Secrets of You (18 page)

“Stop the damn bullying.” Ash shook
Burnes’s hand. “Or next time I’ll spare my breath and just flatten you.”

Burnes
laughed. “I think you might try it.”

Ash grinned. “Not try, I’d do it.”

“You know, if I were one hundred percent honest with anyone but my wife, I might actually admit that your ravioli were better than mine.”

Ash picked up the block of chocolate and tossed it to him. “Thanks for the compliment.” He handed him the vegetable peeler. “Now make yourself useful and finish the shavings.”

“Sure.” Burnes went to work creating a mound of chocolate shavings. When he was almost finished, he paused. “You know, Arianna’s favorite is key lime cheesecake.”

“I didn’t know that.” Dammit, he was going to write up a questionnaire and in two months, he’d know a hell of a lot more about Arianna than
Burnes did. Count on it.

“If you want, I’ll send you the recipe. It’s the lemon zest that does the trick.”

Now they were going to share kitchen secrets? Quinn Burnes was one odd bastard.
What the hell?
“Sure,” Ash said, “I’d like that.”

Ash pulled out a box wrapped in shiny black paper with a silver bow in the center. “One more gift and then I promise, that’s it.” He paused. “For now.”

Arianna scrambled off the bed and threw her arms around his waist. She liked sleeping with him, liked touching his body,
liked waking up to his even breathing. She sighed and rested her head on his bare chest. Right now, she liked pretty much everything about her fiancé—but he had to stop with the gifts. They weren’t necessary. He’d given her the greatest gift of all: his love. “I don’t want any more gifts.” She eased away and waved her left hand at him. “And if this hadn’t been your mother’s, I wouldn’t have accepted it.” It had to be outrageously expensive, anything involving several carats usually was.

“This isn’t jewelry. It’s something small.” He handed her the box. “Come on. Last one.”

She pointed to the pile of clothing on a chair in the corner. “Look at all of that? I didn’t need new jeans and T-shirts to visit my mother.” Her gaze slid to the biker boots next to the chair. “And I had boots. Several pair of them.”

Ash sighed. “If you’re riding with me, you’re not wearing three-inch designer heels. You needed a leather jacket, not from your high-end department store either, some jeans and T-shirts. If we were going to a dinner, I’d let you dress me. If you’re riding on the back of my Harley, I’m dressing you.” He smiled. “You liked the bandanas, didn’t you?”

“I did. And the sunglasses. And the pink helmet.”

“Okay, then.” He thrust the box at her. “This is actually more for me than it is for you.”

She eyed him. “I’m not sure I trust the sound of that.”

“Smart girl.”

She set the box on the bed and tore into the wrapping. Other than Quinn, no one had given her a gift in years. Oh, there had been the obligatory offering from various vendors and the occasional man trying—and failing—to gain her attention, but other than that? Not since she left home. She lifted the top of the box and pushed aside the tissue paper. There were two tank tops nestled in the tissue, black and silver and pink and black with Harley script stamped across the chest.

Ash traced the neckline of the black and silver tank top. “Like I said, it’s more for me than you.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned. “You know, it’s been said that it’s better to show a thank-you than to say it.”

“Oh, really?” She yanked off her shirt, snatched the tank top from his grasp, and put it on. It was a perfect fit from bust to waist—Ash must have thought so, too, because he seemed to have lost his voice. Arianna crossed her arms over her chest, which pushed her bosom out of the tight fabric and smiled. “Now what was it you said about showing a thank-you?”

Ash’s gaze devoured her, but he didn’t move. “Come here.”

She inched closer, stopped when she was a kiss away. “Well? Do you like it?”

He traced the fabric covering her right breast, followed the pattern of the silver script across her chest.
“Yeah. Definitely.” He trailed a finger along her belly, dipped it inside the lace band of her panties. “Absolutely.” Ash carried her to bed and spent the next two hours showing—with his fingers, his tongue, his words—just how much he liked what she wore and how he liked what she
didn’t
wear even better.

Six o’clock in the morning came three hours too early. When Arianna woke, Ash had showered, made the coffee, and was fixing two breakfast bagels with spinach, ham, and cheese.

“Eat now,” he said, “because when we travel the country roads, you don’t know when you’ll find a rest stop or even a gas station. I packed some water and granola bars for us.”

“I don’t eat breakfast every day.” As a matter of fact, she never ate breakfast, had only started because Ash fixed it for her and expected her to eat it.

“Well, now you do.” He handed her a plate, kissed her on the mouth, and poured a cup of coffee. “How are you going to carry my babies if you’re too frail?”

“I’m not frail—babies?”

“You do want them. Don’t you?” He looked so serious and vulnerable.

“I guess so.” When he’d disappeared, she closed off a part of her heart reserved for children and unconditional love. But he was back, and he wasn’t leaving this time. She nodded. “Yes. I want to have a baby with you.”

He placed his large hand beneath her belly, in the spot where their baby would grow. “Good.” He smiled, his eyes dark as chocolate. “That’s very good. Now eat so we can hit the road. You told your mom we’d be there by supper.”

***

Ash had told her that riding cleared his head, calmed him, brought him peace. She’d never quite understood how a loud, two-wheeled contraption that required constant attention could give anybody peace, especially the rider. But once she grew accustomed to “moving with the bike,” she relaxed, closed her eyes, and let the fresh air and the rock ’n’ roll music soothe her. It was indeed calming, a transformation of mind and spirit, a release from the daily encumbrances that weighed a person down—cell phones, computers, chatter. Ash pointed to things he wanted her to see: cattle grazing, a field of sunflowers, a vintage car, a boy playing with his dog. He shouted back to her once or twice, but mostly, they just rode.

They stopped at a small diner outside of Sunbury where they ate beef barley soup and pastrami sandwiches. The waitress was young, pregnant, and once she learned they were from Philadelphia, curious to hear about city life. Ash regaled her with stories beginning and ending with “people are people no matter where you go.” Arianna nodded, offered tidbits here and there, and on a whim, removed one of the bracelets she’d made and left it in the bill folder with the cash.

Spontaneous giving for no reason, expecting nothing in return. It felt good. Arianna followed Ash outside, breathed in the afternoon air, and grabbed her helmet.

They stopped twice more, once for an ice cream cone at a roadside
Tastee Freeze, and later, for a cup of coffee and a bathroom break. There were so few words and yet, she’d never felt closer to him. In less than an hour, they’d ride into Endicotte and her mother would meet Ash as Arianna’s fiancé, not the bike rider who drifted in and out of town and had made friends with the irascible Edgar Sorensen. That would be a shocker, and yet, somehow, Arianna was certain Lorna would understand. And Vanessa? Bits and pieces of anxiety swirled in her gut, shot to her throat. Vanessa would never accept anything Arianna did and once she learned Ash was tied to her sister, she would be worse than miserable.

Would she make a scene at the wedding? Would she ruin the most important day of Arianna’s life because she refused to forgive? As they moved down the familiar road toward what had once been home, Arianna closed her eyes and let the wind and ride take her away.

***

Arianna stood by the bike, tall, lean, windblown, and beautiful as she pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail. Ash flashed
her a quick smile and bounded up the front steps of the Sorensens’. Soon Lorna would know who he really was and while he didn’t mind that, he wanted her to know that his time with Edgar and with her was real. Before he had a chance to knock, the front door burst open and Vanessa threw herself at him in a giant bear hug. “Ash! Oh, Ash, it’s so good to see you!” She clung to him so hard she sucked the air from his lungs. “Mom and I wondered when you’d be back.” She pulled away, her cheeks pink, eyes bright. “You wouldn’t have heard about Dad.” Her voice dipped, wobbled. “He…he died.” She swiped a hand across her face, glanced over his shoulder, her blue eyes shooting ice. “What is
she
doing here?”

Ash turned and pointed at Arianna. “She’s my fiancée.”

Vanessa’s cheeks shot from pink to paste in a heartbeat. “Your what?”

“My fiancée.”
He held out a hand to Arianna, urging her forward. She moved toward him but didn’t take her eyes off of her sister. This was going to be a rocky reunion, filled with a mini avalanche or two. He sucked in a breath and spit it out. “When I first came here, she wasn’t my fiancée…actually, she had been but we broke up. That’s why I came to Endicotte so I could still feel a part of her. But we recently reconnected and that’s why we’re here.” He worked up his best smile and plastered it on Vanessa. “To tell you we’re getting married. Here. In Endicotte.”

“Who’s getting married in
Endicotte?” The door opened wide and Lorna Sorensen peeked from behind her daughter. “Ash? Arianna?” Her gaze darted between them, confused yet curious. “You two know each other?”

Vanessa spouted off before he could answer. “You could say that.”

No wonder she was alone and miserable. Had he ever heard her say one nice thing to or about anyone, other than when she thought they might hook up? No, he hadn’t and now that it was directed at Arianna, he found the self-pity damn annoying.

Lorna eased past Vanessa and opened her arms to Ash and Arianna. “Somebody’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

“He betrayed us.” This from Vanessa who’d coated her words with venom and distaste. “Dad most of all.”

“Oh, hush, child. I’d like to hear their version if you don’t mind.”

Ash looked down at Lorna and smiled. “I’ll be more than happy to explain, but unless you want to read about it in tomorrow’s newspaper, I’d prefer to say what needs saying inside.”

Lorna nodded. “True. Edgar always said news flew through the town faster than a hawk after a mouse.”

That sounded like something he would say. He’d had lots of sayings that made Ash wonder if he made them up or if they’d been hand-me-downs from his father. He squeezed Arianna’s shoulder as she passed him. Her sister was not going to bully her or lay guilt on her for one second longer. Not if Ash had a thing or two to say, and he did.

“I made a meatloaf.” Lorna stirred something on the stove and lowered the heat.
“Mashed potatoes, gravy. Corn. Applesauce.” She smiled at Arianna. “Just the way you used to like.”

“Thank you.”

He hadn’t known her to eat that many carbs in six days, let alone one sitting, but who was he to argue with a mother welcoming home her lost child? Vanessa stood in the corner shooting poison-dart looks at her sister. Before they left, Ash planned to set her straight on a lot of things. And if she didn’t want to attend the wedding, then the hell with her, she could stay here and feel sorry for how things hadn’t turned out like a fairy tale.

Lorna poured two glasses of iced tea, plunked wedges of lemon in the glasses, and placed them on the table.
“Just made this.” She sat down and folded her hands in front of her. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

Ash did most of the talking, occasionally gesturing to Arianna who filled in snippets of story, how they met, how they split apart and met again. Lorna
teared up, swiped at her eyes, and sniffed at certain parts. “I wish your father could be here.”

Vanessa snorted. “He’d never put up with this. And don’t think he’d give you away either, because he wouldn’t.”

“That’s enough.” Lorna stood and faced her younger daughter. “You are welcome into this home anytime, but you’ll be respectful of my guests and if you find that so hard to do, you’ll have to leave.” That didn’t sit well. Vanessa’s mouth thinned to a straight line but she clamped it shut and stormed out the front, banging the screen door behind her. “I don’t know where her heart turned so black and unforgiving, but it’s a sad sight to see.”

No wonder Arianna had avoided this town for so long. Nothing like having a member of your family
want to nail you to a stake. Had Edgar really been so unforgiving or had he not known how to make amends? Or maybe Vanessa hadn’t wanted him to make amends; maybe she’d even encouraged the wedge between him and Arianna, tossing fuel, on situations—real or imagined—that would not let him get past what his oldest daughter had done.

Arianna cleared her throat and clutched Ash’s hand. “We want to get married in
Endicotte. In the park.”

“Really?”
Lorna’s eyes grew bright, her voice faltered. “You don’t want to get married in the city?”

“No. We’d like to get married here, with a band and roses and a big picnic catered with Philly specialties.”