Heart of Ash (8 page)

Kaitlin was gracious enough to chuckle. “Go back as far as you like.”

Emily sighed. “I went for a walk last night, to check out the tide pools and I met him.”

“Ash?”

“Mmm hmm.” Emily folded her hands in her lap and stared at them as she spoke, anywhere but at Kaitlin’s too-knowing eyes. “He invited me for a ride on his Jet Ski. We went to the island and the engine conked out and we had to stay the night in the cabin.” She glanced at Kaitlin, who blinked.

“I heard that part already.  Why did you talk to him? We had a pact. To avoid those guys like the plague.”

“I didn’t seek him out. He talked to me first. It was only polite to respond.”

Kaitlin tsked. ”Your manners are going to bite you in the butt some day.”

“Why are you looking at me that way?” Emily knew that look.

“I’m sensing…”

“What?”

“Something different about you. Something…” She shook her head. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

Emily tipped her chin. She didn’t want Kaitlin putting her psychic fingers all over her secrets.

“So he talked to you and you responded because it was polite…”

“And because I liked him. And he seemed nice. So when he invited me out on his Jet Ski, I went.”

“And you got stranded at the island. And…” Kaitlin froze. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed. And Emily knew, just knew, she’d seen the truth. “Oh, Em.”

 That was it. Just, “Oh, Em.” And a hug.

It was the hug she needed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kaitlin murmured into her hair.

“I think so.”

“Was it… Was it all right?” Of all of them, Kaitlin knew her best. Kaitlin knew her secrets and understood why she avoided men. She’d been the one who had burst in, just as Roman had wrenched up her skirt and ripped off her panties and been about to—

Kaitlin had saved her. And afterwards, Kaitlin had soothed her.

Kaitlin had a gift.

Emily patted her arm. “It was wonderful. It was my choice, Kait. My decision. And I enjoyed every minute of it.”

“I’m so glad.”

“But…”

“But…what?”

“I’m not sure what happens now. I kind of got the sense he was withdrawing. You know, when we came back. He didn’t want to talk about it or hang out together or anything.”

She nodded. “Men can be that way. Do you really like him?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to talk to him. To see where he stands. Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Okay.” And as easily as that, all her rampant emotions settled down. She didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but Kaitlin did. She’d know how to handle this. “Thank you, Kaitlin.”

They hugged again and Kaitlin laughed.

“What?”

“Bella was right,” she said, with a glint in her eye. “You do smell like maple syrup.”

He saw her coming and fought back the urge to leap to his feet and run for the hills. He didn’t know where that cowardice had come from. Usually when he made up his mind to give a woman the cold shoulder, he had no qualms whatsoever. With Emily, it was different.

He disciplined himself to lean back in the deck chair and pretend to drink his beer as though he hadn’t a care in the world. It was a nice day. They’d set up the chairs on the grass in the sun and were diligently getting pleasantly plastered. Despite the fact it wasn’t quite noon.

And why the hell not? It was Saturday. It was summertime. He was a wealthy man with no obligations. No responsibilities. Nothing. Whatsoever.

Might as well be drunk.

“Here comes your redhead,” Richie muttered. Parker lurched up in his chair.

Devlin lifted the brim of his hat to look. “Hoo mama.”

“I can’t believe you tapped that,” Richie snickered. “You get all the hot pieces of ass.”

Parker shot Ash a glare. “You fucked
her
?”

Ash didn’t respond. It was none of Parker’s business who Ash fucked.

“That blonde is a sweet piece of ass too,” Richie said. Ash bit back a growl as something nasty slithered through him.

“Nice rack,” Devlin said.

Great. He might have to pound both of them into the ground.

Emily and her friend slowed as they reached his yard. She lifted a hand. “Hey Ash.”

Heads whipped around. Parker, Devlin and Richie gaped at him.

“Her?” Richie hissed. “Is she the one?”

Emily winced. Her fingers curled and her hand dropped. She exchanged a glance with her friend, the redhead who looked like she wanted to eviscerate Ash on the spot. Some secret female communication passed between them and the redhead nodded.

“Ash, could we…talk?”

His stomach surged. His pulse pounded. His mouth went dry. “Sure.” He set down his beer and stood. God, he hated confrontations. Especially with women. Like this. With their friends standing guard. And his listening in. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I think you know.”

“Over here?” He gestured toward the trees and she followed him away from the eavesdropping throng. They stood together in the shade of the evergreens. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you want to say?”

Her lips worked. Damn, they were pretty lips. He did not allow himself to be inveigled. Or tempted. Or seduced.

Although he did want to kiss her. Maybe more.

He pushed down that inconvenient desire. One time. One time was his rule. Well, in this case, one night. One tryst. One…whatever it had been.

Regret, and something else, swamped him.

He ignored it. He had to be strong. Resolved. Heartless.

That he wanted her so much, craved just another kiss, should be warning enough. This woman was
dangerous
.

“I was just wondering…” She paused and flicked a glance back at her friend. It made him uncomfortable the way the redhead was watching him. He didn’t know why, but it sent shivers up his spine. “I was just wondering what that was between us.”

“Between us? It was great. Fucking awesome.”

Emily stared at him as though she hadn’t understood his words. An uncomfortable silence swelled. Ash felt compelled to fill it. He clenched his teeth to keep his mouth shut.

“Yes. It was awesome. But what was it? I mean, what was it to you?”

“What are you asking?” Hell. He knew what she was asking. But if she wanted her answer, she should fucking ask the right question.

“Was it just a one night stand?”

Aw, shit. She did. She came right out and asked it. And with a wounded, vulnerable expression that skewered him. He steeled his spine. “Probably.”

“Probably?” She tipped her head to the side, studying him as though she’d never seen him before.

“Yes.”

“Did you take me to that island intending to seduce me there?”

He swallowed. Damn, this was hard. Harder than he’d expected. “Yes.”

“And did the engine really conk out?”

He winced. Guilt scalded him. A red tide rose on his cheeks. Something unpleasant prickled at his nape. “No.”

Her lips parted and a small breath feathered out. As though someone had punched her in the gut.

“D-did you use me, Ash?”

His throat closed up. He couldn’t answer a question like that. No man should ever be expected to.

He was possessed of the sudden urge to defend himself, to tell her his story, explain exactly why he did what he did.

But looking into her eyes, his argument revealed itself for what it was. A weak and self-centered attempt to justify a weak and self-centered existence.

“Did you use me?” she asked again in a soft, low voice.

He couldn’t speak. So he nodded.

She paled. Her jaw tightened. Something about her, her light, perhaps, dimmed. “I see. Well.” She swallowed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. And…thank you for a lovely evening. I did enjoy—” Her voice broke, halfway through the platitude, as though her good grace had simply worn out. “Goodbye,” she said. And she turned and walked away.

He watched her go, feeling oddly like she was taking a piece of him with her.

She passed her friend, and his attention stalled on her. The redhead. Who was watching him. Her face was a mask. When their gazes clashed, something whipped through him. He was certain it was the force of her fury.

But it wasn’t fury he saw on her face.

It was pity.

They walked back to the house without a word, for which Emily would be forever grateful. If Kaitlin had said something stupid like, “Are you okay,” she was certain she would burst into tears.

An odd, empty hollow place opened up in her chest as she replayed their conversation again and again, trying to put the pieces together. But her brain didn’t want to cooperate. Her heart didn’t want to accept the truth.

The beautiful thing she’d thought they’d shared had been nothing but an illusion for her. A game, a conquest, for him.

Kaitlin took her arm when she stumbled over the lip of the yard. She guided Emily to the right, away from the dock where their friends assembled around the boat the guys had brought out. Emily could hear their chattered conversations, their laughter, but as though from a distance. Everything seemed to be at a distance, even her breath.

She stumbled again as they crossed the threshold into the house and again, Kaitlin was there to catch her.

Drew, sitting at the table nibbling on a plate of leftover bacon, glanced up as they entered. As always, his attention snapped to Kaitlin, and Emily was glad for it. She didn’t know if she could handle his scrutiny right now. He broke into a grin, which quickly dimmed when he caught the curt shake of Kaitlin’s head.

Then his attention lit on Emily. She winced at his expression. “What—” he started, but again Kaitlin silenced him with a look. Without a word, she led Emily up the stairs to her room.

She felt like a zombie. Shuffling, empty, brain dead.

He hadn’t wanted her.

He’d only wanted sex.

He’d used her.

As she neared her room, her sanctuary, tears pricked at her lashes. She fought them back. She was a grown woman. She should have seen it. She should have expected it.

She should never have allowed her dreamy fantasies to intrude on a harsh reality.

This is what men were like. This was the way they behaved.

She should have known better.

When the door closed behind her, she could no longer keep her grief at bay. And she didn’t care to. She needed to cry. Wail. Mourn.

Kaitlin understood. She wrapped Emily in a tight hug and held her as she wept. Railed at the world, at men, at her own idiocy. It seemed like she cried for hours, but it couldn’t have been that long. When she lifted her head, Kaitlin’s shoulder was drenched.

“I’m sorry,” she snuffled, scrubbing at her cheeks.

“Don’t be silly. I’m here for you.” Kaitlin thumbed away a stray tear. “I am so sorry, Em.”

“I know.”

“He’s a jerk.”

Emily laughed through a sob. “He is. But I thought… I thought…”

“I know.” Again, a warm hug.

Which elicited another flurry of weeping. And hugging. And patting.

When Emily was exhausted, when she was completely and utterly drained, she pulled away and murmured, “I thought he was the one. I really really did.”

“I know. I know this was a big step for you. Think of it that way, Em. Did you enjoy it?”

Emily hiccupped. “Yes.”

“Then focus on that, darling. Be thankful for that. You had a wonderful first time with a very sexy man. Put him in your rearview mirror and move on.”

Move on?

“I…I don’t think I can move on.”

Kaitlin smiled. It was a sad smile, but one full of love. “I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. I promise. And one day you’ll meet a guy who is worthy of you.”

“I was so sure…”

A strange look flickered over Kaitlin’s face. “I know. I know you thought he was the one, but—”

“Did you?”

Kaitlin blanched. Pressed her lips together.

“Did you?”

“You know I don’t read my friends. My own hopes for them, my own expectations get in the way.”

“Right. But when you met him, did you think he was the one for me? Or was I just imagining this sense of…rightness.” Emily tugged on Kaitlin’s hand. “Please. I need to know.”

Kaitlin sighed. Her lashes fluttered. It was clear she did not want to answer.

Emily tugged again. “Please.”

“All right. Yes. Okay? Yes. I thought he was the one for you.” And then a flush rose on her cheeks.

Because Kaitlin was rarely mistaken about something like that.

But this time she too had gotten it wrong.

Somehow that gave Emily a tiny bit of comfort.

She wasn’t the only one he’d fooled.

Chapter Eight

The rest of the weekend was a bust. Both Parker and Devlin disappeared for the better part of Saturday, leaving Ash alone with Richie. Then Richie got swimmingly drunk that night and started a fight at the bar by grabbing Bella Cross when she came out of the ladies’ room and shoving his hand between her legs.

What an idiot. Bella was Holt Lamm’s girlfriend, and Holt didn’t take any shit off anybody.

None of them did. Not Holt. Not Cam Jackson. Not Drew Boone.

After Holt decked Richie, the three of them all turned and glared at Ash, bristling, fists flexing, as though they wanted to do the same to him.

So when Darby suggested he and Richie leave, and
tout de suite
, they complied. He tromped back to his house, supporting Richie’s staggering weight, and got drunk—well, drunker—there.

On Sunday, he stayed on his deck and watched his neighbors take turns running their speedboat. He caught a glimpse of Bella, the redhead and a brunette. But there was no sign of Emily, and he was glad. He wasn’t looking for her. He didn’t want to see her again. He didn’t.

It was bad enough that every time he closed his eyes he could see her wounded expression. At night he awoke in a sweat with a raging hard on, thinking about her. He pushed her from his mind, brutally evicting any and all memories, fantasies, ridiculous hopes.  And somehow, she kept slipping back in.

It was damned annoying.