Ash Rising (DEAd Series) (34 page)

Andy tipped his head back and forth, not disagreeing, but not agreeing, either. Ash took a closer look at his friend’s face. “Things are okay between you and Lisa, right?”

Andy grimaced, and Ash didn’t mistake the expression for a smile. “Things are different.”

“Bad different?”

“Not good different.”

“Andy.” Ash didn’t know what to say. Andy and Lisa had been together for years.

“Not because of you. I didn’t mean that. It’s just gotten worse lately, I guess. We’ve been through shit before. Hoping we’ll work through this one, too. Eventually.”

“I hope so, too.”

Ash stood and put his hand on Andy’s shoulder, offering sympathy and support before heading inside the house. Emma was in the kitchen with Lisa, who poked at something in the oven. Emma glanced over her shoulder with a smile, flushed and dewy from the heat, hair curling out of control, looking at him like he was the only thing in her world. Just like that, his heart turned over in his chest. Ash pulled her close to place a sound kiss smack on her lips.

“Wow.” Her fingers touched her mouth, eyes hazy with pleasure. “Thanks. What was that for?”

“Just because I love you.”

Her eyes lit up, and she hugged him. “Well, then. You can do that all day.”

He kissed her again, a quick little taste, before letting go. “I think we should open a bottle of champagne, what do you say?”

“I’ll take any excuse to open champagne,” she agreed. “I’ll go grab a bottle. Or two.”

“I’ll get it,” Andy offered. “Any excuse to raid Jack’s wine cellar.”

“Ash’s wine cellar, now,” Lisa corrected. “Not his dad’s.”

Andy’s step stuttered before he nodded, casting Ash an apologetic look.

“My dad didn’t know shit about wine before he met my mom.” Ash broke the uncomfortable silence. He held out a chair for Emma at the breakfast bar and pulled on a loose curl when she sat. “He pretended at first to impress her, but then he really did get interested. Wine became a passion of theirs, something they shared. I’ve tried to keep his cellar up to par with how he had it, and I’ve become interested, too.”

“You don’t have to talk about your parents, Ash,” Lisa told him. “Andy’s an idiot. He shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m okay,” Ash replied easily, and he was. He took Emma’s hand. “I don’t mind talking about Mom and Dad. I like telling Emma about them. They would have loved you, Emmaline.”

“And me them, I’m sure. I wish I could have known them.”

“Oh, you will, because I’ve got tons of stories.”

“Stories about who?” Andy came back into the kitchen, juggling a chilled bottle and four glasses.

“Mom and Dad. I was telling Emma about how Dad used to bullshit about wine until he actually started learning something.”

“You want stories?” Andy filled the stemware with sparkling, frothy wine. “Lisa and I can tell you stories, especially about our boy here. Not to mention ones about his mom and dad. And Daniel.”

“Emma and I had lunch with Maggie and Abby the other day,” Ash commented. With Emma’s support and presence, he’d been able to face Daniel’s widow and young daughter without the usual crushing guilt and actually enjoy the afternoon. “They’re doing well. Abby’s turning into quite the little diva, just like her dad.”

“She’s lovely,” Emma said as she took a glass from Andy. “They both are. It was great to meet them.
She was so happy to see her Uncle Ash.”

“I think we should have three,” Ash said casually, leaning against the counter. He kept a faint smile on his face but watched her carefully.

“What?”

Emma, Andy, and Lisa froze, staring at him in shock. He shrugged, enjoying their astonishment.

“You know. Kids. We should have at least one of each. And an extra of either kind.”

Emma’s eyes grew suspiciously moist as she clutched the spoon in her hand, but she rallied, like the strong woman she was. She met and surpassed him in strength, character, and spirit, and he loved her for it.

“We’ll put that on the table for negotiation,” she whispered.

“I’m going to be pretty stubborn about wanting a boy and a girl. Just so you know.”

“You can be as stubborn as you want, but until you carry them for nine months and then squeeze them out after hours of unbelievable pain and torture, your bargaining position is a little shaky.”

He barely remembered Lisa and Andy were in the room. All he could see was Emma. His future. “What if I threw marriage in the deal? Does that make my negotiations stronger or weaker?”

“Before or after?” she countered, arching a brow.

“Before. Definitely before.”

She gave him a trembling smile. “It helps.”

“Okay then.” He picked up the tray to get the steaks off the grill, taking in every nuance of her reaction. “We’ll open the negotiations at a later time.”

Emma sagged against the counter, her hand shooting out to support her weight. “Holy shit.
Holy shit
. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I think he is,” Lisa murmured, turning back to the sink.

Ash winked, and Emma did a little dance in the middle of the kitchen.

They managed to get dinner on the table, and Ash couldn’t stop touching her while they ate—brushing shoulders, thighs, trapping her foot under his. When Andy asked if she’d heard from superiors at the DEA about how long they planned to keep her in Toronto, he took her hand as she answered.

“The DEA sent me notice they’re going to transfer me to the Buffalo office,” Emma told them. Groans and boos sounded all around, but he just gave her fingers a supportive squeeze. “I’ll commute on the weekends and down time between here and there—”

“And I’ll be going there a lot, too,” Ash added.

“So they’re taking you off the case?” Lisa asked. “Rico and Gina’s murders?”

“Yeah. The RCMP is more than capable of continuing with the case. I’ll be lending whatever assistance necessary from our side, but the DEA wants me back in the ranks. There’s no more reason for me to go back undercover with the Salvatore op. We’re drug enforcement, not murder cops.”

“So no clues? No leads or anything?” Lisa pressed.

“We’ll keep the investigation active on this end,” Andy said. “We’ll find out who’s responsible. Sometimes with these cartels and runners it takes a while, but they all make a mistake eventually.”

“Let’s not ruin dinner with anymore about that subject,” Emma insisted. “Tonight is for eating, drinking, and being merry.”

“And celebrating being together.” Ash lifted his drink in a toast, and four champagne glasses met in the middle.

Emma’s favorite part of the day was coming home to the lake house after work, knowing that if Ash wasn’t there, he would be soon. She didn’t take that for granted. He hadn’t brought up their negotiations again, but he would, or she would, as soon as things settled with her job. She’d heard rumblings from her superiors at the DEA about her next assignment. Wouldn’t be long before they didn’t have the luxury of coming home to each other every night, but whatever happened, they’d come home to each other eventually.

“Ash?”

Emma set her keys and bag on the counter. She hadn’t paid much attention outside—nothing had seemed out of place or unusual—but inside the house, something felt…off. His car wasn’t in the garage, but the kitchen was spotless. Weird, because they’d left the house a wreck. She’d intended to pick up after the debauchery of the night before, but he’d joined her in the shower that morning. They’d both been very late when they finally stumbled, laughing and groping, out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. After inhaling food and coffee, they’d made separate dashes for their cars and left dirty dishes all over the counters.

Opening the dishwasher, she saw the cups, plates, and bowls neatly racked and ready to be cleaned. Her senses sharpened, and she went still in the middle of the room to slow her breathing. No sound other than the usual background hum of the house met her ears. Ash couldn’t be home already. He’d had a meeting at RCMP headquarters in Ottawa and wouldn’t be back until later. Probably still in the car on his way.

“Ash?” she called, just in case.

When he didn’t answer, she fished the cell phone out of her bag. In the family room, the throw blanket that had been knocked to the floor the night before was neatly folded and placed on the back of the sofa. The clothes they’d left in a trail from the great room, down the hall, and into the bedroom had also been picked up. With at least an eight hour drive round trip, no way Ash beat her home to pick up dirty dishes and scattered clothes. Her skin tightened, a premonition a cop never dismissed.

Someone had been in the house.

Might still be in the house, for all she knew. She pressed the speed dial for Ash’s cell phone and let her finger hover over the send button. If he’d somehow managed to get home before her and straighten the house she’d feel like a knucklehead, but she was too smart to let that stop her. Better a knucklehead than dead.

Nothing appeared to be out of place in the study as she passed, the other two bedrooms empty and pristine as always. Emma slowed her steps, still holding her finger over the send button of the phone. Her other hand on her weapon, she walked through the house toward the open door of the master suite. Adrenaline surged when she spotted a figure near the dresser on the far side of the bed. Blowing out a breath, she forced her hand away without drawing her gun when she recognized who stood in the bedroom.

“Lisa?” What the hell was Lisa doing in the house? Surely Ash would have told her if he expected his friend to drop by. “What are you doing here? Is Andy with you?”

Lisa didn’t respond. Emma walked farther into the room as Lisa wandered over to the bed, skimming her fingers over the comforter as she passed.

“Is this where you sleep with him? With Ash?” Lisa asked in a low voice.

Um, okay. Why in the hell would Lisa ask something like that? “What?”

“I’ve known him as long as I can remember. Longer than anyone else alive.”

“I know you have.” Emma stepped to the side so she still faced Lisa directly as the other woman moved around the bed. “I wasn’t expecting you. Did you, uh, clean up in here?”

The thought creeped her out a little—okay, a lot, actually. Lisa was an old and close friend of Ash’s, but Emma wasn’t comfortable with someone else having a key and the alarm code. She’d ask him to do something about that as soon as possible.

“I noticed he isn’t using a condom,” Lisa continued in the same even tone.

How the hell she could know something like that…
Oh
.
Ew
. And what the hell?

A smile twitched at Lisa’s mouth, and her next words confirmed what Emma suspected. “Nothing in the garbage can in the bathroom, even though, from clothes all over the floor, he obviously fucked you last night. He’s something, our Ash. My Ash.”

A fierce expression flashed across Lisa’s face before she calmed. Something was very, very wrong.

“I don’t see what business it is of yours.” Emma’s hand instinctively moved to her hip, closer to her weapon.

“Of course it’s my business. He’s always been my business.” Lisa glared at Emma. “He’s been mine for as long as I can remember. I’m the only one who’s been with him from the beginning. Everyone else is gone.”

She made a disturbing sound, almost a giggle, and the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck stood up. The sensation got worse when Lisa went from the weird giddiness to sober anger in a flash.

“I’m the one who helped him, who’s been there for him, supported him and loved him no matter what. Unconditionally. Unreservedly. I was there with him growing up, through our teens. When he was hurt. Who do you think knocked him down only to build him back up again? Me, that’s who. I love him enough to do that. I was there when he woke from the coma, helped him through his recovery and rehab. I put up with his moods and anger, his guilt. My hard work put him there, and my hard work brought him back. I should be the one reaping the rewards. Me. Not you.”

She took a step closer. “This is my house.
Mine
. I’ve been a part of his life, a part of this house, for over twenty years. I know all his secrets, all the private parts of him. That’s mine, too, and you’ll never have any of him.”