19. Ashe

ASHE

What are you doing?” Cassandra asks as I pull off onto the gravel side of the highway. We’re in the country, with fields on either side of the highway and nothing else in view. Cars rock ours as they fly by, and she looks warily towards the road.

I reach across and pop the glove box open. I retrieve the black silk sleep mask I’d hidden there and hand it to her.

She raises a brow. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” I tell her, urging her to put it on. “I’m not driving another foot until you can’t see anything.”

We’ve been in the car for hours and it’s been a true effort to keep her from sensing the maelstrom of emotions warring inside of me. Excitement, trepidation, doubt, jubilation. My emotions are a damn roller coaster that has derailed and refuses to stop. I’ve kept the surprise to myself for so long. Not even one of my nightshade brothers has seen it in decades.

With a good-natured huff, Cassandra tugs on the mask and sticks her tongue out at me when I double-check that she can’t see anything. I kiss her, pulling back before I’m tempted to deepen it and delay our arrival. I want to make sure we have plenty of daylight when we get there, and it’s already mid-afternoon.

Pretty soon I turn us off the highway and onto a two-lane road where farmland gives way to an older town. Homes built earlier that century are set back a dozen feet from the road and then the houses give way to the center of the town itself.

My nerves wind tighter each stop sign or blinking red light. The main street is lined with brick buildings that are stores that haven’t changed much since they were first built. Old iron lamp-posts have been updated to use electric lights rather than gas. Then the street curves around the manicured park in the center of town.

“Are we almost there?” Cassandra asks impatiently.

“Almost,” I tell her, pulling my eyes away from the restored fountain and turning off the main street. “Just another minute or two.”

The narrow street takes us away from the main town, the meadows rising along either side of it. Bare trees tower over the road; when their branches are full with leaves, it feels almost tunnel-like.

I reach up to the visor, pressing the right button on the gate remote I’d clipped there before we headed out. Just ahead, where a chain-link fence loses the constant battle against vines of ivy and honeysuckles, a gate rolls open. I turn the car onto the gravel driveway, my heart in my throat as I use the remote again to close the gate behind us.

Fuck, I’m struggling to breathe. What if Cassandra doesn’t want this? What if, rather than bringing her happiness, it tears open old wounds and traumas? I put the car into park, leaving the engine running while I try not to panic.

“We’re stopped,” Cassandra says after a long moment, breaking the silence and startling me. Her brow furrows behind the blindfold. “Is something wrong?” She reaches blindly for me, and I capture her hand, lacing our fingers together and pressing a kiss to the back of hers.

“I’m just nervous is all,” I confess and am rewarded with a smile.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Right. One moment, then.”

Releasing her, I turn off the car and get out before hurrying over and opening her door. When I take her hand and help her out, she’s got an enormous grin on her face. It’s infectious enough that maybe, just maybe, she’ll like this as much as I’ve hoped.

“Can I look now?” Cassandra pleads, sounding more like an anxious child than a grown witch.

“Almost,” I answer, voice just as light. Eagerness overtakes my nerves and I take her by both hands, walking backwards while I guide her into the perfect position. I move until I’m behind her, the air between us practically vibrating from our combined excitement.

I hook my fingers under the elastic of the mask and begin to count, “One. Two. Three.” I slide the sleep mask up and off of her, hold my breath and wait.

Cassandra’s quiet for half a heartbeat then gasps as she realizes what’s in front of us. She doesn’t turn from the sight as she breathes out a single word, “How?”

I rub the back of my head, anxiety battling against my dwindling excitement. I have to see her face, her expression. I move around to face her; her wide eyes brim with tears but her face is so shell-shocked I can’t tell if they’re good tears or if I made a horrible mistake.

I look over my shoulder at the stone cottage I’ve maintained for the last century and a half. I shove my hands in my front pockets and clear my throat.

“After you saved us with the bargain, most of Willow Creek didn’t want anything to do with us,” I explain. “I think they were afraid of us, not that I can blame them. A couple of them, though, had never bought into what those witch hunters were preaching. Before we left, I met up with Charity’s brother, Ezekiel. He hated what Jonathan had done and wanted us to know he was grateful for what you did for his sister. I paid him a lot of money to keep the property safe and keep up with the grounds.”

When I pause, she steps forward as if in a daze, and I follow behind her as she approaches the whitewashed walls and now shingled roof. The wooden fence we’d had then had been replaced with white pickets. The gardens are bare for the winter, but in spring and summer, flowers line the gravel pathway. The same herbs and vegetables we’d planted still fill the garden rows in the front yard.

“Ambrose helped with the legal paperwork. He created a trust and put the house into it. Then when Charity’s brother was too old, he passed the care to his son, and so on. I’m pretty sure Kaitlyn, the current caretaker, is his great-great granddaughter.”

I stop speaking as Cassandra pushes through the white gate and into the gardens we’d spent so much time in together. My own throat constricts as I follow her, realizing now how I’d never truly expected to stand here again with my wife.

She slowly turns, taking in everything and finally meets my eyes. Her smile almost makes me collapse with relief.

“You’re happy then?” I ask, needing to be sure.

“This—this is incredible, Ashe!” Cassandra says and then throws herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me soundly. “I can’t believe how well you’ve taken care of our cottage!”

I hold her close, needing to feel her soft body against my hard one. “How could I leave it? It was our home after our wedding. I’d lost you already. I wasn’t going to lose this.”

Cassandra kisses me, and her gratitude and love rushes over me through our bond. Her lips are soft and sweet, tasting faintly of the beignets we’d shared on the road. I deepen our kiss, holding her tighter against me as I drown myself in her taste.

She whimpers, her mouth yielding to mine, and my cock thickens as the sound. Her scent turns into something more warm and spicy, like cinnamon and allspice, as her desire grows. By the time we pull apart, I’m as hard as steel against her stomach and we’re both struggling to breathe.

“Are you going to show me the inside, husband?” Cassandra’s voice is husky and my hips thrusts against her in response. “Perhaps the bedroom?”

My lips curve upwards with wickedness and in the next breath, I’ve swept Cassandra up into my arms.

“I think you’ll like the new bed I chose,” I answer as I carry her to the front door. It’s only a moment of careful movement before I’ve got the key in the new lock of a modern door. Then I’m carrying Cassandra across the threshold of our home.

I don’t bother showing her the rest of the house right now as I make for the loft. Now that she’s here in my arms, it really hits me.

We have all the time in the world together now. And I plan to enjoy every moment of it.