Everything You Need (7 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Lyes

BOOK: Everything You Need
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“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know.”

 

Chapter 8

 

Ashton stepped closer to the canvas before him, his hand lifting and his knuckles caressing the image of the girl’s face that was painted with short strokes of the brush. It was Friday, which meant that after today, he was not going to see her for three days, since she said that she wanted a free weekend and had something to do on Monday. Three days. It sounded like forever.

A knock on the door.

He tossed a sheet over the easel and turned to face the visitor. “Come in.”

The door opened and an older lady in a long white coat entered.

“Ann,” Ashton greeted Kalen’s grandmother, with whom he co-owned the gallery; she was his main supporter and cheerleader. If not for her and her enthusiasm for his art, he doubted that his work would have sold as well as it did.

“Ash.” She set the clutch bag on the counter and turned her back to him.

“You’re early.” With three steps he was behind her and he took the coat from her. He laid it over the armchair’s back.

“I came with Ian,” Ann said, as if that explained everything. Her gaze slid around the room and landed on the easel. “You’re working on something new?”

“Yes. Ian, as in Kalen’s cousin?”

“Yes, as in, my good-for-nothing grandson. He’s in a weird mood today, behaving like a child on a sugar high. He’s downstairs, flirting with Ally and Claudia.” She shook her head and strolled to the easel. “And yet, despite his silly behaviour, he has been chosen for a businessman of the year by a magazine.”

Ashton didn’t try to stop her, it would have been futile. He had planned to stash the picture in the storeroom before her visit, but he had wasted too much time staring at the painting. “Kalen says that he has a sharp mind and an almost wicked sense for business.”

“Yes, like his father.” She stopped before the painting and shoved the sheet away. She froze and stared at the canvas for long moments before she turned to him. “Who is she?”

Ann wasn’t just Kalen’s grandmother, she was also Kate’s. It wasn’t surprising that she could distinguish the small differences between the girls even though Kate had been gone for ten years. “A friend.”

“Is that why you have locked yourself up here?”

“Who did you talk to? Claudia or Ally?”

“Both. They don’t only keep me informed about new finds for the gallery, but also about how you are.”

“The same way I keep you informed about Kalen,” Ashton said. “You’re using us well.”

She leaned closer to painting, studying it. “It’s very vibrant, so full of life.” She glanced at him. “So different from your usual fare.”

He shrugged.

“It would look good on the west wall of my reception.”

Which in Ann’s dictionary meant ‘wrap it up.’ “It’s not for sale.”

She pursed her mouth and straightened. “Will that apply to all of the paintings of the girl?”

“Yes.”

“Is that wise?”

He crossed his arms. “Probably not.”

“Does Kalen know?”

“About her?”

She nodded.

“No. And I have no intention of telling him.”

“I see.” She walked to the armchair beside the sofa, patting his shoulder on her way.

“What? Is that all?” With the way she liked to involve herself in the lives of people she loved, he had at least expected a small lecture, along the lines of the one Mary had given him.

“Yes.” She lowered herself into the armchair and smoothed her black pencil skirt over her knees.

“I feel so unloved.”

She chuckled and stretched out her hands. “Come here.”

He obeyed her and bent down so that her fingers could frame his face.

She pulled him closer and pressed a kiss on his forehead, then released him. “There. Better?”

He smiled.

“I would have reprimanded you, but I know you well enough to be aware that whatever I said to you would have fallen on deaf ears.”

“That’s true.”

“See.” She chuckled again, her eyes going to the canvas. Her smile faded. “What is she like?”

“Different.”

A rapping sound against the door before it opened and a blond in a dark suit walked inside. With his tall build and wide shoulders he looked more like a bodyguard than a businessman. He greeted Ashton with a nod of his head and a wide grin.

“There you are,” Ann said. “Just in time.”

“For what?”

“For making us coffee.”

He lifted an eyebrow, a smile still embellishing his face. “But,
Granny
, don’t you employ people for that?”

“Don’t call me Granny.”

He grinned. “Where’s the kitchen?”

“I’ll do it.” Ashton went to the kitchen.

With a hand on Ashton’s shoulder, Ian stopped him. “That’s okay. I know
Granny
only requested I do it because I make such awesome coffee.”

“The pot is in the cabinet to the left of the sink, the coffee is in the cabinet to the left of the stove, and the cups are in the cabinet above the sink,” Ashton told him before he went back to the sofa and sat down. “Why did you bring him with you, anyway?”

“So you two could organize the bachelor party for Kalen.”

“But they haven’t had an engagement party yet.” Which was a must, if you were a grandson of Ann Cromwell.

“That’s what I said,” Ian yelled from the kitchen.

“Does Kalen know you are trying to get us to do this?” Ashton asked.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Ian answered instead of Ann.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Ann said before she focused on Ashton. “A friend of mine is having a little gathering two weeks from now, on Friday evening, and she asked me if I could invite you. She’s such an admirer of your work. She has already bought three of your sculptures and five of your paintings.”

“What time?”

“Around eight-ish. You could bring the girl.”

“So you can torment her like you did Kalen’s girl?” Ian appeared in the studio, juggling three cups in his hands.

Ashton stood up and drew a desk before the sofa.

“I never tormented Rose.”

Ashton arched his eyebrows.

“I was only trying to buy her off.”

“Which you failed to do.” Ian put the cups on the desk.

“Luckily.” Ann took one cup. “Where’s the milk?”

“The coffee that I make should be drunk black.” Ian sat on the sofa’s armrest and took a sip of the coffee. “So?” Over the cup he looked at Ashton. “Who’s ‘the girl’?”

“Just a friend.”

“I’m certain that ‘just a friend’ wouldn’t arouse Ann’s curiosity, not when the count of your ‘just friends’ is quite high.”

Ashton didn’t have to ask where Ian had gotten that information. “As is yours,” he said to Ian, his eyes on Ann. “Or so I’ve heard.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Ian scowling at Ann.

Ignoring them, she took a small sip of the coffee, then frowned and set the cup on the desk. “Too strong.” She turned to Ashton. “Can I tell Layne that you are coming?

“Layne?”

“The friend with the small collection.”

“I’ll come. It’s the least I can do for a serial buyer, just don’t expect me to stay long.”

“I’ll let her know.” She pressed the tips of her fingers together in an inverted V. “Now, let’s get to business. Where are you two going to take Kalen?”

Ashton and Ian exchanged glances.

“You have to take it easy,” Ian said. “This is not one of your business deals, where you have to stick to a deadline.”

“It’s easy for you to say that, but...”

“What?” Ian asked, then a wide smile appeared on his face and mirth danced in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, you want great-grandchildren.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Ann pressed her mouth together. “If I wanted great-grandchildren, all I’d have to do is to hire a private investigator to dig through your past conquests. I’m quite certain there’s a child hidden in there somewhere.”

Ashton stifled a chuckle.

“And that goes for you too.” Ann lifted her arm and gently slapped the top of Ashton’s head.

“But Ann, I’m not your grandson.”

“Such an insignificant detail.”

“Oh.” Ashton covered the part of the chest where his heart was with both hands. “I feel so loved.”

She rolled her eyes and lifted her nose, giving them both a look of contempt. “You two are enjoying torturing this old woman far too much.” She rose. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ian stood and lowered the cup to the desk.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, at the staff meting,” she said to Ashton.

“I rescheduled it.” Since next week Kris had all afternoon shifts, he wanted to have his mornings free, even though they had only planned for three sessions, on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. He would have preferred to see her daily, but she said that she wasn’t available.

“I know.”

“There’s not much that she doesn’t know,” Ian said.

“Is it because of her?” She nudged her chin at the easel.

“Maybe.”

“I would like to meet her.”

“You can’t,” Ashton said, then added, “Not yet, anyway.” He wasn’t ready to share her with anybody, but somehow he wasn’t certain that he ever would. She was his special find, a fragile gift that life had given him, and he wanted to keep her to himself.

 

#

 

Ashton stood by the window, his arms crossed as he drank in the sight of Kris, who was by the sofa taking off her coat. “You are beautiful.”

She hung the coat on the coat tree by the door. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Of course it is.”

“It is.” In three steps he was beside her. “To me you are beautiful.”

She faced him, frowning. “That’s because you see
her
in me.”

“It’s not just that.”

“Than what is it?”

He couldn’t explain what it was. Yes, she looked like Kate and yes, that was why he had asked her to pose for him, but... She was Kris, the sweet girl who hid behind shyness as if it were a shield.

“I talked to your friend; Mary, I think her name is.”

“Mary? When? What did she say?” Nothing good probably.

“That you sleep around and that you want to sleep with me.”

It was true, on both accounts. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to have sex with you.” He touched her shoulder and leaned over her. “Is that a bad thing? To find you attractive?”

A sigh left her throat. “I don’t want you --”

“I’m not saying that you have to sleep with me. It’s just... I like you. A lot.”

She pressed her fingers against her temple. “Don’t tell me things that you think I want to hear, please,” she said in a small voice.

“I’m not saying that you are beautiful or that I like you because I think you want to hear that.”

“Than why?”

“Because it’s true.”

“To get me into bed.”

He waved at the surroundings. “There’s no bed here.”

“You know what I mean.”

This time it was he who sighed. “Yes, it’s true, I want to sleep with you, I already said that, but I won’t lie to you to get you to have sex with me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Promise?”

He couldn’t help but smile. She was cute.

Her gaze darkened. “Promise?”

“I promise.” With the back of his knuckles he caressed her face. “Oh, Kris, if you really knew what you are doing to me...” The truth would scare her away, but maybe scaring her away was a good thing -- for her, that was. She should know what kind of a guy he was; the good, the bad, and the worst. She should see the crudest version of him, that was the least he could do for her. He stepped closer.

She shifted backwards, her arm bumped against the wall. “What am I doing to you?”

“You are driving me crazy.”

She frowned.

“So crazy.” He bent down and his mouth brushed against the curve of her ear. “I want to touch you, to slide my hands over your body and to feel your body’s every dip, every curve.”

She took a step backwards.

He followed and, setting his forearm beside her head, he trapped her between the wall and his body. “I want to bury myself in you.” An image of her flushed face and slightly opened mouth flashed before his eyes; he could see her writhing under him. “I want to fuck you, hard,” he said, refusing to use a milder word, because that’s how he was, he fucked; he didn’t make love, even though he wanted to make love to her, slowly and gently at first and then hard and fast.

Shivering, she lowered her head.

“I want to fuck you so hard that you can still feel my cock inside you the next day.” He wanted to imprint himself into her so deeply that she would never be able to forget him, that she wouldn’t be able to erase the memory of him from her mind, that he would haunt her the same way she was haunting him -- but it wasn’t her who was haunting him. It was Kate.

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