Dust of Snow (13 page)

He leaned forward again, questions I was sure
I wanted to avoid sparking in his eyes. “Where are you spending
Christmas?”

“At my mother’s.” Well, I could spend it at
my mother’s. I was glad when my drink arrived with the appetizer
close on its heels. “Dig in,” I said, and was pleased when Ashley
did.

“You get on well with your mom?” he
asked.

“Yeah, I really do. She’s very special to me.
Why? Don’t you get along with yours?” I could tell immediately by
the abrupt silence that I’d planted a foot in my mouth—surgical
removal required.

“We get on all right.” He kept his eyes on
the chips and triangles of pita bread. “You could have called me,
you know.”

“For what?” I didn’t know why I felt
relieved, but I did.

He shrugged with one shoulder. “To look at
your fuse box.” He rolled his eyes when I snorted. “Or you know, if
you needed somewhere to stay.”

“Thanks, but it’s Christmas. I didn’t want to
intrude.”

“You wouldn’t have.” I watched in silence as
he plucked another piece of bread off the plate with blunt but
elegant fingers. His face cleared and he smiled wickedly when his
eyes met mine again. “I could’ve used the help. My niece has
convinced them all I’ve been texting my boyfriend.”

That startled me into a loud laugh that
turned a few heads at the tables around us. He laughed along with
me, never looking away. He looked so lovely I ached. His cheeks
were a bit rosy, a leftover from the cold, and the subdued
Christmas lighting in the bar cast orange and red glows over his
thick hair. It lay loose over his forehead, like he’d washed it and
let it air dry without running a comb through it. My fingers itched
to touch.

Around us the bar filled up. People who’d
been dining were slowly being replaced by groups of partygoers
drinking. Waiters and waitresses still tried to make their way
through the throngs, but they were having a hard time of it.

“I’ll go get us another drink,” I said, but
Ashley waved me down.

“This one’s on me,” he said. “You want the
same?”

I shouldn’t really, since I had to drive home
and these things were pretty strong, but I said, “Sure, why
not.”

Ashley stood and weaved his way toward the
bar, and I kept my eyes on him the entire time, which explained why
I didn’t see the guy approach until he sat down opposite me.

“Hi.”

At first I thought he was a boy with his
large baby blues, wispy hair so blond it looked almost white, and a
huge, guileless smile.

“Uh…” I blinked. “Hi.”

“I’m Jake.” He looked me up and down.
Definitely not a boy.

Had I met him before? He stared at me as if
we had, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember him. “Gregory,”
I said. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

He laughed and dipped his head. Reaching for
a forgotten straw wrapper, he began to roll it up and straighten it
out. “No, unfortunately.”

“So, what can I do for you then?” I asked,
dragging my empty glass closer just so I had something to hold on
to.

Jake smiled, his eyes crinkling at the
corners. “Is the other guy your boyfriend?”

“Ashley?” Oh.
Ohhh
, now I got it.
Crap. My insides clenched. “No. We… uh, we work together.”
Reluctantly I added, “And I don’t think he’s seeing anyone right
now.” Why was I saying this to a stranger?

The straw wrapper was completely smooth when
Jake lifted his eyes from it and gazed right at me. He looked
stunned for a moment and blinked slowly. His eyelids were huge, and
rounded off with long lashes so pale I had to look hard to see
them. “I wasn’t…” He cleared his throat, smiled shyly, and began
fidgeting again. “I wasn’t asking for
him
.”

What.

I struggled for something to say, but before
I could, a drink appeared in front of me, and instead of waiting
for Jake to get up, Ashley slid into the seat beside me.

“Hi,” he said to Jake, holding out a hand.
Jake stared at it for a second before shaking it. “I’m sorry, I
didn’t see you there or I would’ve brought you a drink. You’re a
friend of Gregory’s?”

“No, actually.” Jake smiled but there was an
edge to it this time. “We just met.”

Ashley’s gaze shifted from Jake to me, his
eyebrows rising in a question I didn’t understand. “This is Jake,”
I offered lamely. And then came up empty. What else could I say?
The notion that he’d come over to hit on me hadn’t sunk in yet.

“I see,” Ashley said. “Well, I didn’t mean to
interrupt.” He grabbed his drink and went to stand, but I took hold
of his arm.

“Where are you going?” I asked.
I don’t
want you to go
.

Opposite me Jake looked between us, and then
the real smile was back. He stood up, taking the straw wrapper with
him. “My mistake,” he said with a glint in his eye. “It was me who
didn’t mean to interrupt.” He winked at me, mouthed something that
looked like
good luck
, and left.

“What was that?” I asked.

Ashley turned in his seat and gave me an
incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? That kid wanted to take you
to the barn, giddyup, and call you Daddy.”

I felt my face go beet red. “He wasn’t—he
wouldn’t—that’s not—”

Ashley smiled a bit, and the strain left his
face. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a chance? He was very
pretty.”

“He was, but no. I’m okay, thanks.”

Ashley leaned closer, his knee pressing to
mine. “Not because of David still?”

I took a drink, set the glass down, and shook
my head. “No, Ash.” Our eyes caught and held. “Not because of
David.”

The moment stretched. My heartbeat sped up
and my palms began to sweat. I wanted to reach for him and find out
what his kisses felt like so badly I could feel myself tremble. He
leaned toward me and—

A loud crash of shattering glass made us
jump. We both looked away. I wondered if Ashley would take a seat
at the other side of the table again, but he didn’t. He just
stretched out his legs and fiddled with his glass. I downed my
drink just as a waitress made it to our table and took an order for
another.

“What are you doing for New Year’s?” Ashley
asked.

“Nothing very exciting. You?”

“I was thinking about going to the fireworks
show downtown. Want to come?”

“Yeah,” I immediately said. “Yes, that would
be great.” He smiled and looked away, drinking from his beer. A
deeper excitement began to bloom in my belly, the kind I hadn’t
felt in a long time. This wasn’t just him being polite. Going to
the New Year’s Eve fireworks would very much feel like a date, but
I didn’t have the balls to ask if that was what it was. Instead, I
reached for my glass again.

NINE

ALL ALONG ASH’s street Christmas lights glowed. His
were all white, and they made the snow glint and glitter in the
darkness. Real icicles, large and small, hung from his gutters and
they glinted too, as if they had lights inside them. I saw the
beauty of winter in the tranquil scenery, which didn’t happen very
often. I could practically hear carols being piped in.

I waited for him to pull into his garage, and
then parked on the driveway behind him. I was coming back for
another drink because the bar had gotten too loud. Apparently there
was a lot of holiday tension to burn off, and we hadn’t been able
to hear ourselves think, let alone talk. I winced when I realized
that was something my mother would say. I was officially getting
old.

I was also officially going to Ash’s house
for the first time.

When I stepped out of my car, the air smelled
of snow, and for a brief second I let myself imagine a blizzard and
being trapped here all night. Maybe longer…

Ash touched my wrist and I startled a little,
realizing I’d been daydreaming. About being trapped here when I
lived only a block away. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

He smiled, dimples going deep. “That’s all
right. I would’ve thought you couldn’t wait to get out of the
cold.”

“It’s a beautiful night. Perfect Christmas
Eve.”

Ash lifted his gaze to the sky, but there
were no stars. Fat flakes of snow drifted down and caught in his
hair and eyelashes. An odd expression flitted over his face, and
his smile stretched. “It is.”

I was about to look up to see what he saw
when he kissed me, his mouth landing a little hard on mine. After a
stunned second the kiss grew soft, and then hesitant, like Ashley
might stop. I stepped closer, my leather gloves slipping as I tried
to grip his coat. I tilted my head and slid my bottom lip between
his, warm and a little wet. The kiss deepened, his cold nose
pressed against my cheek, and a giddy laugh bubbled from my throat.
Ashley straightened, dimples appearing on his slightly pink
cheeks.

“There,” he murmured. “I had to get that out
of the way or I wouldn’t have managed to think about anything
else.”

“Christ,” I mumbled weakly. “Like I’ll be
able to now.”

He chuckled and led me inside so we could
divest ourselves of our winter armor. “Do you want coffee or tea or
something? Or another drink?”

“I’d like that,” I said, peering around as I
followed him through to the heart of the house. Despite looking new
on the outside, the inside was surprisingly well lived in—the
furnishings nice, but decidedly not pristine. A large grandfather
clock stood in the hallway, the wind-up holes scratched around
their circumference, as if someone had lovingly wound it up for
years until their hands had become too unsteady to do it.

“There’s another reason I kissed you.”

I’d been pulling out a barstool by the
kitchen island. I froze. “Oh?”

Ashley had his back to me. He opened a
cabinet with a few wine bottles in it. Without turning he pulled a
corkscrew from a drawer, and two wine glasses from an apothecary
cabinet beside the patio doors. He set to opening the wine. “I
wanted to do it before I told you… everything.”

Well, that didn’t sound ominous at
all
.

“In that case…” I shoved the barstool back
under the island and Ash whipped around, his eyes wide. They
widened even farther when I stalked toward him rather than away,
which was what he must’ve expected. I took the corkscrew from his
limp fingers, wrapped my arms around his middle, and stood on my
toes a bit—just enough so I could kiss him. He made a surprised
little noise, but his arms came around me like we were used to this
already.

I’d sort of meant it to be a joke, something
to lighten the air a little, but instead it grew a whole different
kind of heavy. Ash opened his mouth when I licked at his bottom
lip, and I slipped my tongue inside. His felt smooth, smoother than
I was used to, and it made me wonder if mine felt like a cat’s. The
thought made me huff a little laugh, and Ashley leaned back, not
letting go.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said, moving away as I tried to
steady my breathing. “So what do you need to tell me?”

“If we order food first, might that give you
extra incentive to stay?”

It warmed me that he didn’t want me to go—and
that he was afraid that I might. “I don’t need any incentives to
stay, Ash.” He stared at me, blinking rapidly three times. “But I’d
slap a nun for some Wonton soup.”

Ashley snorted, the air all clear again. An
old, slightly cracked drawer from the apothecary cabinet revealed a
couple of menus, one from the same Chinese place where I got my
takeout.

“I’m not sure how late they’re open on
Christmas Eve,” Ashley said.

I gave him a disgustingly smug smile.
“They’ll deliver for me.”

He was still gaping at me a full minute after
I’d rattled off our order in fluent Mandarin. “Holy fuck,” he
finally managed. “That should not have been as hot as it was.”

“Glad you approve,” I laughed.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Night classes. Audio tapes.” Lots of lonely
spare time, I didn’t add.

Ashley finished opening the wine, and I
barely resisted kissing him again while we waited for our late
dinner.

Forty minutes later we sat at the kitchen
table. “Do you want to top?”

I inhaled a noodle, coughing roughly. “Excuse
me?”

Ashley held out the wine bottle. “Do you want
a top up?”

Christ.
Get your mind out of the gutter,
Gregory
. “Sure.” I lifted my glass so he could fill it. It felt
oddly formal to sit at his kitchen table—a very heavy frosted glass
affair that didn’t quite fit the rustic ambience of the rest of the
house. But I could see the advantage of how easy it would be to
clean, especially when I knocked against the glass and spilled some
of the wine. “I have been house trained,” I assured him as I mopped
up the mess. Ashley grinned at me and I grinned back.

Sitting here like this with Ash felt very
much like a date. A good date, even though the conversation very
obviously skirted around the things Ashley needed to talk about. A
good date that had already featured kissing. I hoped Santa had more
of it in store, but I worried about what Ashley wanted to tell
me.