But she also looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced and she had a delicate fragileness to her that made him instinctively protective of her. But he couldn’t protect her from himself and it was he who had hurt her.
Drawn to the vulnerable image she presented, he slid his hands up her arms and then lowered his mouth to kiss her on the neck.
She froze immediately then turned swiftly around. “Hi,” she offered hesitantly. “I didn’t expect you back quite so soon.”
“Technically I’m off this week,” he said as he pulled away. “I had lunch with your father. We discussed business and now I’m done.”
She made a face but didn’t comment, which he was grateful for. Anytime her father and business were mentioned, it was going to be difficult, but the more he did it in passing, maybe it would lessen the sting.
“What happened to all your stuff?” he asked casually as he went around to open the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and pushed the door closed.
“Oh, I just organized everything,” she said. “I didn’t really have time before the wedding. Was too busy with other stuff.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured. “And the cleaning? Should you have been doing all this today? You just came off a pretty bad headache. I wouldn’t think all the cleaning stuff would be good for you to be inhaling.”
“It was okay. Headache is gone. Just a little residual achiness.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you go lie on the couch. I’ll figure out dinner and we’ll watch some TV or just relax in the living room if you don’t want the noise.”
She rose from the stool. “No, no, I’ve got dinner planned. Are you hungry already? What time did you want to eat?”
Perplexed by her sudden agitation, he hastily backed off. It appeared she was at least trying for a semblance of normalcy and that relieved him. Maybe after the initial storm passed and she had time to think she’d see that nothing had changed between them.
In light of today’s conversation with William Copeland, Devon was on the verge of accomplishing all his goals. And at a much faster rate than he’d ever planned. Five years down the road was here now. Copeland Hotels would be his. His dream of launching a new luxury chain of exclusive resorts under one of the oldest and most respected names in the business would be realized. He’d have a wife. Children. A family. He’d have it all.
The surge of triumph was so forceful he felt drunk with it.
“I’m in no hurry,” he soothed. “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink. What are you cooking?”
A dull flush worked over her face. “I’m not. At least not tonight I mean. I will another time. I thought I’d call for take-out. It’s almost like a home-cooked meal but they bring it and set it up.”
“Sounds wonderful. Thank you. I think a nice quiet dinner at home would be fantastic after the week we’ve had. We didn’t really get to see each other much in the days leading up to the wedding. We can start making up for that now.”
Pain flashed in her eyes but she remained quiet, almost as if she was dealing with the sudden reminder of their circumstances. He hated it. Wished he could wipe it from her memory. In time, it would fade. If he showed her that they could have a comfortable relationship, some of the rawness of her emotions would settle and they could go back to the easy camaraderie they’d shared before everything went to hell.
She squared her shoulders as if reaching a decision and then tilted her chin upward. “You go on out and have a seat. Would you like wine? Or do you want me to mix up something for you?”
He opened his mouth to tell her that he’d take care of it, but something in her eyes stopped him. There was a quiet desperation, almost as if she was barely clinging to her composure.
“Wine would be great,” he said softly. “You choose something for both of us. I like everything I’ve stocked here so I’m good with whatever you pick out.”
He left the kitchen, his chest tight. The next weeks were going to suck as they found their way in the new reality of their relationship. He had confidence that it would work out, though. He just had to be patient.
A few minutes later, Ashley came into the living room carrying two wineglasses and a bottle of unopened wine. She looked disgruntled as she set the glasses down on the coffee table.
“Can you open the wine?” she asked hesitantly. “I couldn’t get the bottle opener to work properly. I’m sure I’m not doing it right.”
He reached for the bottle and let his fingers glide over hers. “Relax, Ash. Take a seat. I’ll pour.”
Reluctantly she backtracked and sank down onto the couch. In truth she still didn’t look well and it wouldn’t surprise him if her head was still hurting her. Her brow was wrinkled and she looked tired. Maybe a glass of wine would ease some of her tension.
He opened the bottle and then poured a glass for her first. After pouring his own, he set the glass on the table and took a seat in the armchair diagonal to where she sat on the couch.
“Your father wants us to host a cocktail party in a week or two,” he said.
“Us?” she squeaked. “As in you and me? Why wouldn’t he want Mama to host it? She’s awesome at hosting parties. Everyone always talks about how much fun they have when she throws a get-together.”
“He’s going to be announcing some changes at Copeland soon and this is his way of easing into that. Your father is looking at taking a less active role in the managing of things. He’s ready to retire and focus on his family.”
She looked despondent.
“Ash, this isn’t a big deal. Most of the people who’ll attend are people we already know. We’ll pick a nice venue, have it catered, hire a band. It’ll be great.”
She held up her hand. “I’ll handle it. No problem. I don’t want you to worry about it. I just need to know exactly when. I’m sure you and Daddy will be busy with…whatever it is you’re busy with. Mama always handled parties for Daddy. No reason I can’t do it for you.”
The dismay in her voice troubled him. He thought it rather sounded like she would be planning a funeral, but he wasn’t about to shut her down when she was making such an effort. That she was so willing to try when it was obvious he’d crushed her endeared her to him all the more.
“I’m sure whatever you come up with, I and the others will love,” he said.
She took a long drink of her wine, nearly draining the glass.
“Want to watch a movie?” he suggested.
She nodded as she put her wineglass back on the coffee table. “Sure. Whatever you want to put on is fine.”
He picked up the remote but he didn’t return to his own chair. He eased onto the couch next to her and put his arm along the top of the sofa behind her head.
For a long moment she sat there stiffly, almost as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. He cursed the awkwardness between them. Before she wouldn’t have hesitated to burrow underneath him and snuggle in tight. She’d drape herself over him when they watched movies. She would have kissed him, hugged him and generally mauled him with affection through the entire show.
Now she sat beside him like a statue, tension and fatigue radiating from her like a beacon.
“Come here,” he murmured, pulling her underneath his arm. “That’s better,” he said when she finally relaxed against him and laid her cheek on his chest.
They were silent as the movie played and he was fine with that. There wasn’t a lot he could say. There were only so many times he could apologize or tell her he hadn’t meant to hurt her.
It wasn’t the movie that captured his attention, though. He sat there enjoying her scent. Her hair always smelled like honeysuckle. Even in winter in the city. She had an airy, floral scent that clung to her. It suited her.
And he loved the feel of her next to him. He hadn’t realized how much until he’d spent the last several days with a wall between them.
He touched her hair, idly sifting through the str
ands with his fingers, savoring the sensation of silk over his skin. By the time the credits rolled, he couldn’t have even said what the movie was about. He hadn’t cared.
“Ash, are you sure you don’t want me to go out for some dinner?” He waited a moment. “Ash?”
He glanced down to see that she’d fallen sound asleep against his chest. Her lashes rested delicately on her cheeks and her lips were tight, almost as if she were deep in thought even at rest.
Gently he kissed her forehead and rested his chin there for a long moment. Somehow, someway, he would make it up to her. He was reaching the high point in his life and career where everything he’d worked so hard and so long for was his. And damn it, he wanted her to be on top of the world with him.
Fifteen
“This is hopeless,” Ashley said as her shoulders sagged.
Pippa wrapped her arm around Ashley and squeezed tight. “You’re not hopeless. You’ll get it down. You’re being way too hard on yourself.”
“After three weeks, you’d think I’d be able to perform the simplest tasks in the kitchen,” Ashley said forlornly. “Let’s face it. I’m a culinary disaster.”
“Are you all right, hon? You seem really down lately and not just about this cooking stuff. Is everything okay with you?”
Ashley smiled brightly and straightened her stance. “Oh, yeah, fine. Marriage is exhausting work. Who knew? Just trying to get my routine down. I’ve been spending my mornings at the shelter so I can be at home when Devon gets in from work. I keep hoping one of my meals will actually turn out but I keep having to call in backup.”
Pippa laughed. “You’re so silly. I don’t even know why you’re bothering learning to cook. Devon doesn’t care if you can cook. The man’s obviously crazy about you and you couldn’t cook before you got married. I’m sure he’s not expecting some miracle to occur.”
Ashley bit her lip to keep from crying. The truth was, she was exhausted. Planning that damn cocktail party had turned out to be a giant pain in her ass. She was tempted to call her mother and beg for help but pride kept her from making that call.
The old Ashley would have laughed, thrown her hands up and admitted she was hopeless. The new Ashley was going to suck it up, be calm and get the job done.
“Are you coming to my party?” Ashley asked, suddenly worried she’d be surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces.
“Of course I am. I promised you I’d come. I know you’re nervous, but really, this is your thing, Ash. You shine at social events. Everyone loves you and you’re so sweet.”
“Why don’t you meet me at Tabitha’s place the afternoon before. We’ll get our hair done together. I’m aiming for a more sophisticated look for the party. You know, mature and married as opposed to young and flighty.”
Pippa snorted. “Flighty?”
Ashley laughed it off but she knew well that Devon considered her a complete ditz.
“I need Carly’s makeup skills, too.”
“Honey, you aren’t holding tea for the queen. You’re hosting a cocktail party for friends and business associates. We already love you. And those who don’t will. Stop tormenting yourself over this.”
“I just don’t want to look stupid,” Ashley said.
Pippa shook her head. “I swear I don’t know what’s got into you lately. You’re perfect and anyone who doesn’t think so can kiss my ass.”
“I love you,” Ashley said, emotion knotting her throat.
Pippa hugged her fiercely and then pulled away. “Are you pregnant or something? I swear you’re not usually so emotional.”
“Oh, God, I don’t think so. I mean it’s possible but I haven’t even kept up with my periods. I just remember being thrilled it wasn’t going to happen on my honeymoon. You know, the one I ended up cutting short.”
“Well, take one of those home pregnancy tests. You’re a mess, Ash. Hormones have to be the reason why.”
She closed her eyes. No, she couldn’t be pregnant yet. Well, she certainly could, but she suddenly didn’t want to be. But it was a little too late for that line of thinking. When was the last time she and Devon had made love anyway? Definitely before the wedding. But it was still too soon to tell.
“I’ll give it a little more time,” she said firmly. “I’m just a wreck over this stupid party. I feel like it’s my first big test as Mrs. Devon Carter. I don’t want to humiliate myself or him in front of a hundred people.”
“Stop it,” Pippa chided. “You’re going to be awesome. Now, do you want to try this sauce again?”
Ashley sighed. “I’m thinking I should start out with something even easier. Sauces aren’t my thing apparently. I keep ruining them.”
“Okay, then let’s try something different. Name something else you love to eat.”
Ashley thought a minute. “Lasagna. That sounds really good right now.”
“Perfect! And it couldn’t be easier. I’ll give you the easy recipe. You can always graduate to fancier once you’ve mastered the kid-friendly version.”
“That’s me,” Ashley said in resignation. “The kid-friendly version.”
Pippa swatted her with a towel. “Grab the hamburger meat from the fridge. I think we’re down to the last pack so you better nail this one, girlfriend.”
Half an hour later, Ashley put her fist in the air as she and Pippa stood back and closed the oven door on a perfect, if somewhat beleaguered, lasagna.
“I can totally do that on my own,” Ashley said as Pippa wiped her hands. “I’m so excited! Maybe I’m not a complete lost cause.”
Pippa shook her head. “All it takes is a little time and patience. You’re going to be a culinary genius in no time.”
Ashley threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. “Thanks, Pip. I love you, you know. You’re the best.”
Pippa grinned. “I love you, too, you nut. Now go home and make your lasagna before your husband gets there. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it went. And take that damn pregnancy test. I’ll want to know if I’m going to be an aunt!”
Ashley rolled her eyes. She started to walk toward the door when her cell phone beeped, signaling a received text message. She pulled it out and then frowned as she read it.
“What is it, Ash?” Pippa asked.
“There’s a problem at the shelter. Molly is upset but she doesn’t give any info. I’ll hop over on my way home. It’s not too out of the way. See you Friday afternoon at Tabitha’s.”
“Okay, be careful and call me when you get home so I’ll know you made it. You know I hate you going down to the shelter by yourself all the time.”
“Yes, mother,” Ashley replied. “Later, chickie.”
With a wave, she disappeared from Pippa’s apartment and headed down to catch a cab to the shelter.
It was later than he’d have liked when Devon entered the apartment. His day had been long and full of endless meetings and his ears were still throbbing from the number of people who’d talked to him.
The only person he wanted to see was Ashley, and he was looking forward to seeing what disaster she’d come up with for dinner.
He grinned as he loosened his tie and headed for the kitchen. The past weeks had been hilarious. Oddly, he hadn’t minded the sheer number of ruined meals he’d been served. It had become a contest for him to correctly guess what the meal was supposed to have been.
He sniffed as he reached the doorway into the kitchen and the delicious aroma of…something…floated into his nostrils. It didn’t smell burned. Or even slightly scorched. It smelled like gooey, bubbly cheese and a hint of tomato.
His stomach growled and he scanned the kitchen area for Ashley. He frowned when he realized she was nowhere to be seen. Deciding he’d better check on whatever was for dinner, he hurried to the oven and pulled open the door.
Inside was what looked to be a perfectly put together and perfectly cooked lasagna. He snagged a potholder and then reached inside to take out the c
asserole dish.
After setting it on the stove, he turned off the oven and then went in search of Ashley. As he neared the bedroom, he heard the low murmur of her voice.
She was standing by the window overlooking the city and she was on her cell phone. He started to detour into his closet to change when he heard a betraying sniff.
He spun around, frowning as he zeroed in on Ashley. Her back was mostly to him though she was angled just enough that he could see her wipe at one cheek.
What the hell?
It took all his restraint not to walk over, take the phone and demand to know who the hell had upset her.
“I’ll see what I can do, Molly. We can’t let this happen,” she said.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her free hand and then hit the button to end the call. Then she turned and saw Devon. Her eyes widened in alarm and then she closed them in dismay.
“Oh, my God, the lasagna!”
She bolted for the door, gone before he could even tell her he’d already taken care of it. He was more concerned with what had made her cry.
“Ash!” he called as he hurried after her.
He caught up to her in the kitchen to find her palming her forehead as she stared at the lasagna.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just forgot it. If you hadn’t come in, it would have burned.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. He walked over and slipped a hand over her shoulder. “It needs to rest a minute anyway. Let me grab some plates and we’ll set the table. Then you can tell me what’s got you so upset. Who was that on the phone?”
He steered her toward the table, parked her in a chair and then went back to retrieve plates and utensils. After setting the places, he went back for the lasagna and carried the still piping hot dish to the table.
He sat down, picking up a knife to cut into the lasagna while he waited for her to respond. To his horror, her eyes filled with tears and she buried her face in her hands.
He dropped the knife and bit out a curse. Then he scrambled out of his chair and pulled it around so he could scoot up next to Ashley.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Did someone upset you?” Obviously someone or something did but he wanted answers. He wasn’t a patient man. His inclination was to wade in and fix things. He couldn’t do that if he didn’t have the story.
“I’ve had the most awful day,” she croaked out. “And I wanted everything to be perfect. I finally learned how to cook that damn lasagna. But then Molly called. I stopped by the shelter and she had terrible news and I don’t know what to do. We’ve been talking about it all evening.”
He gently pulled her hands away, wincing at the flood of tears soaking her cheeks.
“Who’s Molly?”
She frowned and lifted her gaze to meet his. “Molly from the shelter.”
He looked searchingly at her. Clearly this was a person he was supposed to know, but he was drawing a complete blank.
“She’s my boss at the shelter.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you ran the shelter.”
She shook her head impatiently. “I do, mostly, but she’s in charge. I mean she runs it but I do most of the legwork and fundraising. She says I have more connections and am the natural choice to go out and pound the pavement for donations.”
Devon scowled. It sounded to him as though this Molly person was taking advantage of Ashley. He wasn’t certain of the salary that Ashley drew from her position at the shelter. He assumed that her parents still helped her financially since she didn’t have a typical nine-to-five job and she’d been living in her own apartment for a while now. He hadn’t concerned himself with her finances because he wanted her to be happy and he knew he’d fully support her once they were married. But he sure as hell didn’t want her busting her ass in a job where she was being used.
“So what did Molly have to say?” he gently prompted.
“The grant the shelter had is being pulled and without it, we can’t continue to stay open. It pays the basics like the utilities, food for the animals and the salary for the vet we have on retainer. We don’t raise enough money to stay afloat without the grant.”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “If we don’t stay open, all the animals will have to be transferred to a city-run shelter and if they aren’t adopted out, they’ll be euthanized.”
Devon sighed and carefully pulled Ashley into his arms. “Surely there’s some way to keep the shelter open. Have you talked to your father about sponsoring it?”
She pulled away and shook her head. “You don’t understand. Daddy’s all business when it comes to stuff like that. He doesn’t make emotional decisions. He’s more interested in profit and return or it being a cause he sees the value in. He’s not much of an animal person.”