Eleven

ELEVEN

B efore we left, I apologized to Kiyomi and Noel about kissing my boyfriend at the back of their sweet little store.

"Well, since you two are the only ones in here at the moment," Kiyomi teased me, "I'll forgive you."

"And since you've only been together for a day, that kind of thing is to be expected," Noel said knowingly. "Best go back to the inn and stay there."

It was both embarrassing and funny.

"They think we're horny teenagers," Ash said as we left the store with two pieces of warm blueberry cobbler and two travel cups of tea. "Like we have no self-control at all."

When I shrugged, he laughed.

"Fine," he acquiesced, "but I will remind you that we did not have sex in their bathroom, which to me, showed a staggering amount of willpower."

"Agreed," I said and took his hand.

Halfway back, the rain started really coming down again, at which point we realized we'd left the umbrella at the bookstore. We ducked inside the empty visitor center, where there were several benches in the lobby, to wait for it to slow to a drizzle.

"Is that blueberry cobbler from Avalon?" Kyle asked us. I knew it was Kyle because of his spiffy lobster nametag.

"It is," Ash told the twentysomething young man. "And normally I would share, but?—"

"Oh no, dude, I get it. Kiyomi's cobbler is legendary. But I will have to run over there and get some."

"Could we ask you to grab our umbrella while you're there? It belongs to the inn, and we forgot it."

"I'll get it 'cause you'll need it, but folks leave those all over town every day, and they always get returned. I think they made them that horrible neon yellow just for that reason. Hard to indefinitely borrow something you can see all the way down the street."

Ash agreed, gave Kyle twenty bucks, and told him to please bring it back. The young man thanked him and then asked us to watch the place while he was gone.

"We don't have a public bathroom, but for you guys, there's a key under the counter back there. All the pamphlets are free, and the walking ghost tour information is on the table with the black tablecloth, and the historical tour is on the table with the blue one."

"Got it," I assured him as he walked out the front door. After a moment, I turned to Ash. "Why do I feel like even if we weren't here, Kyle was leaving for cobbler?"

"Because he was," Ash agreed, glancing around. "Now I feel like he should have paid us to babysit the place."

I was chuckling as I passed him his container of cobbler.

"Though, I mean, as jobs go, it seems pretty easy."

"Awfully judgmental of you," I commented.

"In what way? What could possibly happen? Do you think he has visitor-center emergencies? What would that even entail?"

"Brochure tampering," I offered, tipping my head at the counter. "Pen and keychain theft, along with whatever else is up there."

Ash surveyed the various items. "There are blanks of Kyle's lobster nametag, so I guess they make those while you wait, and also can cozies, you know, the ones you put around your beer on the golf course."

This was news. "Do you golf?"

"No, but I've seen them in movies," he said, glancing around. "This must be what fish feel like in a bowl."

"It is a lot of glass," I agreed.

We had our tea and dessert, and it was amazing.

"That might be the best cobbler I've ever had," Ash commented, throwing everything away behind the counter. "And it was very interesting that we both only added milk to our tea. Yet another thing we have in common."

"Oh? What other things do we have in common?" I asked him as an older couple walked in with three boys of various ages.

The father, I was guessing—he already looked tired, and it wasn't even two yet—walked over to Ash—he was behind the counter, after all—and asked him for information on the ghost tours he'd been hearing about.

"Right over there," Ash directed him. "Black tablecloth."

They all walked over, and the father picked up the brochure, looked it over, glanced at me, then Ash, spoke to his family, and then the five of them went out the door.

"I think we look shady," I told him.

"Or…" He chuckled as the youngest came running back, opened the door, and asked Ash if he was in White Rabbit . "I am. I played Jericho with the knives."

"I knew it! I told them, but they didn't believe me." The little boy, who I was thinking was maybe eight, squealed and gestured for his family.

The five of them rushed the counter to talk to Ash. Mom gushed, Dad was very serious and respectful, and the boys just wanted to tell him how awesome he was in the movie where he was a superhero who used his brain, a lot of gadgets, and of course, the twin katanas. The tagline was: No suit, just brains .

Of course the parents had seen many of his movies, and told him so as they all took lots of pictures together. Once they left, I was smiling at him.

"What?"

"I just thought it was interesting when they said that a lot of your other movies, the kids weren't old enough to see, but White Rabbit , that was rated R for…what was it?"

"Bloody violence, language, probably crude humor. The list goes on."

"That kid was how old?"

"Don't be that guy. There are video games more bloody than that movie."

"Speaking of movies, come sit by me so I can tell you about the talk I had with my buddy Rais."

"Oh no," he said with a groan.

I held out my hand to him, and he came and sat down beside me, taking mine in both of his, meeting my gaze.

"The body in the car has been officially identified as Kit Riggs. I'm so sorry."

He exhaled slowly. "We figured it was him, right?"

"We did."

"Okay," he said, and pulled out his phone.

He had to call his agent; he'd promised he would. He put him on FaceTime. Levi Klein was a striking man with dark hair and eyes, and he was very sympathetic and told Ash how sorry he was.

"After it's announced on the news, I want flowers sent to his mother," Ash said softly. "Could your assistant do that for me?"

Levi nodded, but his eyebrow lifted.

"What?"

"I wondered, because I haven't seen anyone new on the email chain, but are we still between assistants, or is the man I keep seeing in pictures with you that are popping up online, who's sitting right there beside you—hello," he greeted me, "your new PA?"

"Yes, I'm still looking for someone, so if you'd like to send me some candidates, that would be great."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're going to let me help you this time instead of trying to find someone organically ?" he asked, emphasizing the last word, drawing it out with a lot of flair.

"What does that even mean?" I asked Ash.

"I just—you know when you're at dinner or in a store and someone very helpful comes along, and you know they would be a good fit because they have such great energy?"

I scowled at him. "Have you lost your mind?"

"What?"

"Did you just say that you hire people because you like their vibe ?"

"I—"

"Do you actually do that?"

He looked unsure. "Are you mad that I do that? Because you sound mad."

"I'm horrified," I was adamant. "When you hire people, you need to see references, you need to run a background check, have someone qualified vet them and ask them tough questions, and for you, especially, they need to be able to understand boundaries and what privacy means for you. And it should go without saying that they be bonded and insured since they will have access to some kind of credit card to buy gifts, to pay for parking, to pay for plane tickets and flowers for friends."

"I—"

"Lastly, they will be required, no question, to sign an ironclad NDA."

"Preach!" Levi yelled, leaning in close to the camera for a moment, and then back out. "You are absolutely right about everything. Who are you, because you're brilliant and we agree on everything, and that's a fucking miracle because everyone else in his life is insane."

Ash groaned. "That's not true."

"Yes it is, ohmygod, yes it is."

"You're painting a?—"

"You need people to say no. Right now I'm the only one who does, and you're just lucky I have the most power."

"Not anymore."

"Oh no? Why not?"

"Levi Klein, this is my boyfriend, Cooper Davis. Coop, this is Levi."

"Good to meet you, Levi," I said, smiling at him.

"Boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"You heard it right," Ash groused.

"And Cooper seems to be in alignment with me on things, how interesting."

"I don't think?—"

"He's gorgeous and smart. Where have you been hiding him?" he demanded. "When did you meet? I will be asked, so I need to know."

I could tell Ash was hesitant, but he took a breath to answer anyway.

Before he could, I told Levi, "We met about a month ago. Nick Madison gave a surprise concert at the Hollywood Bowl. Did you hear about that?"

"Yes. I follow him on all his socials, so of course while I'm having drinks at a ski lodge in Vail, that's when I find out he's singing his heart out back home in LA. I was just sick. I love that man."

"We all love him, right?" I teased.

"I love him more, but do go on."

"Well, Ash was there, and I came along as one of Nick's guests, so that's how we first crossed paths."

Levi gasped and stared at Ash. "You know Nick Madison?"

Ash glanced at me and then back to Levi. "Yeah. We met that night."

"Ashford Lennox! The next time you see him or he's in town or you fly wherever it is to see him, I expect to be taken along. Do you understand?"

He needed Levi going crazy about this, it helped with the news about Kit, and I had to wonder if Levi knew that as well. I was having warm, fuzzy feelings toward my boyfriend's agent. Good to know he had a man like that in his corner.

" A month you've hidden this from me," Levi said, motioning to me and smiling wide, clearly delighted. "You sneak. How did you do that?"

"Cooper lives in Chicago."

"Ohmygod, why ?" Levi asked me, sounding horrified, his brows furrowed. "It's cold in the winter and humid and hot in the summer. We need to get you out of there, like, yesterday." He shuddered. "Chicago, with the seasons and everything. That's just terrible."

I chuckled.

"Are you an actor, Cooper?"

"No, sir, I'm a fixer."

I could actually see his brain working things out as he sat quietly for a moment. "Oh!" he gasped when he got it. "You work for that wonderful Mr. Colter, don't you?"

"Would we say wonderful?" I grimaced.

"Yes, we certainly would."

"Well, he did give me time off so I could come along with my colleague, who's here protecting Ash."

"Your colleague must be quite good at his?—"

"Or her," I corrected him.

"Or her," he repeated, "yes, of course. Her job because I've only seen you in the photos."

"Well, fixers are supposed to blend."

"That's amazing."

I waggled my eyebrows at him, and Ash curled a piece of hair around my ear before sliding his fingers over my jaw.

"Oh, do please come out and visit Ash so we can meet in person. I would love to get to know you, as he seems quite fond."

"I hope he's fond."

"I'm enthralled," Ash murmured.

I turned to look at him.

"I've added that word to go along with enchanted ."

"Well, now," Levi said, with a sigh.

Ash wrapped up the call then. Levi reiterated how happy he was to meet me, and that he would make sure there would be a lavish yet tasteful arrangement of flowers delivered to Kit's mother by late morning tomorrow, and that there would be assistant résumés in Ash's inbox later tonight.

"Thanks, Levi," Ash told him. "You're the best."

"Yes, I know." He winked, and with a last wave to me, hung up.

Ash groaned. "Not that I didn't appreciate the help, but that is a whopper of a lie you just told my agent. And now I'm going to need to call Nick Madison out of the blue, and he'll think I'm a psychopath."

"Oh?"

"The worst part is, I have no idea how to get his number. Levi is the one who normally puts me in touch with people."

I kissed his cheek. "Did I forget to mention during our whirlwind twenty-four hours that my buddy is married to Nick Madison?"

It took him a moment. "Wait. That song, that ballad, ‘Lock and Key,' that's about his husband, Locryn. You know him?"

"Sadly, yes."

"Sadly?"

"He's an ass, and he's going to be an even bigger one about this because he loves it when people, especially his friends, owe him."

Ash's laughter pushed heat right through me. I was addicted to seeing the man happy. "I wanna be there when you call him."

"You don't. He's just gonna growl."

"I've seen pictures of them, and Nick Madison, I mean, come on, you already know I have a soft spot for men with brown hair and big brown eyes."

"I do know that."

"But your buddy Locryn, I don't think I've ever seen a picture of him where he doesn't look…"

"Emotionally constipated? Like Nash?" I suggested.

"Yes," he conceded, like I was onto something. "Exactly. And are his eyes actually black, because that's how they look in all the photos."

"Yeah. Black."

"Huh."

"The good news is you'll like Nick. Everybody does. When I met him at their wedding, I kept looking at Loc and thinking, how is this gonna work?"

"But?"

"But you heard that song. Nick Madison is smitten."

"Just like me," he said, hooking his hand around the side of my neck to ease me close. "I'm smitten too."

I felt the same, and he knew that, which was the first time that had ever happened. Being in the same place together, heart and head, was really something to love.

The kid came back, gave us the umbrella, and we left without him recognizing Ash. It was interesting who saw him and who didn't.

"Did you and your buddy Rais talk about anything else?" Ash asked as we walked together, back under the neon-yellow eyesore.

"He complimented me on my pictures on the internet."

"What?"

"The fact of the matter is, you're a liar," I said flatly.

He stopped walking. "I beg your pardon?"

"You said when we first met that you saw a picture of me in my file that my boss sent over, and that you hoped, after seeing it, that I would sleep with you."

His face scrunched up. "How is that a lie? You know I meant it."

"Yes, but Rais's point was, I look like shit in pictures."

He tilted his head. "Are you screwing with me right now?"

"God, you're so cute," I said, reaching for him.

Quickly, he took several steps away from me, which removed the cover of the umbrella.

"The hell're you doing? Come back here."

"No, you go stand under the little roof there of the closed ice-cream store."

I took several steps back and got out of the downpour, safe under the awning of the closed Colonial Ice House.

"Explain," he ordered, looking at me like I was the crazy one.

"I'm not photogenic."

"When?"

"Ever."

"Who told you this?"

"Uh, my mother, my father, my sisters. My grandmother always says, ‘Oh, that Cooper has a face for radio.'"

"She does not," he argued, trying hard not to smile.

I opened my eyes wide and nodded.

"And your friends think this too?"

"Yep."

He squinted at me, looking confused.

"But on this trip, apparently, from what Rais said, I look good in the pictures that have been taken of us together."

"First, that's interesting that you think you're not pretty in pictures, because I can tell you truthfully that all I saw were your big brown eyes, your wide shoulders, and your very kissable lips. I was a goner."

He was the one with the kissable lips I wanted on mine. "Come here."

"And second," he went on, ignoring me, "isn't it interesting that your friend said how good you look in pictures with me ?"

"Your point?" I asked innocently.

"You know what the point is, you ass," he said, grinning at me.

I grunted.

"Now tell me why that is, Cooper."

"Come closer."

"Not until you say it," he insisted, looking so pleased with himself, standing there just out of reach, spinning the umbrella.

"Maybe," I husked, "I look good because you're with me."

"That's it," he murmured. "That's the difference."

"Not your reflected glow?" I teased.

"No. It's because you're so happy to be with me."

"You think?"

He nodded slowly.

"C'mere."

"Cooper," he whispered.

He was so beautiful there in the rain, his strong jaw, chiseled features, his dark brows, and the way his lashes brushed his now flushed cheeks. I had the urge to press my mouth to the dappled pinkening of his skin on his throat and took a step forward, but then stopped, remembering where we were.

I saw him catch his breath, swallow, then lick his lips in rapid succession. He was flustered, and I liked that.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"How am I looking at you?"

"I don't—like you're hungry," he barely got out.

"Let's go back to the inn." I walked over to him, mindless of the rain.

He put his arm around me quickly, tucking me against his side. "I want you to keep that bracelet until I replace it with something else."

"It's not necessary," I assured him yet again as we retraced our steps. We had been out for nearly three hours, but we hadn't gone far. "I told you—I have what I want."

"My heart," he whispered hoarsely.

"That's right," I told him, smiling. "It is mine, isn't it?"

No answer, just his stuttering breath as we walked in the rain.

"Isn't it?" I asked, my tone sharper than I meant it to be.

He was losing the rhythm of his stride, bumping me, shifting me off-balance, as if he were drunk.

"Ash." His name came out sounding ragged and thick, like it was dragged from my throat. It was impossible to make it all the way back to the inn like this.

When we turned the corner, I glanced around quickly and saw the closed antique store. Fisting the collar of his peacoat, I dragged him down the short alley between that store and a closed one that sold jewelry, around the dumpster, under an awning, and then bumped him back into an ancient stone wall.

"It is mine, isn't it?" I asked for the third time, banging my right hand on his chest, over his heart.

"Yes," he said, so softly I almost didn't hear him over the rain pelting the umbrella, the lid of the dumpster, and the gutters of the buildings on either side of us.

"That's good," I rasped, choking on the swell of emotion roiling inside me as I slid my hand around the back of his neck and lifted his chin to me.

Our lips met, and I devoured his mouth, kissing him deeply, voraciously. The hunger was pulsing under my skin, roaring through my blood, but I was not eighteen anymore, and Ash was not just anyone. He was mine to protect, and not simply from physical threats, but also poor lost-in-the-moment choices.

He gasped when I broke the kiss. I stepped back and put my hand on his chest, pinning him against the wall, not letting him move.

"Get under the umbrella before you drown," he croaked out.

I shook my head, keeping him still, my arm stiff between us.

"If you weren't you, I would be on my knees right now, but that is not your image, and I will never do anything to put you, your career, or your reputation in jeopardy."

He looked miserable.

"You've worked too hard," I reminded him as there was a clap of thunder.

Batting my arm away, he lunged at me, wrapping me in his arms and covering me again with the umbrella. "Let's hurry up and get to the fucking hotel," he nearly yelled.

"Inn," I corrected him.

"Inn!" he yelled that time, then kissed me.

It was different from the one I'd given him—not wild, not claiming and ravenous. This one was slow and decadent, savoring my lips, my tongue, the push and pull. When he turned us around, like a dance, and I was pressed up against the wall, his thigh between my legs, his body molded to mine, his hand groping me through my jeans, I couldn't help pushing into his grip.

When he tore his mouth from mine, we were both panting.

"I couldn't answer you before," he confessed between gulps of air. "I've wanted others, but this is… You have to keep the fucking bracelet. There needs to be something of mine on you, next to your skin, all the time."

I nodded.

"All the time!" he roared.

"Yes," I agreed quickly. "Yes."

"And that sweater you're wearing is leaving with me in my suitcase."

"Okay," I husked. "If we get it to dry before then."

"It'll be dry," he told me. "It'll dry before we do."

I smiled at him.

"And of course my heart is yours. I already told you that, but your eyes and your—" He stopped suddenly, voice gone, shaking his head.

"This is a lot," I murmured, staring into a pair of very dark, liquid green eyes. "Us. But the hard part is over. We decided to do whatever's necessary. It's gonna be great."

After a moment, he inhaled through his nose and whispered, "I know. I do. I really do."

I smiled at him.

"Now, can we please get to our goddamn bedroom?"

"Yes," I agreed, levered off the wall, and ran.

"What the fuck?" he shouted in surprise.

"It's important to keep you on your toes so you don't get sick of me," I called over my shoulder.

"That will never happen!"

He was close to me, which was impressive because I ran at home every day and swam every other, but it was also important to note that the man had a personal trainer and a personal chef, so he was probably in much better shape than I was. His six-pack abdomen said as much. But there was also something to be said for gym muscle versus muscles you kept from chasing after people and then having to defend yourself once you caught up to them.

I was proud of being able to put some distance between us, though I would admit to not being hindered by the non-aerodynamic golf umbrella he was still carrying. Hard to get your arms pumping in sync with your legs when carrying something so unwieldy.

Taking the next corner tight, I picked up a bit of speed on the small downward slope I hadn't noticed when we were walking up earlier. The route took us by the restaurant where we'd eaten, then up the street toward the inn. We ran in the road because this was the center of the historical area, after all, so there were no cars. At the moment I was very thankful for small towns with quaint customs, ghosts, and tourists drinking in the middle of the day.

He caught me at the entrance to the inn, wrapped his arms around my neck, hung all over me, and together the two of us staggered over to the concierge desk and dropped off the umbrella. I was guessing most people didn't return them because she seemed surprised, but smiled as we made our way to the elevators, nearly falling down every few feet. People might have commented, or stared, but the lobby was pretty much empty at three in the afternoon, everyone off doing something far more interesting than watching us make complete fools of ourselves, lurching into the elevator because untangling wasn't something either of us wanted to do.

Punching our floor, I then turned to him and stood silently in front of him and undid each button on his peacoat.

"That is ridiculously hot, and I have no idea why."

"Because you know I want all your clothes off so I can put my hands and my mouth all over your skin."

He closed his eyes and counted under his breath.

"I was going to blow you in the alley, but now I want something different."

"What do you want, baby? Tell me."

"You gonna come in your briefs if I do?"

He took a deep breath. "You have no idea how sexy you are. Has no one ever explained it to you?"

I grinned, and when the elevator dinged, I grabbed hold of one side of the now open coat and dragged him after me. At the door, I noted the Do Not Disturb sign had not been moved, and left it there as I used the amplified keycard to get inside. I was so happy that it could never blink red and not grant me entrance.

God bless Owen , I thought as I walked through, tugging Ash behind me. Closing the door, locking us in, I rounded on the man I wanted more than anything and found him stripping as fast as he could.

"You take direction well," I praised him.

His eyes never left mine.

"I'll be in bed."

Sharp huff of air as I walked away.

In the bedroom, since I had on fewer layers than Ash, it made it much easier to get naked. I simply pulled my T-shirt and sweater, together, up over my head and left them in a soggy pile beside the bed. I had to loosen the laces on my boots, but once that was done, I toed them off quickly, whipped off my dry socks —the benefit of having waterproof boots—and then peeled off my wet jeans and briefs, creating a second damp pile.

Naked, I got the lube from the nightstand, threw back the covers of the bed we'd made together that morning, and got in, situating myself so I was sitting with my back against the headboard. I was slicking my cock with lube, stroking myself from balls to head, when Ash walked into the bedroom and stopped by the door.

"C'mere," I ordered, wishing my voice had more power at the moment, but looking at him with all that defined muscle, miles of sleek, tanned skin, and long, thick cock fully erect, leaking precum, was visual overload.

"What is— What are you?—"

"What am I doing?"

He nodded, walking toward the foot of the bed.

"Your words—do you remember what you said?"

He stopped suddenly, and his eyes dipped closed. I watched as the tremble ran through him before he swallowed and his lids lifted slowly, his gaze meeting mine. "Do I remember what I said? No, I don't remember what I said. I can't even think right now, let alone recall anything."

I couldn't control my smile. "You said you wanted to ride me next time and look into my eyes."

He took short breaths as he lowered himself onto the bed and, holding my gaze, crawled the length of the mattress up to me.

"Turn around so I can get you nice and ready," I instructed him. "Lift that beautiful ass of yours up here to my mouth."

Smallest shake of his head before he lifted to his knees, leaned forward, grabbed hold of the headboard, and threw his left leg over me.

"I wanna fuck you, but I don't want to hurt you," I murmured, a moan tumbling from my throat when he reached behind him and took hold of my cock, pressing the leaking head to his entrance.

"Your dick is covered in lube," he said, his breath hitching as he lowered himself over me inch by inch, slowly taking me deeper and deeper inside his body. "And I love the stretch and the burn, and especially the push."

But none of that was pain, and so even though I wanted to move, to thrust, to simply stuff him full, I remained still as his rippling muscles resisted the breach, and rode the sensations with him as he lifted up and levered back down, again and again, the rhythmic rise and fall nearly more than I could bear.

Taking hold of his cock with my still slicked hand, I began to stroke him as I had myself, with long pulls, tugging and milking, and was rewarded with a cry of pleasure as his head fell back, his lips parted, and he was fully impaled on my shaft.

"Look at me."

It took long moments before he could, and when he finally did, his eyes were only open to slits.

"Get both hands on this headboard and ride me," I demanded, pushing down into the bed before I drove up inside him, making his body twitch in response. "Now."

His arms stretched out so my head was between them, and then he moved, rocking forward and back so I was fully seated one moment and his channel was clenching around me the next. I didn't want him to stop.

When he leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine, tongue tangling and rubbing, I couldn't concentrate enough to do anything but take hold of his hips and wrench him forward, ramming deep with each thrust.

Turning his head, I heard his staccato breathing and soft whispered moans.

"You can't look at me the whole time," I said into his sweaty hair when he let his head drop forward. "Not yet."

Gentle sound of agreement.

"I wanna fuck you now," I told him, my voice low and gravelly.

He lifted off me fast, scrambled to the edge of the mattress, turned around, folded his legs under him, knees to his chest, and waited, ready.

I was behind him in seconds, adding no more lube, letting him feel the stretch all over again as I pressed inside him, not stopping, not giving him even a moment.

"You should see my dick sliding into your hole," I rumbled into his nape before taking a gentle bite of his shoulder. "I'm gonna come just looking at it."

"I need you to do…what you said."

Pulling nearly out, making him gasp, I shoved back in, driving to his core.

"Again! Make it hurt."

I would never hurt him. "You're mine," I told him, lying over him, my chest to his back, pushing him down under me on the bed. "I would never hurt what's mine."

His body was shivering beneath me, and when I lifted up, I put a hand on his hip, anchoring him against me, holding him still. With the other, I took hold of his hair, lifting his head, arching his back. In that position, I could rut deep, in and out, sliding easily, telling him how beautiful he was, how good he felt, and how he belonged only to me.

"Only to you," he echoed, his voice cracking on a moan.

Releasing my grip on his hair, I rubbed his scalp for a moment before moving that hand to his chest, straightening him up slowly, until I had one hand around his throat and the other pressing on his abdomen, pushing him back against me. The new angle pulled a sharp gasp from him at the same time his muscles clamped down, clenching so tight, so fast around my length that I couldn't pull out, I could only push and climax hard, spilling into his body.

"Cooper," he whispered, letting his head fall back on my shoulder.

"My cum is dripping down your thighs," I nearly crowed, nuzzling my face into the side of his neck. "You are addicted to me, superstar, and I've got it just as bad. I'm thinking we should stick together from now on. Anyone else, for either of us, would just be too disappointing."

"Yes, agreed," he whispered seriously, hand on the side of my face, keeping me there, close, as we breathed in tandem. "That's a good plan. Very logical."

"I thought so."

After several minutes of silence, he asked if I wanted to take a shower with him.

"I would love that," I murmured.

"Good," he said, smiling sheepishly.

I noted that before we went in, he picked up my sweater, carried it to the kitchen table, and laid it out flat.

"I think it's dead," I teased him.

"It's cotton. It's not dead. Don't be such a pessimist."

The fact that he planned to take it home, when its only claim to fame was that it was mine, was quite telling.

After our shower we both needed a nap, and so snuggled up together on the sectional in the living room, thinking that that way, we would certainly not sleep too long. Neither of us stirred until Ainsley called to see what we were doing for dinner.

None of us—me, Ash, Ainsley, or Jeff—went out drinking. And while they had a good excuse for not going, Ash and I just sounded old.

It was fun that when we came downstairs, I ran toward Gemma and she ran to me and we met in the middle of the lobby. I swept her up and twirled her around, finally giving her a big hug. Ainsley shook her head.

"Why?" I asked, settling Gemma on my hip.

"You're going to give her unreal expectations about men."

I turned to Ash.

"A hundred percent," he agreed, not even a hint of a smile on the man's face. "Before you, no one swept me off my feet either. Ainsley's point is well made. Gemma needs to know she has to make her own sweeping and twirling, not count on someone else. No man is going to be her hero except her dad."

"Exactly right," Jeff chimed in, trying to look as serious as Ainsley or Ash. "However, maybe we can wait to have her manage her expectations until she turns three."

Ainsley promised to consider that.

It was far too cold, rainy, and windy for us to walk to dinner anywhere, so it was the restaurant at the inn for the second night in a row, or we could pay for delivery from somewhere. After much debate, Ash offered to treat for pizza. No one could handle anymore fancy food. Since it was still early, the restaurant even let us eat in a small corner in the back. When the pizza was delivered, the kids gave Ash a round of applause.

"Okay," he said to Ainsley afterward. "I can see where creating your own cheering section would be appealing."

"I appreciate that," she assured him.

Later, a boat came by, close enough that the kids could see it out the window but not as well as they could have if they were on the large patio. Gemma wanted to go outside, and when her mother told her no, she lay down on the floor in the lobby and cried like the world was ending.

Jeff had taken the boys to the bathroom, Ainsley was breastfeeding Taylor, so it fell to me to walk over. I nudged her with my foot.

"Are you dying?" I prodded her.

"Coo-per," she yelled, sounding completely exasperated with me, clearly over being my friend. When I glanced at Ash, he was making a face and Ainsley was scolding him.

" Don't you dare tell her she's cute ," she mouthed so her daughter wouldn't hear, and Ash gestured at Gemma with both hands, his face speaking volumes that she was, in fact, freaking adorable.

" Pick her up ," Ainsley mouthed to me, and I heard the command despite the lack of sound.

I scooped the toddler off the floor before turning to her mother. "She's gonna need another bath, because that"—I gestured to the carpet—"is disgusting."

She nodded and tipped her head toward the ballroom, which was open but empty—it was where the wedding reception would be held the following night.

"Where are you going?" Ash called over to me.

"On walkabout. We'll be right back."

I showed Gemma the ballroom where the wedding would be, and though she liked the curtains by the stage and the black-and-white checkerboard floor, she seemed disappointed in the light fixtures. Or maybe that was me, since she was only two. I'd been expecting the Phantom of the Opera chandelier, so anything less was a letdown.

We toured the smaller lounge next to the ballroom next.

"That's interesting… Both rooms lead out onto the same patio. How would you keep the parties separate if you were having more than one event?"

Gemma just looked at me.

"I guess you could set up a low dog gate to keep people corralled."

Her face lit up. "Disco has a gate."

"You have a dog named Disco?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"We'll have to talk to your mother about that," I informed her.

"Okay," she agreed because she was a very easygoing child, and then she tilted her head as though confused about something.

"What's with you?" I asked.

"Who's that?" she asked me.

I looked around. "Who is who, love?"

"That lady."

Benji had told me once that both children and animals were able to see ghosts. I really didn't want that to be true.

"Where are you looking?"

But the woman she pointed at wasn't a ghost, and I knew that for certain because she had a gun.