the ocean.
A weak laugh pops out of her. “I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me sleep.”
He sweeps his thumb over her bottom lip. “On the contrary. I’m pretty sure it’s my ideal hobby.”
Ash draws a breath. He’s softer with her. All his barbs and taunts and evil eyes now come coated in a sheen of affection. He’s shown her a different side of him she never expected. So why can’t she do that with him? Let him in? Sleep over? Because it’s all too close. Too many feelings.
She wants the German shepherd back. Because the golden retriever she sees in his eyes frightens her.
She rests against him flush and lays her head on his chest. That’s when she realizes her hands are wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, like all she wants to do is become one with his body.
Shit. Maybe she hasn’t been as good at keeping her walls up as she thought. Keeping Nathaniel out. For once in a long time, it feels like someone sees her. Knows her for who she is.
Because he’s more than the fling from a few days ago.
After only a few days, Nathaniel’s a comfort. A need. That person who can get her through anything, especially Maui. Already, he’s holding her together, igniting dopamine levels so high they edge out her anxiety.
On a heavy sigh, Nathaniel adjusts her in his arms. They stay like that, taking in the tropical scenery. The lush mountains. The thunderous beach.
She can’t explain her many rioting feelings for him. So she doesn’t try. She just enjoys. For as long as she has him.
The bed frame creaks as Ash tiptoes out of bed. She pads, feet bare, across the cool marble floor. With a second look at Nathaniel, who sleeps face down, arms curled around his pillow, she slips into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.
She sits on the edge of the tub and dials.
“Hi,” she says into the phone. She cups her hand against the mouthpiece. “It’s me again. Third time calling, third time no answer. I promise I’m not stalking you…” She frowns. “Which I realize is something a stalker would say. Would you just…call me back?”
She hangs up and clutches the phone to her body as her guilty heart ricochets in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushes to standing. Tiptoes back to Nathaniel. The room smells of sex and salt and sea.
“Ash,” he murmurs in his sleep. His muscular back rises and falls with the steady rhythm of his breath. He’s the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.
In the dark, she smiles. He could eat her name, swallow it down into that warm, chiseled, tender heart of his and hold it there. Keep her.
She kisses his back. His freckled shoulder blade.
After she gathers her things, she studies his handsome face, boyish in the moonlight. Touches his lips with trembling fingers. Touches her own.
You, me, she thinks.
If only it were that easy.
As Nathaniel expected, Ash is fifteen minutes late. His heartbeat becomes irregular when she appears, slicing through the restaurant. She sits beside him at the round table, amid the clatter of the brunch buffet and his siblings’ chatter.
“You look more pale and tired than usual,” he remarks, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. She must have snuck out of his room at an ungodly hour. When he woke around three a.m., she was gone.
It’s like a vise around his heart. It pisses him off.
She gives him a dirty look while reaching for a croissant. “At least I’m not dressed like a leprechaun.”
The sharp tone in her voice makes him want to take her back to his room and bury his cock between her soft, wet thighs. Christ, he craves her banter. Can’t get enough of those under-the-breath asides that carve him up.
Can’t get enough of her.
There’s nothing about her that’s a passing interest anymore. Or a fling. The awareness is undeniable every time he sees Ash. This is about feelings.
Fucking feelings. He promised he’d steer clear, and look where he is. So obsessed he can’t even see straight.
He wishes he could say the same for Ash. Her walls are up. Every time he gets close, she pulls back.
It’s Maui. It’s obvious. She’s been agitated since they got here. The defeated look on her face when he saw her on the balcony yesterday. Unspoken pain in her eyes.
What has this girl survived? That’s what he wants to know. Why does Hawaii make her flinch? And goddamn does that lipstick ever come off?
Whatever the problem, he wants to fix it. But she won’t let him.
His father drops his cloth napkin, checks his watch. “Let’s wrap this up soon. The boys have things to do.”
“The boys,” Ash murmurs, popping a piece of croissant into her mouth. “Is that a secret syndicate that fights billionaire crime?”
Delaney, three mimosas deep, looks up from her plate. “That should be a TV show.”
Nathaniel’s silent as he leans back in his chair. The idea of splitting up from Ash makes his skin itch. They have such little time left together. At that, he frowns. How many days is it again? Four?
At the thought, it’s hard to get air.
Needing to touch her, a reassurance he still has time, he slides his hand along her thigh beneath the table. Squeezes.
Ash keeps a straight face. Only the curled edge of her blood-red lips gives anything away.
He slides his hand higher. Over the blooming iris tattoo she got after crowd surfing at Bonnaroo. The tattoo he traced with his lips, his tongue last night, before reaching the apex of her thighs and going in for a taste of her.
Touching her is a necessity. Another way—a better way—to live.
Fantastically beautiful. Like the dangerous allure of the sea. Only it’s everywhere he wants to be. Riding those waves, dipping into every deep, dark, secret part of her.
She spreads her thighs, the subtle invite making his pulse quicken.
Jesus.
His cock could punch through drywall.
He’s pressing a finger against the wet seam of her panties when his father says, “Our tee time’s at noon. You think you can swing it, Augustus?” Don smirks. “It’s right around your mid-day nap.”
Augustus sips his coffee easily. Smiles. “Never too tired to kick your ass in a round of golf, Don.”
His grandfather’s a good liar. Nathaniel will give him that. The dark circles under his eyes give away the truth. He’s fading. Slow, but soon. Although the man could probably muster the strength to take a swing at his father with a golf club. Nathaniel wouldn’t blame him. His father is acting like an ass.
“You take breaks if you need to, Dad,” Claire says, squeezing Augustus’s arm.
In his periphery, Ash’s lashes flutter. He sweeps a thumb over the bud of her clit. Her thighs tremble. Through the thin silk of her tank top, her nipples are pinched. He rotates his rhythm.
Ash gasps. Her dark head falls forward. She grips her silverware with white knuckles.
“Enjoying that croissant?” he asks, voice devoid of emotion.
She whips her head in his direction, gives him a deadly glare.
“Ash?” his mother asks, concerned. “Are you okay?” To his surprise, his mother’s been cordial to Ash since they got to Maui.
“I’m fine.” She huffs out a breath. “All good.”
Nathaniel bites back a smile. Withdraws his hand.
Ash flounces back against her seat, breathing heavily. Her eyes are a swirl of green and gray, glassy and glazed. “I hate you,” she whispers.
Don shakes out his paper. “Claire, you have my card. Try not to spend it all in one place.”
For a brief second, his mother looks irritated. Then she folds up her napkin without another word.
“Designated gender roles.” Ash’s lips curl. “We love to see it, don’t we, Don?”
Nathaniel fights a smile.
His father makes a sound of dismissal and goes back to his paper.
At that, Ash sighs and taps at the screen of her phone.
“What’re you doing?” Nathaniel asks, tilting a fraction closer.
“Marking down how often he speaks to me,” Ash replies, eyes on the device. “So far, I have been acknowledged once, grunted at four times, and addressed by name negative three.”
Nathaniel frowns. She says it lightly, but inside, he’s seething.
Delaney drums the table in excitement. “And for the ladiesss, spa and shopping day in town!” She lifts her mimosa glass high.
“Wait. What?” Ash’s voice is flat. Her panicked eyes rush to his.
This time he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk.
“Shopping. Sounds right up your alley, Bigfoot.”
“Oh, you fucking Tall Asshole,” she growls.
Fuck. It’s all he can do not to kiss that sharp mouth in front of everyone.
“Lobby.” Don’s sharp bark calls the group to order. “Five minutes, Nate.”
Ash glowers. “Nathaniel,” she says under her breath.
In the lobby, he and Ash hover close, but not too close, to one another. His father calls their separate drivers. Heat rises in the space between them. He’s tempted to touch her, but he can’t do that right now. Not with his family around. And why does it feel like his heart’s getting yanked out by a scythe?
Ash’s husky voice sounds. “What’s wrong?”
Nathaniel rolls out his shoulders. “I hate wasting a day with my father.”
Eyes searching his face, she lifts her hands. “Jaw,” she says, tapping his jaw. And it unclenches. “Now shoulders.” Another tap.
Nathaniel’s body relaxes. The tension eases out of him as easy as that. Because of Ash. She’s a goddamn dream.
“Think of it this way,” she says. “It’s another day with your grandfather.”
Nathaniel nods, but he’s hyper-focused on only one thing. “You’re right. But it’s a day away from you.”
Eyes wide, she looks startled by his words. Then expertly resets her face into an expression of nonchalance. “We have tonight.”
But it’s not enough, he wants to say. Four more days with you is not enough.
“Yeah,” he rasps. It feels like there’s acid in his windpipe.
Ash grins. “If you do one thing for me today, please kick Don’s ass.”
“You can count on it.”
Behind Ash, his father’s gesturing frantically. If there’s one thing Don can’t miss, it’s golf.
Nathaniel blows out a frustrated breath. “I have to go.”
Ash grabs the strap of his golf bag before he can walk away. Yanks it backward so sharply he almost lands on his ass. He catches himself. Spins.
She pulls him against her. In her eyes, fire. “Kill you later.”
His gaze falls to her lips, then lowers.
Her boots.
“Hold on,” he says, and he hits his knees.
For a long minute, Ash is stunned speechless. She blinks down at him.
Eagerly, he slides a hand over her slim calf and looks up at her.
“Watching you nearly die every day is fucking killing me,” he growls, tightening her laces. He takes his time. Lets his gaze travel up those long legs. Beneath her short skirt. To the faint dampness of arousal on the inside of her thighs.
Christ. Instantly, his dick’s hard as a rock.
He loops her last lace, then looks up. “There.”
“My hero,” she quips. Her words are clipped. But her face is flushed. Her eyes wild.
He’s still trying to figure out how this woman made him go from emotionally unavailable to having feelings and tying her goddamn boots in the middle of a hotel lobby in front of his entire family and a handful of strangers.
“And when the time comes…” Her throat tightens. The backs of her eyes sting.
Dear god, no. Not tears. Not now.
“I’ll be there,” Ash chokes out. “For Augustus and for all of you. If you want.” She swallows, but she forces herself to maintain eye contact with Claire. “I’ll help. It’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to go through the fear and sadness of being left alone after his departure. You just feel what you feel and rage how you rage and cry how you cry, and I’ll be there.”
Claire rests her chin in her palm and considers Ash. “Yes,” she says quietly, “I look forward to it.”
Fucked. The only way to explain the vibe since they left for Maui. Their plane was delayed for three hours due to engine failure. At lunch, Tate ate a shrimp cocktail that absolutely decimated him with food poisoning. The Sunrise Above the Clouds tour Augustus had been planning was canceled thanks to the heavy rain. Sure, Ash could chalk all of it up to first world problems, but she also thinks it’s Maui problems.
To top it all off, there was a room mix-up, which means she’s on the lower level of suites. Away from the Whitfords. Augustus is pissed. He did all he could to move her, but because the resort is fully booked due to a wedding (of course it’s a wedding), there’s nothing they can do.
Being on her own down here only has Ash feeling more alone. Left behind.
As she walks down the hall to room 1313—even her room number feels like bad luck—she reads Tessie’s texts.
I have a voodoo doll with Jakob’s name on it.
I’m so proud of you, Ash.
Observe, do not absorb. Unless it’s Nathaniel’s righteous dick.
Her cousin’s warm, supportive words have Ash feeling like she can rally and get through the next five days.
Maybe.
Ash presses her key card against the reader, pushes the door open.
“Fuck,” she says, blinking.
Clearly, Augustus saved the best resort for last. The ocean-view guestroom is bright and airy. Gives coastal-chic vibes. Oversized leather armchairs, a plush J-shaped couch and a hot tub in the living room. The place is as luxurious as it gets.
Tessie would flip her shit if she saw this room.
Ash drags herself over to the balcony. Unlocks the sliding door and steps out. The sky is dark and ominous. Thick, tropical air, the scent of petrichor envelop her. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. She aches to crawl out of her skin. To teleport back to LA, to Tessie, to anywhere but here.
Despite how hard she’s worked to outrun them, move past them, the ghosts from her past have found her. And boo! is the whisper in her ear.
She and Jakob planned to honeymoon in Maui. It’s where she agonized over every detail. She’d joked to Tessie that it was the one thing she had actually planned in her life after Jakob tossed a hand up and said I don’t care where we go, babe, as long as I don’t miss football.
I hate him, she thinks. And I’m tired, so very fucking tired of thinking about him.
It’s not just the memory of her honeymoon, all those old feelings, wreaking havoc on her emotions. The end of the trip looms. The end of paradise. Of Nathaniel.
The thought is a sharp pain in her chest.
But that’s how it works, right? Those are the terms they’ve agreed on.
In life, everything ends. Especially love. It’s foolish trying to keep it.
Foolish trying to hold on to something she’ll only lose.
Because that’s what happens to her.
She loses.
Blinking tears from her eyes, she peers over the railing. The ocean is so close she could touch it. The fall is so far it’s dizzying. With a shaky hand on the railing, she forces herself to remember how to breathe. To remember what it feels like to kiss Nathaniel. Under the stars. In his bed.
She smiles beneath the dark curtain of her hair. Through the sheen of tears.
“Don’t jump. I’d miss you.”
She lifts her head at the sound of the deep, familiar voice.
Inside, her chest is a firefly.
The sight of Nathaniel on the neighboring balcony roots her. Oxygen returns to her lungs.
“What—what are you doing here?” She’s so surprised she doesn’t even have a barbed comeback.
“Traded rooms with your neighbors,” Nathaniel says evenly, hands in his pockets. “Knocked on their door and told them they were staying next to a burgeoning homicidal maniac, and they all but begged me to stay here instead.”
She fights to keep a cool exterior. Even though every emotion inside her is a powder keg.
A hand propped on her hip, she tilts her head. “They did, did they?”
Nathaniel rocks back on his heels. “Uh-huh.”
“Then get over here, asshole.”
With ease, he scales the small drop between their balconies. This tall, thoughtful billionaire, this very serious man who fears nothing. Not even her.
He comes toward her, the look on his face soft, hesitant. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“You did that?” she breathes. “For me?”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Of course I did.”
She doesn’t say anything. She can’t. Instead, she throws herself into his arms and shamelessly burrows into his hard frame. “Thank you,” she murmurs. His shirt smells like salt and sea. A hit of calm for every atom in her body.
He smooths a hand down her hair. Then, taking hold of her chin, tilts her face to his. Brow furrowed, he searches her eyes. “You okay, beauty?”
Her stomach somersaults at the endearment. The thorns around her heart pulse. “From Bigfoot to beauty. How’d I get there?”
Nathaniel’s mouth tips in a pleased grin. “Very easily, in fact.”
He slips his hands to her waist. As he anchors her to him, he says, “My grandfather isn’t here. We’re neighbors. I think you know what this means.”
“I finally get to throw you off the balcony with no witnesses.”
His chuckle is a husky, deep rumble that shakes her frame. “No.” Sobering, he regards her, gaze hopeful. Tentative. “Stay the night with me.”
“That’s dangerously close to feelings.”
Frowning, he runs his big hands up her arms. Her body heats at the contact. At the way he keeps her close, connected at all times.
“I don’t care. I want some time with you.” He says it so quietly that it’s nearly drowned out by the sound of the ocean.
A weak laugh pops out of her. “I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me sleep.”
He sweeps his thumb over her bottom lip. “On the contrary. I’m pretty sure it’s my ideal hobby.”
Ash draws a breath. He’s softer with her. All his barbs and taunts and evil eyes now come coated in a sheen of affection. He’s shown her a different side of him she never expected. So why can’t she do that with him? Let him in? Sleep over? Because it’s all too close. Too many feelings.
She wants the German shepherd back. Because the golden retriever she sees in his eyes frightens her.
She rests against him flush and lays her head on his chest. That’s when she realizes her hands are wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, like all she wants to do is become one with his body.
Shit. Maybe she hasn’t been as good at keeping her walls up as she thought. Keeping Nathaniel out. For once in a long time, it feels like someone sees her. Knows her for who she is.
Because he’s more than the fling from a few days ago.
After only a few days, Nathaniel’s a comfort. A need. That person who can get her through anything, especially Maui. Already, he’s holding her together, igniting dopamine levels so high they edge out her anxiety.
On a heavy sigh, Nathaniel adjusts her in his arms. They stay like that, taking in the tropical scenery. The lush mountains. The thunderous beach.
She can’t explain her many rioting feelings for him. So she doesn’t try. She just enjoys. For as long as she has him.
The bed frame creaks as Ash tiptoes out of bed. She pads, feet bare, across the cool marble floor. With a second look at Nathaniel, who sleeps face down, arms curled around his pillow, she slips into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.
She sits on the edge of the tub and dials.
“Hi,” she says into the phone. She cups her hand against the mouthpiece. “It’s me again. Third time calling, third time no answer. I promise I’m not stalking you…” She frowns. “Which I realize is something a stalker would say. Would you just…call me back?”
She hangs up and clutches the phone to her body as her guilty heart ricochets in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushes to standing. Tiptoes back to Nathaniel. The room smells of sex and salt and sea.
“Ash,” he murmurs in his sleep. His muscular back rises and falls with the steady rhythm of his breath. He’s the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.
In the dark, she smiles. He could eat her name, swallow it down into that warm, chiseled, tender heart of his and hold it there. Keep her.
She kisses his back. His freckled shoulder blade.
After she gathers her things, she studies his handsome face, boyish in the moonlight. Touches his lips with trembling fingers. Touches her own.
You, me, she thinks.
If only it were that easy.
As Nathaniel expected, Ash is fifteen minutes late. His heartbeat becomes irregular when she appears, slicing through the restaurant. She sits beside him at the round table, amid the clatter of the brunch buffet and his siblings’ chatter.
“You look more pale and tired than usual,” he remarks, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. She must have snuck out of his room at an ungodly hour. When he woke around three a.m., she was gone.
It’s like a vise around his heart. It pisses him off.
She gives him a dirty look while reaching for a croissant. “At least I’m not dressed like a leprechaun.”
The sharp tone in her voice makes him want to take her back to his room and bury his cock between her soft, wet thighs. Christ, he craves her banter. Can’t get enough of those under-the-breath asides that carve him up.
Can’t get enough of her.
There’s nothing about her that’s a passing interest anymore. Or a fling. The awareness is undeniable every time he sees Ash. This is about feelings.
Fucking feelings. He promised he’d steer clear, and look where he is. So obsessed he can’t even see straight.
He wishes he could say the same for Ash. Her walls are up. Every time he gets close, she pulls back.
It’s Maui. It’s obvious. She’s been agitated since they got here. The defeated look on her face when he saw her on the balcony yesterday. Unspoken pain in her eyes.
What has this girl survived? That’s what he wants to know. Why does Hawaii make her flinch? And goddamn does that lipstick ever come off?
Whatever the problem, he wants to fix it. But she won’t let him.
His father drops his cloth napkin, checks his watch. “Let’s wrap this up soon. The boys have things to do.”
“The boys,” Ash murmurs, popping a piece of croissant into her mouth. “Is that a secret syndicate that fights billionaire crime?”
Delaney, three mimosas deep, looks up from her plate. “That should be a TV show.”
Nathaniel’s silent as he leans back in his chair. The idea of splitting up from Ash makes his skin itch. They have such little time left together. At that, he frowns. How many days is it again? Four?
At the thought, it’s hard to get air.
Needing to touch her, a reassurance he still has time, he slides his hand along her thigh beneath the table. Squeezes.
Ash keeps a straight face. Only the curled edge of her blood-red lips gives anything away.
He slides his hand higher. Over the blooming iris tattoo she got after crowd surfing at Bonnaroo. The tattoo he traced with his lips, his tongue last night, before reaching the apex of her thighs and going in for a taste of her.
Touching her is a necessity. Another way—a better way—to live.
Fantastically beautiful. Like the dangerous allure of the sea. Only it’s everywhere he wants to be. Riding those waves, dipping into every deep, dark, secret part of her.
She spreads her thighs, the subtle invite making his pulse quicken.
Jesus.
His cock could punch through drywall.
He’s pressing a finger against the wet seam of her panties when his father says, “Our tee time’s at noon. You think you can swing it, Augustus?” Don smirks. “It’s right around your mid-day nap.”
Augustus sips his coffee easily. Smiles. “Never too tired to kick your ass in a round of golf, Don.”
His grandfather’s a good liar. Nathaniel will give him that. The dark circles under his eyes give away the truth. He’s fading. Slow, but soon. Although the man could probably muster the strength to take a swing at his father with a golf club. Nathaniel wouldn’t blame him. His father is acting like an ass.
“You take breaks if you need to, Dad,” Claire says, squeezing Augustus’s arm.
In his periphery, Ash’s lashes flutter. He sweeps a thumb over the bud of her clit. Her thighs tremble. Through the thin silk of her tank top, her nipples are pinched. He rotates his rhythm.
Ash gasps. Her dark head falls forward. She grips her silverware with white knuckles.
“Enjoying that croissant?” he asks, voice devoid of emotion.
She whips her head in his direction, gives him a deadly glare.
“Ash?” his mother asks, concerned. “Are you okay?” To his surprise, his mother’s been cordial to Ash since they got to Maui.
“I’m fine.” She huffs out a breath. “All good.”
Nathaniel bites back a smile. Withdraws his hand.
Ash flounces back against her seat, breathing heavily. Her eyes are a swirl of green and gray, glassy and glazed. “I hate you,” she whispers.
Don shakes out his paper. “Claire, you have my card. Try not to spend it all in one place.”
For a brief second, his mother looks irritated. Then she folds up her napkin without another word.
“Designated gender roles.” Ash’s lips curl. “We love to see it, don’t we, Don?”
Nathaniel fights a smile.
His father makes a sound of dismissal and goes back to his paper.
At that, Ash sighs and taps at the screen of her phone.
“What’re you doing?” Nathaniel asks, tilting a fraction closer.
“Marking down how often he speaks to me,” Ash replies, eyes on the device. “So far, I have been acknowledged once, grunted at four times, and addressed by name negative three.”
Nathaniel frowns. She says it lightly, but inside, he’s seething.
Delaney drums the table in excitement. “And for the ladiesss, spa and shopping day in town!” She lifts her mimosa glass high.
“Wait. What?” Ash’s voice is flat. Her panicked eyes rush to his.
This time he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk.
“Shopping. Sounds right up your alley, Bigfoot.”
“Oh, you fucking Tall Asshole,” she growls.
Fuck. It’s all he can do not to kiss that sharp mouth in front of everyone.
“Lobby.” Don’s sharp bark calls the group to order. “Five minutes, Nate.”
Ash glowers. “Nathaniel,” she says under her breath.
In the lobby, he and Ash hover close, but not too close, to one another. His father calls their separate drivers. Heat rises in the space between them. He’s tempted to touch her, but he can’t do that right now. Not with his family around. And why does it feel like his heart’s getting yanked out by a scythe?
Ash’s husky voice sounds. “What’s wrong?”
Nathaniel rolls out his shoulders. “I hate wasting a day with my father.”
Eyes searching his face, she lifts her hands. “Jaw,” she says, tapping his jaw. And it unclenches. “Now shoulders.” Another tap.
Nathaniel’s body relaxes. The tension eases out of him as easy as that. Because of Ash. She’s a goddamn dream.
“Think of it this way,” she says. “It’s another day with your grandfather.”
Nathaniel nods, but he’s hyper-focused on only one thing. “You’re right. But it’s a day away from you.”
Eyes wide, she looks startled by his words. Then expertly resets her face into an expression of nonchalance. “We have tonight.”
But it’s not enough, he wants to say. Four more days with you is not enough.
“Yeah,” he rasps. It feels like there’s acid in his windpipe.
Ash grins. “If you do one thing for me today, please kick Don’s ass.”
“You can count on it.”
Behind Ash, his father’s gesturing frantically. If there’s one thing Don can’t miss, it’s golf.
Nathaniel blows out a frustrated breath. “I have to go.”
Ash grabs the strap of his golf bag before he can walk away. Yanks it backward so sharply he almost lands on his ass. He catches himself. Spins.
She pulls him against her. In her eyes, fire. “Kill you later.”
His gaze falls to her lips, then lowers.
Her boots.
“Hold on,” he says, and he hits his knees.
For a long minute, Ash is stunned speechless. She blinks down at him.
Eagerly, he slides a hand over her slim calf and looks up at her.
“Watching you nearly die every day is fucking killing me,” he growls, tightening her laces. He takes his time. Lets his gaze travel up those long legs. Beneath her short skirt. To the faint dampness of arousal on the inside of her thighs.
Christ. Instantly, his dick’s hard as a rock.
He loops her last lace, then looks up. “There.”
“My hero,” she quips. Her words are clipped. But her face is flushed. Her eyes wild.
He’s still trying to figure out how this woman made him go from emotionally unavailable to having feelings and tying her goddamn boots in the middle of a hotel lobby in front of his entire family and a handful of strangers.
