Finding Ashlyn, page 23
“Me?”
“Yes, babe. You. I was pissed that you’d never know just how much I cared about you. That I’d never get to explain our casual dating thing is total bullshit. There’s nothing fucking casual about our relationship. Not for me.”
Ashlyn’s eyes widened. Was she hearing him wrong? Maybe she was so desperate for him to feel the same as her, she was hallucinating.
“I truly don’t remember calling you. In my defense, my brain had gotten knocked around pretty good inside my skull. It’s really not an excuse…but the first thing I wanted to do this morning, when I finally woke up and felt slightly normal, was talk to you. Then you told me you were on a date…”
Slate took a deep breath. “I fucking hate that I hurt you so badly that you went out with someone else—but I’m not giving up on you. On us. I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust. If you want to continue to see other people while we’re fixin’ what we had, I’ll deal with it. I won’t like it, but I’ll prove to you that I’m not only your friend, I’m the man who loves you. The man who will throw a temper tantrum in front of a military doctor like a three-year-old so he can get his way and come home to see the woman who owns his heart.”
Ashlyn felt as if she was going to pass out. Instead of admitting she loved him back, all she could think to say was, “I wasn’t on a date.”
“Babe, you were at a bar, and you said you were with a friend.”
“I was. But…it wasn’t with a guy. I mean, there were guys there, but it was a group thing. Today’s the birthday of one of the guys from Food For All. A bunch of us went out to help him celebrate.”
Slate sat up straighter. “You weren’t on a date?”
“No.”
His entire body slumped, and he closed his eyes and bowed his head.
“Slate?”
“Give me a second,” he whispered.
Ashlyn wasn’t sure what to do. A week ago, she would’ve climbed into his lap and reassured him the best way she knew how that he was the only man in her life…
And the moment she had that thought, Ashlyn wondered what was holding her back.
He’d apologized. He had a concussion. He didn’t even remember the last two days.
He said he loved her.
She was moving before she realized what she was doing. Walking the couple of steps it took to stand in front of him. Then she put her knees on either side of his thighs.
The second he felt the cushion give beneath him, Slate’s eyes popped open and his hands went to her hips. He held her steady as she scooted closer.
Ashlyn put her hands on his cheeks and met his gaze. She was scared to death, but this was too important to beat around the bush about. “You love me?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Slate said without hesitation.
“I love you too.”
He didn’t move for a nanosecond after the last word left her mouth. Then he let out a long breath, pulled her close, and buried his nose in the space between her shoulder and neck.
“Fuck me,” he whispered.
Ashlyn was crying…again…but she smiled.
“Fuck!” Slate repeated.
“Not sure you’re up to that yet,” Ashlyn teased.
His head moved back, and she saw his eyes were shiny with tears. “Say it again,” he ordered.
“I love you. Have for a while now but I was too chicken to admit it, even to myself. When I heard you were hurt…I’ve never been so scared. Then you said you didn’t want to see me, that Mustang could look after you, and all that fear morphed into agony. I couldn’t even talk to our friends because it just hurt too much.”
“I’m so damn sorry,” Slate said softly.
Ashlyn shook her head. “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad or to get you to apologize again or anything. We’re moving on from that. I messed up too. I should’ve ignored you and gone to your house anyway. I should’ve listened to what our friends had to say. I should’ve admitted long before now that I wanted so much more than a friends-with-benefits thing. I was too scared that was the only way I could have you.”
“If there’s ever a next time,” Slate said, “I don’t give a shit what I say, you get your ass to my side. Okay?”
Ashlyn swallowed down the fear that spiked through her at the thought of him getting hurt in the future. But she wasn’t an idiot. Her man was a SEAL. His job was dangerous. She just had to hope and pray that his team would have his back and the bad guys wouldn’t get lucky a second time. “Okay.”
His hands framed her face. “You weren’t out with someone else.” It wasn’t a question.
“No. You’re the only man I’ve been remotely interested in for more than a year. I’ve had a crush on you forever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know if I can claim the same…but I know I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Worrying about you. Needling you so you’d go off on me.”
Ashlyn rolled her eyes even as Slate wiped the lingering wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs. “So you acted like a grade-school kid picking on the girl he likes because he didn’t know how else to get her attention.”
“Pretty much,” Slate agreed. Then he slowly leaned toward her.
His kiss was light, almost hesitant. As if it was the first they’d ever shared. And in many ways, it was. The first of their new, serious, very committed relationship.
When he pulled back, Slate rested his forehead against hers.
“How in the world are we gonna tell everyone, after all these months of insisting that we’re nothing but casual, that all of a sudden we love each other and we’re in a serious relationship?” she mumbled.
In response, Slate moved a hand to her hip to hold her steady, then leaned enough to reach into his back pocket with the other. He brought out his phone, using both hands to type something.
“Slate? What are you doing?”
“Give me a second.”
“Seriously, Slate, what—”
“There. It’s done. Everyone knows, so no more worrying about it.”
“What’s done? What did you do?”
He turned his phone around, and Ashlyn stared at the group text he’d just sent.
* * *
Slate: Ash and I are in love. We’re gonna get married someday in the hopefully not-too-distant future. The first person who says “I knew it” or “I told you so” isn’t gonna be invited to the wedding.
* * *
“Oh my God! I can’t believe you just sent that. Who did you send it to?” Ashlyn asked, torn between being mortified and laughing hysterical.
“Everyone.”
“You did not!”
“Yup.”
Just then, his phone started vibrating in his hand as people responded to the message. Not only that, but Ashlyn could hear her own phone, still in her purse by the door, dinging with notifications.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you love me anyway.”
She smiled. “I do.”
His facial expression turned serious. “I’ll do my best to never hurt you like that again, babe. But if I do, don’t just take it. You give as good as you get. Always. I can’t deal with the thought of you sleeping on your couch, crying your eyes out over something I did or said, ever again.”
Figures he didn’t miss that was exactly what she’d been doing for the last two days. “I will.”
“I mean it. I’ll always get my head out of my ass, but you calling me on my shit will help that happen sooner.”
“Okay.”
“Now that we’re good—we are good, right?”
“We’re good, Slate.”
He nodded. “Okay. Now that we’re good, I’m thinking I need to lie down for a while.”
Ashlyn frowned in alarm. “Why? Does your head hurt? Should I call a doctor? Maybe Mustang should come over. Since he’s been looking after you, he’ll know if you need to go to the hospital, right?”
“Shhhh. I’m all right. I’m just tired. And my head still hurts a bit. But nothing like before.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just telling me that so I don’t freak out?”
“I’m sure.”
Ashlyn breathed out a sigh of relief. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Before I came over here. Aleck made me eat eggs and a shake.”
“How about you go lie down and I make you something for dinner. Maybe some lasagna? I’ll put lots of meat in it for more protein. And the carbs will probably do you good.”
“How about I lie here while you cook?” he countered.
“Okay. That’s better. I can keep an eye on you,” Ashlyn agreed. Then said sheepishly, “And there’s already a blanket and pillow out here anyway.”
Slate frowned. “Hate that I hurt you, babe.”
“It’s okay. Done and over with. We’re moving on. I mean, apparently we’re getting married at some point, even though I don’t remember you asking, or me saying yes.”
Slate grinned and leaned forward and kissed her deeply. “I know when I’ve found something good, and you, babe, are the best fucking thing to ever happen to me. We’re getting married. Maybe not tomorrow, or next month, but it’s gonna happen.”
“You that sure we’ll work out? That we won’t get tired of each other?”
“I’m that sure,” he said without a shred of doubt in his voice. “I didn’t live through that RPG attack to continue being a dumbass.”
Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile, even though she still hated to even think about what he’d been through. Then something else hit her. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Proving they were on the same wavelength, Slate didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. “I don’t know. My gut says no, but my heart hopes that since I survived, maybe he did too. Maybe his parents came and dug him out after we left. The guys didn’t find him while they were searching for me.”
“It’s all so sad,” Ashlyn said.
“It is. Kids are innocent. I hate that someone twisted his little mind into harboring such hate so early in his life.”
Ashlyn leaned forward and rested her body weight against Slate. His arms went around her and they sat like that for a few minutes.
“Food,” she said, eventually sitting back with a sigh. When she looked into Slate’s face, she could see the way he furrowed his brow as if his head was hurting. She climbed off him, leaned down, kissed him briefly, picked up the blanket that was still on the floor and pointed at the pillow. “Lie down.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And to think you could’ve had this excellent bedside service for the last couple of days,” she joked as she spread the blanket over him when he settled on his back.
“Yeah.”
Except he didn’t sound as if he found her words funny.
“I was joking,” she said.
“I wasn’t. I made you cry. And almost lost you. It won’t happen again.”
“I know.” And she did. “Nap, Slate. When you wake up, we’ll eat, then get you settled into bed. Wait, do you need to work tomorrow?”
“No. I’ve got the week off.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll call Lex and see if she can get someone to cover for my delivery route for a few days.”
“I’ll be okay hanging out while you do your thing,” he protested.
“Nope. I’m putting my foot down. I almost lost you,” she said, whispering that last part. “Give me a few days.”
“Done,” he said without hesitation. “I’d love to have you look after me while I’m recuperating.”
Ashlyn nodded, then reached for the lamp next to the couch. She turned off the light, then went to the curtains on the windows and shut those too. She knew how painful sunlight could be when she had a headache. Slate probably felt the same. His relieved sigh told her she was right.
“Oh, by the way, I’m not answering any of the texts from our friends. You sent the message, you can deal with them.”
“No problem. I’ll deal by ignoring them,” he said with a small smile, even as he shut his eyes.
Ashlyn watched him for a while. Even if she was slightly overwhelmed by how she’d gone from wanting to break up with Slate to admitting that she loved him, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d totally be talking to the other women about everything that happened. They would be thrilled for her, and probably smirk and say they knew all along she and Slate were gonna end up together…for real together.
Taking a deep breath, Ashlyn turned to the kitchen to start getting the lasagna ready. She needed to build Slate’s strength back up. Get him back to the bossy, slightly annoying, protective man she knew and loved. She didn’t like it when he was unsure and hurting.
Somehow a day that had started out miserable had ended up as one of the best of her life. Being in a relationship with Slate wouldn’t be without its ups and downs, but as long as they said they loved each other at the end of each day, and promised to deal with the bumps in the road, they’d be okay.
Chapter Twenty
The last four days had been some of the happiest of Ashlyn’s life, for no other reason than she’d spent them with the man she loved.
They’d stayed at her apartment Sunday night into Monday, then had gone back to Slate’s house the rest of the week. When she’d carefully removed his shirt Sunday night, before settling him into bed, the bruises covering his body shocked her. Slate had way downplayed his injuries. Ashlyn had refused to let him push himself too much after that, insisting he give himself time to heal.
But it was obvious yesterday that he was mostly back to his old self. He insisted on working out Thursday morning, lifting some light weights and doing sit-ups and pullups—no running yet.
It was Friday morning, and time for them both to return to their normal routines. Even though he didn’t have to go back into work until Monday, Slate was anxious to talk to his commander and give his account of what happened in Afghanistan. Her man was damn stubborn, but also, luckily, a fast healer.
They’d finally made love last night. Ashlyn had attempted to keep things slow and easy, but it wasn’t long before they were both too desperate to continue that route.
Slate had been insatiable, telling her over and over how much he loved her as he made her orgasm three times with his mouth and fingers before taking pity on her. She tried to roll over so he could take her from behind—she freaking loved when he fucked her that way—but he wouldn’t allow it, forcing her onto her back and sinking deep inside her while they were face-to-face.
“After everything that happened, the first time we make love,” he said, emphasizing the words, “I want to see your face. Want to look into your eyes so you can see just how much I love you.”
She’d melted. How could she say no to that?
And he’d done just what he’d said, thrusting over and over slowly, steadily, without taking his gaze from hers. He’d brought her to the edge once more, until she was begging him to let her come. The second she curled into him and began trembling, he’d lost it, pounding into her again and again, repeating I love you, I love you, to the beat of his thrusts.
Afterward, they’d clung to each other, their hearts racing a mile a minute.
Now she was in her car, trying to stop daydreaming about last night.
She was looking forward to seeing her clients again. Though, they were more than clients. They were her friends, and Ashlyn was excited to see what she’d missed in the last four days. It was hard to believe it was only Friday. It felt as if weeks had gone by. Her life had changed so much in the last few days…for the better.
Elodie, Lexie, Kenna, Monica, and Carly had been overjoyed at the change in her and Slate’s relationship. And yes, Ashlyn had heard a lot of “not surprised” and “about time” from her friends, but she wasn’t annoyed in the least. It was obvious they were all thrilled for her and Slate.
Everyone on her route was happy to see her as well. Jazmin was excited to show her Henry’s first tooth peeking through his gums. Briar and Curtis showed off their latest drawings, and Brooklyn was bursting with happiness because Trey had gotten a new job that paid five dollars more an hour. Even Christi smiled more than usual as they sat in the sun on her back porch for twenty minutes.
The only person who wasn’t happy was James.
Ashlyn had approached his house with a spring in her step, excited to see him. But the second she saw him when he opened his door, she knew something was wrong. He smiled when he saw her, but something was definitely…off.
It took a bit of cajoling to get it out of him. After some small talk, after putting the piece of key lime pie Elodie had made on a plate for him, and after telling him all about the change in her and Slate’s relationship, she said, “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to sit here for the rest of my visit and pretend nothing’s up?”
James sighed. “I’m eighty-nine years old. You’d think I’d be used to people disappointing me by now.”
“What happened?” Ashlyn asked.
“It’s about Aiden.”
“Your home health aide?”
“Yeah. I’ve had my concerns about him for a while, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. The boy hasn’t had an easy life, and he’s been extremely helpful,” James said.
“But?” Ashlyn pressed when he didn’t immediately continue.
“You know I’m not a fan of banks, right?” James asked.
Confused about the change of subject, Ashlyn nodded. “I keep telling you that things have changed since you were a kid. That it’s safe to deposit your money now.”
James gave her a small smile. “I know, but old habits are hard to break. My parents talked about the depression all the time when I was growing up. They lost a lot of money because of the situation with the banks, and until the day they died, they kept their savings in the house. And don’t talk to me about interest,” he said, holding up a hand. “The paltry amount banks give you is a slap in the face. They’re making money hand over fist on our accounts, and yet they give us pennies on the dollar. It’s a rip-off!”
