Fixing Ashley (7 page)

Watching her face as she climbs and climbs, brings me closer to my own release. I’m not sure how long I can hold off. It’s been ages for me too, and this woman is the embodiment of every fantasy I’ve had...ever. “Jesus Ashley, are you close?”

Because if she’s not, I’m not sure how long I can hold off.

She nods and moans, unable to form words as she grinds her hips faster and faster against mine. I lean down and suck one nipple into my mouth and kiss her chest, her neck and finally find her lips. I get lost in the feel of her and for one solid moment, my own release isn’t what’s important. I want her to tremble and fall so hard she’ll see stars.

Trailing a hand down her shoulder, then her stomach, I find that magic spot near where we’re joined. Taking a cue from her noises, I know she’s close to finding her bliss. Just when I think I can’t stand anymor
e
—
as my balls get that familiar tingle and my dick gets impossibly harde
r
—
I feel her squeeze me and pull me deep into her as she comes. She’s calling out to God and me, and cursing words I’ve never heard coming out of her pretty, little mouth. I love every moment of seeing her this way.

I pull out of her and push back in several more times, amazed at what I’ve just done, but that burn ignites and swallows me whole as I find my own release, panting and cursing breathily.

“Shit,” I mumble against her neck, feeling the squirmy rubber full of fluids around my softening dick.

Her breathy, little giggle makes me laugh, too, which is probably not a good idea as I’m desperately trying not to make any messes here.

I’m still breathless as I pull out of her, making sure to hold on to the condom. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Ashley’s laying on her back, relaxed with a hand behind her head and her other hand casually resting against her stomach. Looking up at me, the expression on her face clearly amused, she says, “There’s a dumpster out front.” She shrugs, giggling while I stand up and make my way to the bathroom to chuck it in the toilet.

When I come back into the living room, I almost expect her to be getting dressed, but I find her in the same spot, still on her back and completely bare.

I feel a little awkward, standing there naked in the middle of this big, empty house, but she seems comfortable with this, so I carefully lie down next to her and pull her into my arms.

Kissing her neck, I whisper, “Let’s hope nobody tells your clients what we just did on their living room carpet, all right?”

She pulls away from me minutely and examines my face, pinching her lips together. “I don’t think it’ll matter.” She smiles and sighs as she snuggles into me.

Pushing her hair to the side, I kiss her shoulder. “Why not?” If my suspicions are correct, I need for the truth to come out of her mouth.

With her eyes trained on the fireplace in front of us, she whispers, “This was supposed to be
my
dream house, Devon.”

Her confession hits me harder than I thought it would and I pull back as a bunch of different little pieces come together for me. “Um, Ashley?”

She turns her head and looks at me. “My ex-husband bought this land years ago. I love it here,” she explains wistfully. “I made plans, and worked hard making sure all the details were perfect.” She smiles sadly. “My books were supposed to grace those shelves.”

“So,
you
were the client?” I clarify, sweeping some hair out of her face and holding her closer to my body.

She nods and looks away. “With the divorce, I got the house. Unfinished, of course. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.”

I sigh, 'cause I know I should tell her. “I, ahh, I had a visitor the other day.” I lick my lips and search her face.

She frowns, her lips pursing before she speaks. “He was here?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

I nod and press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah. He said to make you happy.”

She shakes her head minutely and closes her eyes. “I was very happy, until I wasn’t.” When she reopens them, there is a sadness there I never want to see again. “Things aren’t always sunshine and roses in any relationship, but when two people work at it, they can get through anything. I was tired of working at it on my own.” Her last words are soft and sad.

I tuck her into my side and breathe her in. I can’t believe we’re still lying here naked and talking about this. “Why won’t you live here anymore?” I gently smooth my hand over her hair, untangling a few strands.

It all makes sense now. Thinking back, I never actually wondered about it much, I suppose, but her actions were those of someone who had been deeply hurt. I want to be the one to fix that for her.

“It’s a big house, Devon. Honestly, I’ve been a real pain in your ass all summer because I...I just don’t know how to let it go, you know?” When I look at her and see her watery eyes, I immediately wrap my arms tight around her; wanting to give her comfort, protect her. I’d do anything for this exceptional woman.

Seeing her happy only moments ago is the only thing that matters. Always. I know it’s not going to be sunshine and unicorns all the time, but damn if I can spend my life trying.

I nod in understanding. This explains so many things. “Then don’t. Don’t give up on your dreams. Not for anyone.”

She smiles softly. “As handy as I a
m
,
” she says confidently, “I’m not sure I could take care of this place very well on my own.”

I kiss her lips. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

Looking at the plans in my hands, I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips.

Ashley never noticed how I’d snuck these out of her office. I’m not sure she would’ve minded. After all, everything she draws up, I end up having a hand in building.

Nowadays, the offices for
Evans Interiors
are located on the second floor over
James Construction
. We converted my old loft space into Ashley’s office. This way, it makes it easier for me to consult with her and her clients.

Together, we’ve been able to take on extra workers. Brad already had a thriving business, but he now works for us more than anyone else.

Laurie can’t be trusted with anything design-wise and she certainly can’t build for shit, but she can schmooze like nobody’s business. She answers the phone and keeps our busy asses organized. The customers seem to love her, so we keep her around. No more serving drinks in a bar that plays non-stop, shitty country music. I still shudder at the thought of having to step inside that place.

All in all, it’s been a wonderful couple of years, filled with a bunch of ups and downs.

Ups being when I convinced Ashley to keep the house because,not only was it her dream house, it was also mine. I’d only worked on the property for six weeks and had fallen completely in love with it. I couldn’t imagine being in Ashley’s shoe
s
—
working on something for over a year and then having to sell it.

I want her to be happy. Always.

I had to promise her I’d help her out with maintaining it. It was difficult at first. We barely knew each other. I mean, who does that? Who moves in with someone they’ve only known for a few weeks?

I guess us...because that was exactly what we did. Once I finished all the renovations and professed my undying love for Ashley, it was inevitable I move into this house with her. She was moving out of her apartment and into the house to keep it from deteriorating until it sold, and I wasn’t going to let her live all the way out here on her own.

Of course, the perspective I had when out on the lake and the view I got when watching Ashley lay outside in the sun surely helped, but neither eclipsed what lay deep inside my heart. I fell in love with her and all her silly Post-it notes, during those first weeks; and nothing could take what I feel for her away from me. Nothing. She’s my other half and it’s that simple.

We may have done things backward, hell, we’re still doing things ass-backward, but it works for us, nonetheless.

Those downs I mentioned? They came when we’d been together for about a year. I asked her to marry me, and she said no.

Not because she doesn’t love me. She loves me with her whole heart and soul. She’s said it and I feel it whenever she’s around. The way she looks at me or treats me, or even in the little things she lets me get away with. It’s undeniable. The heat between us has never flickered. Not once. Not even when I broke one of her beloved antique vases.

No, her answer has always been due to the fact she didn’t want to go through it all again. Divorce is tough on everyone. I couldn’t blame her. So we settled on being perpetually engaged. It worked for a while. It was us and I was oka
y
—
am oka
y
—
with it.

She’s still mine, completely, and always will be. We’ll just wait until she’s ready for that extra step, and if it never comes... I’ve come to accept that wholeheartedly.

Right now she’s off with her sister and my brother’s wife. The three of them are really scary together.

Laurie and Ashley instantly took Eliza as sort of a long-lost extra sister.

Eliza and Mitchel have a couple of little ones now, Riley and Jace, which made Laurie and Ashley instant aunties. You know, that whole incestuous thing Ashley and Laurie teased me about, they’ve both jumped into it feet first and have never looked back. I can hardly remember what life was like before any of this happened, but I’ve never regretted one thing.

Oh yeah, and I will never forget how Laurie and Brad got married within a few months of dating each other. They eloped, around the same time Ashley and I decided we were moving in together.

Seems the Evans sisters are both a little impulsive. Hell, Brad calls them crazy. Not to their faces, of course. Ashley would have my balls if she heard him, and well, I’d like to keep those attached to my body, thank you very much.

Besides, she owns them already, just, you know, the figurative kind of ownership...where they stay attached to me. Which is kind of ironic, since before I met her, nobody had owned any part of me.

Lighting a cig, I inhale deeply, letting the smoke permeate my lungs, while I mentally calculate if I’ve got all the supplies I’ll need gathered around me.

Four by fours, two by fours, hooks, screws, a big oak tree, a plastic slide, one by sixes, two swings...yup, all we need now is the little one.

And that’ll be soon; after he cooks for a few more months.

I’m enjoying this cigarette, letting the plume of smoke escape my lips slowly, savoring the burn in my lungs and the sensation it brings me.

After all, I only have a few more months before I quit that shit.

I made that promise to my fiancée and mother of my child, and I plan on keeping it this time. When she told me she was pregnant, I promised I would quit.

I’ve never broken a promise I made to Ashley, except about smoking, but I’m definitely not going to break this one. With a baby on the way, I can’t fail this time. Besides, I want to be around for as long as possible. If quitting smoking will do that, then I’ll give it a try.

Ashley once confessed the only reason she was on my ass about my smoking was because she enjoyed watching me too much when I did. She thought it was sexy, watching my lips wrap around the little filter as I inhaled, or watching them pucker as I exhaled. After that confession, there was no way I was quitting any time soon. But now, now I will. I have to. Sexy or not, my kid comes first.

Hearing her admission was one of those times where I wanted to call her crazy, but didn’t. Instead, I took her from behind...in the kitchen...over the counter...as she looked outside. Hopefully that kind of thing will still happen after we have kids. I don’t know. According to Mitchel, it gets even better. Time will tell. Either that or I’ll pick up smoking those fake electronic cigarettes once in a while; just to see what Ashley thinks of my lips wrapped around one of those.

Yup, totally gonna happen, I swear.

Ashley was—is—an enigma. I’m still learning things about her. That woman is definitely not predictable. She keeps me on my toes, which is probably why I fell in love with her in the first place.

              The only thing I can predict about her is the long list of Post-it notes that adorn her desk. It’s like an inside joke for us. Fuck, I even buy her those damn things in bulk for Christmas.

Don’t laugh; she loves that shit.

Now, though,I need to figure out how to put this thing together. These plans of her
s
—
her vision. A slide connecting to a treehouse with a couple swings. It’s nice, and the way she has it laid out, any kid would have fun playing on it.

And we’re planning on more kids after this one.

I love it when my nephews visit and I can’t wait till our little one adds to the group.

Laying out the beams, I look over to the house and spot the large window. We’ll be able to watch the kids play. This is unbelievably perfect. Like the rest of the house, Ashley’s design fits. She thought this up; all I’m doing is building it.

I spend a few hours outside in the mid-July sun cutting and assembling pieces of wood. Alone in my thoughts, with nothing but tools and my pack of smokes. My last one, by the way. Oh, I’ve mentioned this? Right, seems I’m having a hard time believing I won’t be a smoker anymore.

Anyway, I make good headway attaching a structure to the large oak tree in the middle of the yard. It’s hard work, trees aren’t perfect, they’re not straight, but in the end once everything is pulled together, it’ll be awesome. This headache is definitely worth it.

“What are you doing out here?” Ashley’s voice breaks me out of my concentration and I look up, meeting her surprised expression.

Smiling, I saunter over to her and rest my hands over her swollen belly. “I found these sketches and thought I’d surprise you.” Feeling the baby kick against my hand, I smile and add, “Apparently this little guy likes it.”

Ashley’s not speaking, and given our history, this is not good. “Ashley?”

“I’ll marry you.” She nods, her eyes surveying what I’ve been working on all day, as a tear rolls down her cheek.

“What?” Narrowing my eyes, I lower my gaze and shift to look her in the eye. “Really?”

“Ask me again. I’ll say yes, Devon. You’re so... I’ll say yes.” She nods in emphasis, her eyes wide and full of happy tears.

Not in a million years did I think doing this would get me what I’ve been wanting. Had I known, I would have built this sooner, dammit. Then again, she only finalized the sketches a few weeks ago. I need a time machine.

I huff. “What is it with you, Ms. Evans? I always have to ask twice, huh?” My tone is playful, and while I say this, I take her hand in mine and get down on one knee. “Ashley Evans, would you
finally
do me the honor of being my wife?”

She throws herself in my arms and hugs me. “Yes, yes, yes.” She’s giggling and kissing me and holding on to me as though I’ll never let her go. And I won’t.

And that’s when I know I’ve done it. I’ve worked hard. We’ve worked together.

It took a while.

But I fixed Ashley.

THE END