Secrets of You (17 page)

“We have too many clothes on.” He reached between them and began unbuttoning her shirt. “Too many buttons,” he murmured, planting a trail of kisses along her collarbone.

She laughed and jerked his shirt from his jeans so she could feel skin. “Maybe you should pick out my wardrobe.”

“Maybe I should.” He eased her skirt off of her hips, unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor. “Starting and finishing with these—” he brushed his fingers over her silk panties “—and heels.” He kissed her long and slow, his hands cupping her breasts, trailing along her belly, slipping into her panties.

“Oh, Ash.” She murmured against his lips, arching toward him. Only Ash could create the burn inside her. She needed him. Now. She worked his belt open, then his zipper and yanked down his jeans and underwear.

He slid the panties down her legs. “Baby, I can’t wait.”

She cupped his sex. “Then don’t.”

Ash lifted her in his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and held her gaze as he entered her with one swift thrust. Arianna moaned and eased her tongue between his lips, sucking, stroking, devouring. Their moans mixed and blended together as she rode him, hard, harder, desperate for the pure pleasure only he could give. Ash met her passion, thrusting into her, bold and wild, until she couldn’t take another second of his torment.

“Ash!” She jerked against him and burst into a million pieces of spent pleasure. She clung to him as he buried himself deep, stroked, plunged, and filled her—wet, hot, complete. He cradled her against his chest as his body shivered with the aftershocks of his climax. Making love with him had always been intense, but now, with the past open between them, it was explosive.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. “I do some of my best work there.”

She nipped his ear. “I’m counting on it.”

Ash did not disappoint. Their second joining was as fierce and frantic as the first, but in bed with the benefit of a mattress. The third time making love was smooth and easy like good bourbon or the perfect piano chord. Arianna lay with her head on his chest, the beat of his heart calling to her, calming her. Thirty years with him would not be enough. She wanted to wake each morning to that smile, move through the day with the thought of him buried in her heart, and fall asleep at night next to him—safe, cherished.
Loved. This was what Quinn had meant when he’d told her complete honesty was necessary when you loved someone. He’d been right.

“Sleeping?”

She brushed her lips over his chest. “Not yet.”

“Hungry? I can whip up an omelet and serve you in bed.”

“You’re going to spoil me.” She ran her fingers down his thigh. “I’m not ever going to want to get out of this bed.”

He laughed. “I would not consider that a problem.” His voice dipped, softened, made her stomach flip-flop. “You deserve to be spoiled. You don’t have to be in charge all the time, with all of the answers. We’re a team.”

“A team.” She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I like that.”

“Good.” He stroked her hair, sifted it through his fingers and said again, “Good.”

Ash really did love her. They really were a team. And teams worked together, not solo as she’d done for so many years. He’d given her the gift of love, forgiveness, and second chances. And he’d given her one last glimpse of her father—that, she would cherish forever. “Thank you for the pictures of my dad.”

“You’re welcome. When you’re ready, I’ll tell you about my time with him. He was a good guy, just lost and hurting, like me. That’s probably why we got along so well.”

He was probably right. “Ash?” She lifted her head, met his gaze. “Would you go back to Endicotte with me? I’d like to introduce you to my mother, tell her who you really are and what you are to me.”

He traced her lips with his finger. “And what am I to you?” he asked, his voice deep, filled with emotion.

“That’s easy.” She planted a soft kiss on his mouth, met his gaze and let him see the truth. “You’re the love of my life.”

***

If Ash and Arianna were going to start hosting get-togethers for Quinn Burnes and his family, they’d have to buy more furniture. Or move into Arianna’s place. Or maybe they could take a look at one of those rambling older homes like Quinn and Eve’s. Maybe on the same street. Right. He might have to get used to the idea of the man and his opinions, but distance was key. Like a city away. He and Arianna would have to talk about that, set some ground rules, starting and ending with “Quinn Burnes isn’t your number one confidant—your future husband is.”

Future husband.
It couldn’t happen soon enough. He patted the box in his jeans pocket. After dinner, before he served the cheesecake, would be the perfect time to spill his heart and his intentions to the group. He was doing this for Arianna—and because he wanted these people to trust him and understand he wasn’t walking away this time. Or ever again.

Ash stirred the sauce, a marinara that complemented the spinach and mushroom ravioli he’d made the other day. Arianna had fixed the salad earlier and slathered garlic and butter on the bread—as per his instructions and with a few comments of her own—such as how she didn’t realize balsamic vinaigrette dressing did not always come from a bottle. He smiled. She was brilliant and talented and beautiful, but she was not a cook.

“Can I help with anything?”

Arianna stood in the doorway, eyes bright, curious. The whole cooking from scratch was foreign to her. When she was measuring ricotta the other day, she’d mentioned too many times what a great cook
Burnes was.
He makes a fantastic chicken marsala. And his gnocchi is mouth-wateringly delicious.
Yeah, well, she hadn’t tasted his ravioli or his chocolate-mint cheesecake yet. When the Burnes clan left tonight, stuffed and carrying doggy bags, they’d be talking about Ash’s culinary expertise, not Quinn Burnes’s.

“Sure. You can plate the salads and I think we’re set.”

“It smells wonderful.” She crossed the room, leaned on tiptoe and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“For cooking?”
He gave her a peck on the nose.

“For everything.”

Now talk like that he could get used to, especially if it were accompanied by a bright smile and a kiss that made him think about dessert, and not the edible kind. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get the salads going before our guests come looking for us.”

Two bowls of ravioli and three garlic breads later, Ash patted his jeans pocket and scanned the table. He cleared his throat and was about to stand when Annie raised her wine glass and announced, “To a wonderful dinner. I’ve never tasted ravioli like that.” She
slid her brother a smile. “Quinn, I think it might have rivaled yours.”

Ash settled back in his chair. What were a few more minutes of waiting, especially if it meant enjoying the sour expression on Quinn
Burnes’s face?

“I agree. It was just the right blend of mushroom and ravioli.”
This from Burnes’s wife, Eve.

That sour expression deepened, the lips pulled down into a distinctive frown. “You used
portobello mushrooms, didn’t you?”

Ash rubbed his jaw and smiled at Quinn. “I did. I prefer their meatiness.”

Burnes nodded. “A good choice.” Had the man actually complimented Ash? “I would have added goat cheese to the ricotta for a more intense flavor, but you can try that next time.”

And good-bye to the compliment.
“Right.” Like hell if he’d take that advice.

Caroline, ever in possession of grace and manners, chipped in with an attempt to assuage the obvious backward compliment. “Maybe the men in this room should give us women lessons in the kitchen. I know I’d certainly love to learn how to make ravioli, no matter what kind of mushrooms and cheese you use.”

Pete laughed and clutched his wife’s hand. “Remember the time I tried to make pizza and set off the smoke alarm?”

“The pizza from a box?
The one that only required a pre-heated oven and a timer?” Her voice dipped, “Yes, dear, I remember.”

“I’m no better.”
This from Michael, Annie’s doctor-husband. “I can grill a cheese sandwich but don’t expect the tomato soup to go with it, even if it’s from a can.” He shrugged. “Now if you want to know how to tell if a person’s in shock or what vital signs really mean, I’m your man for that.”

“Hear, hear.” Pete raised his glass. “And I can’t bake a pizza, but give me a balance sheet and I’ll tell you if a company’s in trouble.”

“I make killer double fudge brownies,” Annie said. “Quinn made up the recipe.”

Damn, enough about Quinn
Burnes
. Ash pushed back his chair and stood before the Burnes flattery continued. “Annie, I’ve a got a little something for your sweet tooth, but first—” he paused, glanced at Arianna who looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity—“I’ve got an announcement. You’ve all been observers in the roller-coaster ride Arianna and I have been on these past few years.” He darted a look at his brother, then skipped to Quinn Burnes who studied him as though dissecting each syllable for truth and accuracy.

“We’ve both made mistakes—” he pulled the black velvet box from his pocket, held Arianna’s gaze “—but the important thing is we’re together now.” He knelt and held Arianna’s hand. “I don’t remember much about my mother, but I do remember how good she smelled, how her laughter always made me feel better.” He opened the box to reveal the ruby and diamond ring.
“And how this ring sparkled when she moved her hand. Pete gave it to me years ago, but when we got engaged the last time it would have been hard to explain how a broke photojournalist came upon this ring.” Ash removed the ring and held it out. “Arianna Sorensen, will you be my wife? As soon as possible, for as long as possible?”

Those blue eyes rimmed with tears, those perfect lips quivered. “Yes,” she whispered, followed by a resounding, “Yes!” as she threw her arms around his neck and cried.

“How about we try it on?” he murmured in her ear. “So you can show it off?” Truth was, he wanted to make certain the ring fit—he’d “borrowed” one from her jewelry box but didn’t know which finger she wore it on and not wanting to mess up, he’d resorted to calling Quinn Burnes, who, of course, knew she was a size six. Was there anything about Arianna the man didn’t know—with the exception of sex…unless they’d discussed that as well. Had they? Damn, he hoped not.

Arianna eased away from him and held out her hand. Ash slipped the ring on her finger. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

“It is, isn’t it?” He slid a glance at Quinn Burnes, who watched him a little too closely.

She sniffed and framed Ash’s face with her hands. “I love you.” And then she turned to the rest of the table and made an announcement that told Ash she truly had forgiven him and more importantly, herself.

“I want to get married in Endicotte. It’s where I grew up and such a small town—” she laughed and swiped at her cheeks “—I want all of you to attend, to meet my mother, my sister if she’s talking to me, and hopefully, even the nieces I’ve never met. You see, I ran away a long time ago and thought I could just pretend I was someone else. But what I found out is that the past is in you, it’s what shapes you, what makes you unique. And the real test is what you do with that past—you either learn and move on, or you feel sorry for yourself, or maybe you pretend it never happened. I did the last one for a long time, too long, until Ash helped me see that I was hiding—from life and from myself.” She clutched Ash’s hand, a smile spreading over her face. “Please come and help us celebrate the happiest day of our lives.”

After a few too many teary congratulations from the women in the group, Ash excused himself to prepare the dessert. Chocolate-mint cheesecake was one of his specialties and he couldn’t wait for Arianna to try it. She loved chocolate—on ice cream, pretzels, peanuts, his belly… Maybe he’d save a few extra chocolate slivers to sprinkle on various body parts later tonight. He removed the cheesecake from the fridge, turned on the coffee maker, and unwrapped a block of dark chocolate.

“She seems happy.”

Quinn
Burnes. Man of the hour. But not this hour—this was Ash’s time, and Arianna was
his
fiancée, which bumped him up the ladder ahead of Burnes. “She is,” he said, shaving slivers of dark chocolate onto a plate.

Burnes
moved to the island, set down his glass. “Don’t break her heart.”

What a jerk. “I don’t intend to.”

“Nobody ever intends to, but it still happens.”

Ash tossed the block of chocolate on the counter. “Can you stop this bullshit for one second? You’ve been riding me since the day I walked back into her life. I love Arianna and she loves me. We’re making a life together, with or without your approval.”

Those damn eyes glittered. “Marriage is about more than sex and good times.”

“No kidding? A few years ago you were bedding everything in a skirt and now, what, you’re a marriage counselor? Go to hell and leave us alone.”

The bastard’s lips twitched, broke into a smile that morphed to a damn grin. “You really do love her.”

Ash shook his head and glared at him. “Screw you.”

Burnes held out his hand. “I had to be sure. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Come on, let’s call a truce.”