Undone, Volume 3 (25 page)

She also made me appear
on a poster. I wasn’t too happy about that at first but, hey, it
was for a good cause. Styled like the celebrity posters that simply
said “READ” and featured celebrities with a book, she had me
photographed with a book. Only she had them reverse the R in READ. It
was eye-catching, I’ll give her that. And it was all to raise
awareness and funding to help kids with learning disabilities like
dyslexia, the kinds of processing differences that made reading a
struggle.

Talk about uncool. Ash
Black from a year ago would have laughed at the absurdity of the
idea. Get on a poster to promote reading? No. And then on top of it,
advertise my learning disability? Become the poster boy for dyslexia?
Not going to happen.

Then I fell in love
with Ana and it turned out she could talk me into absolutely
anything. And it turned out people loved it and the campaign was
raising all kinds of awareness about and money for kids with learning
disabilities. All kinds of celebrities had taken to social media,
sharing their own stories about struggling in school, feeling stupid,
and how they’d gone on to overcome it all. Add it to the list—the
long list—of things I never would have pictured myself doing before
Ana. Now, I was so grateful I had.

“Thank you so much
for your guidance, Chester.” Gram swooped in, rescuing me from my
jowly relative whose name was apparently Chester. All these years I’d
never known. I’d have to send him a signed copy of the album he so
enjoyed.

“I have to say.”
Gram walked us through the room, Ana on one arm, me on another. “I
am so pleased by the alacrity with which you followed my directive.”

“Alacrity?” I
mouthed at Ana.

“Brisk and cheerful
readiness,” Gram replied, apparently picking up on my confusion.

“Eagerness,” Ana
offered as a synonym.

“Quite so,” Gram
agreed.

“So, you’re happy
we’re eager…” I still needed someone to connect the dots.

“Last Christmas I
told you that you needed to go and get yourself married. Here we are,
a year later, and you’re properly engaged to a lovely young woman
who does a tremendous credit to our family.” She paused in her
progress across the room, looking first at Ana, then at me. “I
could not be more thrilled.”

“You are so kind.”
Ana beamed at her.

“You know I always
try to follow rules.” I couldn’t help teasing Gram. I’d
reformed some of my ways, but not all.

“Pish posh.” Gram
dismissed my assertion without any real annoyance. “So, that’s
two of you tucked in nicely if we count Declan, as we certainly
should.” Her keen eyes roved through the crowd, searching for her
next target.

I spotted my older
brother Colton standing tall and regal talking to a dreadful looking
woman in a black suit. She looked like she was attending a funeral
instead of a holiday party.

“You should tell
Colton he needs to get married next.” I snickered as I leaned down
to Gram, speaking loud enough for Ana to hear.

“Hmm.” She seemed
to consider it, and I half believed she had the power to make it
happen should she wish. But, as if pressing on the top of a loaf of
bread, declaring it not done yet and popping it back into the oven,
Gram shook her head. “No, he needs more time. Still coming into his
own, you know.”

“Colton’s been in
his own since the day he was born,” I insisted. No one was more
confident and sure of himself than my pompous older brother, CEO of
Kavanaugh Industries.

“No…” Gram
paused, surveying the crowd, searching, searching, until… “Ah,
yes. Perfect.”

“No,” I disagreed,
seeing the poor sibling she’d alighted upon as the next up to get
married.

“I’m not
following,” Ana admitted.

“She’d deciding
which one of us is next to get married,” I explained.

“Of course,” Ana
agreed, as if it made perfect sense. Maybe she perceived my Gram as
all-powerful as well.

“I’m 84,” Gram
declared. “And I still have three grandchildren unattached. It
simply will not do.”

“I agree.” Ana
nodded.

“Heathcliff,” Gram
announced as if by decree. “By this time next year—”

“Gram, I hate to
interrupt you—”

“And yet you insist
on doing it.”

“I do, because Heath
is not going to get married next.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Please, enlighten me
as to why not. But first let me remind you that last year you
declared that under absolutely no circumstances were you going to get
married.”

“Oh, did he?” Ana
asked, amused.

“He most certainly
did. But this was before you,” Gram assured her. “Back in the
days when he refused to wear shirts.”

I cleared my throat. It
was true, I did used to take off my shirt a lot. I had to do
something for the ladies, like a public service. But now all I had to
offer belonged to Ana.

But this was about
Heath, and Heath was a different story. “Heath doesn’t shower.”
I started with the obvious.

“You’re
exaggerating,” Gram dismissed me.

“His beard is the
size of Texas.”

“It is formidable.”
Even Gram had to admit it. We three stood in a row surveying Heath.
Poor Heath. He had no idea.

He lurked in a corner
looking like a massive bear that had stumbled out of the wilds and
found himself in the midst of black tie event in New York City. It
sounded like the rough premise for a Disney movie. Only Heath didn’t
look Disney, he looked R-rated like a sniper about to pick off a
target. And I bet the ladies would love it if he took off his shirt.
The man was massive, built like a goddamned tree. He got bigger every
time I saw him. But right now he didn’t seem to be enjoying the
attentions of any ladies. He was most definitely giving off a “leave
me the fuck alone” vibe, clearly counting the seconds until he
could declare he’d fulfilled his duty as grandson and leave the
party.

“Beards are in,”
Ana insisted, inspiring a slightly jealous look from me. “But he
could use a trim,” she conceded.

Finally sensing himself
in the crosshairs, Heath looked over. As soon as he saw us, his scowl
deepened and he ducked into the crowd for cover. Smart man. But I
doubted even mountain man Heath had the cunning to avoid the skills
of Gram.

“I think Heath would
do well with some feminine company.” Gram decided it right then and
there.

“Do you think someone
outdoorsy, like him? Or maybe opposites attract?” I could already
see Ana going through her mental file of friends, starting to play
matchmaker.

“Seriously, the last
thing Heath wants is company.” I knew it was a losing battle, but
the guy had really been there for me this past winter right when I’d
needed him. The least I could do was defend a man’s right to
privacy.

“Perhaps an outdoorsy
woman would do.” Gram considered the idea, not sounding convinced.
“Either way, we have time before your wedding. Almost five months.
Plenty of time to see which way the wind blows for our Heath.”
Looping her arms through ours once again, she resumed our former
journey across the floor.

I shook my head. Poor
guy didn’t know what he had coming to him. I didn’t know how it
would all happen, but somehow I did believe that Gram would see to it
that Heath wouldn’t be attending this party stag next year. It made
me laugh. But now that Gram had said it, maybe I had to agree. Heath
might need someone to shave him down and give him a reason to shower,
at least every other day.

“Now, are you ready?”
Gram asked me, sounding serious.

“To sing a few
songs?” I looked at her and smiled. “Yup, I think I can handle
it.”

“Excellent. They’ve
been warned in advance this time. After their session break or set
wrap or…” She gestured to indicate some sort of musician’s
term.

“Sure, no problem.
I’ll go on when they’re ready.”

“I’m so looking
forward to hearing you sing.” She gave us each a hug and went off
to welcome more guests.

“She’s got it all
worked out for your brother, huh?” Ana looked up at me, a twinkle
in her eye. I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. I
couldn’t resist. She looked too tempting. I dipped my lips down to
hers and gave her a kiss. No cameras here like last year, I could
linger as I wished.

Until I heard a
not-so-subtle throat clearing. And if I had to make a guess…I
turned and, yes, it was my older brother Colton.

“Hey, man,” I
greeted him with the usual warmth I felt when it came to him. Which
was to say, not so much.

“Colton!” Ana
declared, giving him a big hug. He looked surprised, but pleased. Big
jerk, of course he was, with Ana’s arms wrapped around his
shoulders. The minute she was done, I pulled her to my side again.
“Good to see you,” she continued.

“Ana.” What, was
that a smile from the Baron of Warwick? Should I alert the
appropriate authorities?

“How you been?” I
asked him.

“Not as good as you,”
he retorted, giving me what might have been a conciliatory nod.
“You’ve had a great year.”

“Ah, thanks?” It
came out as a question. Because never before had praise come forth
from the man who disdained me and everything I did.

“Good album, by the
way.”

“You’ve listened to
my album?”

“I have,” he
agreed. “And I like it.”

I had nothing to say to
that. This was turning out to be the strangest holiday party I’d
ever attended.

“You think you’ll
record again with your old band, or is this your new direction?”

What, was my older
brother asking about my career as if he respected it as a legitimate
choice?

“I think Ash is still
figuring that out,” Ana supplied for me, sensing I was still too
shocked by Colton’s line of questioning to come up with a response.
And she was right. I hadn’t exactly quit The Blacklist, but we
weren’t on the best of terms, either. Johnny, our drummer, had been
fine with all my solo work, but Connor hadn’t. He’d hit the roof.
He’d left me more than one drunk voicemail message at three
a.m.—was there any other type of voicemail message left at three
a.m.?—alternating between telling me I could go fuck myself to
making fun of what a crybaby wanker I’d become with my new “touchy
feely bullshit songs.”

Connor had a lot to
sort out. I hoped he was able to do it, but I knew I couldn’t be
his partner-in-crime any more. Hopefully one day we’d patch
together a friendship again, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I had
more important things to hold on to.

Wrapping my hand
protectively around Ana’s waist, I drew her to me.

“Enjoy the party.”
Colton nodded at the both of us, apparently already on the move.
There, that was more like the big brother I knew, always large and in
charge and moving from point A to point B on his to do list. Before
he left, he leaned over to me.

“She’s a keeper.”
But before I could agree and give him a “get in here, bro” hug,
he added, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Yeah,” I agreed,
not so much feeling the hug anymore. But he was right on both counts.

Then he was gone and I
had Ana in my arms again.

“When do you have to
go on and sing?” she asked me as she wrapped her arms up around my
shoulders.

“Not for a while.”
I leaned down and kissed her again. I’d never tire of her taste,
her feel, the sighing sounds of pleasure that slipped from her parted
lips.

“I know this secret
passageway,” she whispered up into my ear. “Not even the catering
staff use it.”

“Yeah?” I smiled,
liking where this was going. “That sounds naughty.”

“It is,” she
assured me. “Last year, all kinds of naughty things happened back
there with this rock star I’d just met.”

“Oh, yeah?” I gave
her earlobe a light lick, then a quick, teasing bite. “That sounds
filthy.”

“So filthy,” she
agreed. “Just how I like it.” She smiled at me, full of mischief.

“Is that right?” I
had her hand in mine, quick, leading her through the crowd before she
could say another word. People smiled and tried to engage, but I
pushed on ahead. We had a place to go, and I had a woman to do.

That’s how it was
between us, how it always had been, right from the moment we’d met.
Like a match bursting into flame. And even now that I knew I had her,
that I’d have her for the rest of my life, it hadn’t slowed me
down, calmed my insatiable need. The gift of Ana to have and to hold,
it spurred me on. I needed to hold her, to have her, right then. And
again and again for the rest of our lives. Lucky dawg that I was, I
got to do exactly what I wanted.

Ana

“Show me how wet you
are for me,” Ash panted after he pulled me into the empty hallway.

He made me so wet. His
casual touches in the middle of a crowded party, the PG-rated kisses,
all it made me do was think of more. Now that I knew how good he
could make me feel, all he had to do was run a hand across the small
of my back and I felt it deep in my core. Now, I was glistening and
slick for him.

I slowly pulled up my
dress as he watched. Then I slid down my panties to my thighs so he
could see my slippery sex.

“So pretty,” Ash
admired me. “Touch yourself, baby. Show me how you want it.”

I brought my fingers
down. He liked to watch me touch myself. And it turned out I really
liked showing him. Boy, did it feel good to be bad.

Slowly, I slipped my
fingers into my folds, stroking myself, letting a moan slip out. I
pressed against my clit, getting turned on as much by my fingers as
by his reaction. He looked like a man possessed, fixed on my fingers
slipping in and out of my pussy, licking his lips. His hand against
the wall, his knuckles turned white as he gripped it. I could picture
his hand against my wrists, holding me there roughly as he drove into
me. It made me moan again as I worked myself.