Until Ashlyn

  “Nut.” His face softens, and I feel mine do the same then shift in my seat and lower my voice.

  “Isla came by the house this afternoon.”

  Sitting forward, his eyes narrow, and he rumbles, “Why didn’t you tell me?” sounding pissed, and I feel my temper spark due to his reaction.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I challenge him back immediately. “She told me she stopped by the office but you wouldn’t see her, so I know you knew she was in town.” I raise a brow, and his eyes narrow further.

  “What did she say to you?”

  “Nothing, she just wants you to call her mom. She said you haven’t been returning any of their calls. Why aren’t you talking to them?” I question, watching him closely, surprised by how angry he looks.

  “You—” I know what he’s going to say before he speaks, and I point my chopsticks at him.

  “If you tell me it’s not something I need to worry about, I will stab you with these,” I cut him off, snapping my chopsticks at him, and he grins then runs his hand through his hair.

  “They were not happy about me marrying you.”

  “So,” I shrug. “My family wasn’t happy either but they are slowly coming to terms with it. You have to admit they have a reason to be upset. You dated their daughter and were supposed to marry her. Instead, you married me in Vegas, and I doubt they even knew my name, any parent would be worried,” I mutter, picking up another piece of sushi.

  “Isla’s gay. I was never going to fucking marry her,” he growls and I blink, staring at him in disbelief with a piece of sushi frozen an inch from my mouth.

  “Pardon?” I finally get out, not sure if I want to laugh or scream at the ridiculousness of the words he just uttered in one sentence.

  “She’s gay,” he repeats, and I point my chopsticks at him, flinging the piece of sushi across the room as I do, not even checking to see if it hit anyone.

  “She is not,” I hiss, jabbing the wooden sticks in his direction then snap, “Dammit, give them back,” when he snatches them from me.

  “She is, but she did not want to hurt her family or risk anyone finding out about her sexuality, so she asked me to help her when people started to get suspicious.”

  “You can not honestly expect me to believe this garbage,” I mutter, looking into his eyes.

  “It’s the truth.

  “She told you she was a lesbian?” I ask, looking around to see if anyone is listening.

  “Yes.” He nods, and I shake my head.

  “Wow.” I rub my forehead, really wishing I could have a drink. “So what was your plan when you put a ring on her finger?” I grit my teeth, feeling anger swell inside my chest at the idea of them together.

  “I didn’t put a ring on her finger.” His frown deepens as his jaw clenches tight.

  “I’m sure. Let me guess, she proposed to herself?” I roll my eyes and his narrow.

  “I didn’t know what she had planned. We were at her parents’ house for dinner and she announced our engagement to them, she already had the ring on her hand.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt her parents, and I knew I could put an end to all of it as soon as I moved here.”

  “You didn’t end things with her when you got here,” I point out, and his jaw clenches tighter.

  “She needed more time.”

  “I bet.” I nod in agreement, having no doubt that she needed more time to try and convince him that she was just confused, and not actually a lesbian. More time to make him see that they were perfect together and should really try to make it work. “I’m in love with you.” He reaches over and attempts to take my hand, but I pull back before he can grasp it.

  His eyes fill with distress, and his nostrils flare as he growls low, “Do not fucking pull away from me.”

  “You…” I close my eyes, trying to get my thoughts in order, but my mind is a complete mess. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

  “Isla and her parents do not factor into our life.”

  “But they do.” For the rest of our lives, he is going to be connected to that conniving bitch through her parents who took him in after he lost his mom and dad. “I want to go home,” I say quietly, pushing my still full plate away from me while standing. Without looking back at the table or him, I head toward the front of the restaurant then push through the door that leads to outside and take in a huge gulp of cool night air, while wrapping my arms around my middle. This is crazy, absolutely crazy. I’ve thought about what he may be wanting to tell me about him and Isla’s relationship, but not once did I ever think he would tell me she is a lesbian.

  Feeling him come up behind me, I tense when his hand rests against the small of my back. I want to go to my house and crawl into my own bed, but I know with him that option isn’t available. “Come on,” he mutters, leading me toward his car where he helps me in before shutting the door. Buckling up, I watch him walk around to the driver’s side then watch him lower his eyes to his feet, shaking his head before opening the door and sliding in behind the wheel. Starting up the car, without a word, he pulls out of the parking lot and heads toward home while I stare absently out the window.

  “What the fuck is going on?” His voice pulls me from my head a few minutes later, and I notice a mass of news trucks and people gathered along the side of the road near the entrance to one of the parks I jog through on occasion.

  Slowing, he merges into a line of cars that are all driving about five miles an hour. “I wonder what happened?” I mutter as a police officer directs the line of cars were in to move into the on coming traffic lane, past the group of news trucks.

  “Maybe an accident,” he murmurs back, and I turn to look over my shoulder to see if I can see anything. There are no cars that have been in a collision, but just inside the park large floodlights are lit up around a blue tarp that is angled toward the road, with a van that is marked CSI parked off to the side with the side door open wide.

  “I don’t think it was an accident.” I turn to face forward as a chill creeps down my spine, then feel his hand cover mine on my lap. “There was a crime scene van and a lot of police,” I say quietly while he laces our fingers together.

  “The story will be on the news.” He gives my hand a squeeze and I nod, resting my hand over our locked fingers, hearing him inhale at my touch. “You know I love you, right?” he asks after a few quiet minutes, and my eyes slide closed.

  “I know.”

  “Don’t ever doubt that you are the most important thing to me.” I hear the sincerity in his tone and know deep in my gut that he’s speaking truthfully, but that still doesn’t put my mind at ease.

  “She played you,” I state, gaining no response. He doesn’t see it or doesn’t want to, and there is obviously nothing I can say to make him. “I know you don’t think so, but it’s true,” I mutter as he turns onto our street, then turns again down the drive. As we get closer to the house I notice a black car parked in front near the fountain and I sit up, leaning closer to the windshield. “Whose car is that?”

  “Don’t know.” He presses the button for the garage as we drive by the car, and I see that it’s empty.

  “There was no one inside of it,” I point out, feeling unease run through me as he puts the car in park and shuts it off inside the garage.

  “Stay here.”

  “Stay here? I’m not going to stay here!” I yell at him as opens his door. “There could be a killer in the house, call the police.” I try to grab him, but he is already out of the car. “Dillon!” I shout, and he bends at the waist to look at me.

  “Do you really think a killer would park out front of the house in plain sight?” Okay, that just sounded stupid, but I still don’t want him to go into the house alone. For all I know, Isla could be inside.

  “I’m coming with you.” I unhook my belt and his eyes narrow on mine.

  “No, you are going to stay put until I come back to get you.”


  “Have you lost your mind? I’m not going to let you face a possible killer by yourself,” I growl, and he opens his mouth to say something, but a deep voice asks,

  “Who’s a killer?” Screaming at the top of my lungs, a large guy with shaggy hair and a beard walks up behind Dillon, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.

  “Jesus, Parker,” Dillon growls, and I look at the guy standing next to Dillon and feel my stomach twist when I realize the guy is not an ax murder, but Dillon’s brother, Parker. “What the fuck are you doing here, man?” Dillon asks, and his body turns toward his brother. Opening the door, I get out of the car and watch them over the roof, a little taken back by how much they look alike.

  “Did you really think you could tell me you got married and I wouldn’t make time to come out and meet your wife?” Parker asks, tugging Dillon into a hug that rocks him back and forth roughly.

  “Where are Cara and the kids?” Dillon asks him once he pulls away.

  “Inside, wandering around the monstrosity you call a house,” he mutters dryly, and I giggle then freeze as two sets of blue eyes turn toward me.

  “Baby, meet Parker. Parker, my wife, Ashlyn,” Dillon says, and his face softens as he speaks, making butterflies take flight in my stomach.

  “She is pretty.” Parker smiles at me over the roof and I smile back.

  “I know she’s pretty,” Dillon grumbles then palms the side of his head. “Stop staring at her.”

  “I cant.” He grins, then heads around the back of the car toward me. As soon as he’s standing in front of me, his arms wrap around me and he forces me into his chest so tight that I cant breathe. “Nice to meet you Ashlyn.”

  “You too.” My words come out muffled against his shirt and I pat his back, trying to make him understand that he’s cut off my supply of oxygen.

  “She can’t breathe, idiot,” Dillon grumbles, tugging me from his brother and tucking me under his arm. I take a gulp of air as Parker’s eyes jump between the two of us with a thoughtful look on his face.

  “There you are,” a woman says, and I look behind me at the door that leads into the house and watch an African American woman with rich dark skin, and short cropped hair that accentuates her almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips step down the two steps into the garage. Even though she’s dressed casual, in a pair of white Converse, dark jeans, and a plain gray V-neck, she screams elegance.

  “Cara.” Dillon lets me go, and her face lights up as he moves toward her and pulls her into a hug.

  “I told your brother that we should call to make sure you would be home, but he insisted we surprise you,” she murmurs, hugging him back.

  “You never have to call,” Dillon says softly, letting her go as she smiles studying him, then leans up touching his cheek.

  “You cut your hair.”

  “I did.” He grins, wrapping his hand around mine and pulling me back to his side.

  “Maybe you could have a talk with that one,” she nods toward Parker, “about chopping his off.”

  “Never gonna happen, baby,” Parker says, dropping his arm around her shoulder, and she rolls her eyes skyward then moves them to me for a brief second before going back to Dillon.

  “Is this your wife?” she asks him quietly, and I don’t see his reaction, I just watch her face soften before she looks at me once more.

  “Cara this is Ashlyn, Ashlyn this is Cara, Parkers wife,” Dillon introduces us as she steps away from Parker.

  “Nice to finally meet you.” I stick out my hand and she shakes her head, wrapping her slim arms around me.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, I’m so happy to finally meet you.” She leans back enough to see my face and shakes her head again before hugging me once more, this time tighter.

  “Dad, Uncle Dillon has like five bathrooms!” is shouted a second later, and she pulls away just in time for me to watch two adorable little boys in matching outfits bound down the steps into the garage.

  “Did you use all of them?” Dillon asks, and the boys each look at him, grinning widely. “Uncle Dillon!” they shout, launching themselves at him. Stepping back, I smile as he scoops up both boys into his arms and swings them around. I’ve seen Dillon numerous times with my niece, Hope, but now it’s different. I can actually picture him holding a little boy who looks like him and me in my head. My heart does a little flip inside my chest at the idea and my breath catches when his eyes meet mine and soften, like he knows what I’m thinking.

  “Jordan,” he lifts his right arm holding one little boy, “Kenyon,” he lifts his left holding the other, “I want you to meet your aunt Ashlyn.”

  “Hi,” they chime in unison, studying me with curious looks on their faces.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you both, your uncle talks about you guys all the time,” I say, wondering how long it will take before I can tell them apart, since they look identical and are dressed exactly the same.

  “You do?” Jordan asks, and Dillon turns his eyes to him and smiles.

  “Of course I talk about two of my favorite guys.”

  “But you haven’t come to visit us in forever.” He pouts and Dillon’s smile fades away.

  “I came to visit you guys three months ago.”

  “Yeah, and that was forever ago,” Kenyon says, making me smile. I’m sure that at five, three months does seem like forever.

  “Well, you’re here now.”

  “Yeah, and we brought cupcakes from Mimi’s,” Kenyon says as Parker takes him from Dillon, tickling him.

  “Did you really?” Dillon asks and Jordan nods.

  “Yeah, we got your favorite strawberry ones,” he says proudly and Dillon smiles, lifting him high above his head.

  “Too bad it’s your bedtime, now I get to eat all of them.”

  “It’s not my bed time,” Jordan shouts, laughing as Dillon drops him to his feet and turns to look at Cara.

  “How many cupcakes did you bring?”

  “A dozen.” She smiles.

  “So just enough for me.” He grins, looking between the boys.

  “Not if we eat them all first,” Kenyon yells, wiggling himself free from his father then tugging his brother along with him, and they run back into the house.

  “I should leave them with you tonight after they’ve eaten those cupcakes,” Cara mutters, and Dillon smiles.

  “How long are you guys staying for?” he asks, and Parker answers.

  “We’re here until next week. The boys are on fall break, so we figured it was the perfect time for a visit.”

  “So you guys will be here Saturday?” I question and Cara nods.

  “Yes, but if you have plans or need us to find a hotel, that’s totally okay with us. I know us showing up is unexpected.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. You guys are welcome here anytime.” I wave her off. “Really, your timing is perfect. My family is throwing us a kind of after-the-fact reception type dinner Saturday, then my cousins are taking me out for a bachelorette party afterwards, in Nashville.”

  “I’m in.” Cara grins, and Parker frowns at her.

  “You are not in.”

  “Oh yes, I’m totally in.” She smiles. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been out, and I’ve always wanted to experience Nashville’s nightlife.”

  “Perfect.” I smile at her and she wiggles her brows, leaning closer.

  “Are there going to be male dancers at your party?”

  “No!” Dillon barks, and Parker’s frown turns into narrowed eyes on his wife.

  “No, no strippers.” I smile. “I’m actually not sure what my cousins have planed but it will be fun, and there will be a party bus so we can drink.”

  “Drinking and a girls night out works for me.” She grins as Parker grumbles,

  “I don’t like your wife anymore,” to Dillon, making me laugh.

  Wrapping her arm around mine Cara starts to lead me inside, mumbling, “Ignore him, he’s crazy.”

  “Dillon is the
same way,” I mumble back, listening to her laugh as we head toward the sound of the boys and find them in the kitchen sitting on top of the island, each with a cupcake and icing covered faces.

  “After you eat those it’s time to shower then bed,” Cara says in a motherly tone, and both boys pout and look at their dad and uncle.

  “Do we really have to go to bed, we just got here.”

  “Sorry boys.” Parker shrugs as Dillon walks to where they are sitting and picks up a cupcake out the box on the counter and takes a huge bite. Going to the fridge, I grab the gallon of milk and take it over to them then head across the kitchen for glasses.

  “Uncle Dillon, isn’t it your house and your rules?” I think Jordan asks, but I could be wrong, it could be Kenyon.

  “Yep, my house, my rules. And the number one rule is listening to your mom and dad.”

  “That will be a change,” Cara mutters as Parker pulls her into his side, kissing her temple.

  “Bite.” Dillon instructs, holding his half eaten cupcake out toward me as I set the glasses down on the island. Leaning forward, I place my hand on the back of his and take as much cupcake as I can into my mouth, listening to him laugh as I close my eyes, chew, and swallow the delicious cake.

  “It seems I’ve been missing out my whole life,” I say, opening my eyes. He grins down at me then leans forward, kissing me softly.

  “Gross!” the boys shout, making me giggle.

  Stepping away from him, I pour milk for the boys then lean against the counter and watch them talk animatedly with Dillon about what they have been up to for the last couple of months, and what they want to do during their visit. They are so adorable and so full of energy; I forgot how different little boys and little girls are.

  “Okay, boys, time to shower then bed,” Cara instructs a few minutes later while grabbing a paper towel, and they each turn to pout at her.

  “Do we really have to, Mom?” Jordan asks, pulling his jaw from her grasp as she attempts to clean off the cake and icing that has been smeared across his face.

  “You really have to, honey,” she murmurs, wiping Kenyon’s face before helping him down off the counter. “If you guys want to go to the zoo tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”