30. Letting Go
Chapter 30
Letting Go
Ori
R um & Ruin has only been open for an hour, and it’s already the talk of the town. A line stretches around the block, with people clamoring to get inside the intimate new hotspot.
Lucky for me, I have an all-access pass.
I wind around the crowd, shooting them a smile as I descend the steps into the roaring '20s.
A warm buzz of conversation weaves around me as I enter the speakeasy, mingling with the rich scent of aged whiskey and a faint smokiness in the air. The polished wood floor vibrates beneath my feet, the bass line from the jazz quartet thrumming throughout the space.
A few locals raise their glasses in greeting when I enter.
Doesn’t hurt to know the owner, I guess. Even if I haven’t seen the man in the last ten days.
After the Lucille and Trace whirlwind, Ash needed to get his head in the game if he wanted Rum & Ruin to open on time. He’s been working around the clock, but like everything in his life, he makes success look effortless.
Still, I miss the man.
Twirling around, I take in all the details: the brass sconces throwing golden light onto the polished wood tables, the soulful jazz song crooning about love and loss, and the servers decked out in full flapper gear. Their sequined dresses catch the light as they glide between tables, fringes swaying in time with the music.
I scan the room, but there’s no sign of Ash. He’s probably somewhere behind the scenes, ensuring every detail is perfect.
One thing is for certain. F. Scott Fitzgerald would be proud.
“Ori, you’re here.” Mina rushes over, pulling me into a warm hug. “You look fabulous.”
“Have to play the part, right?” I sway my hips playfully in my emerald green dress. I’d found this beauty at a vintage shop and knew it would be perfect for Rum & Ruin ’s grand opening. Paired with T-strap heels and a string of pearls, I feel like I’ve stepped straight out of the Gatsby era.
I motion to my friend. “You’re gorgeous, as always. Has Braden seen you yet?”
Mina blushes, waving a hand to dismiss my question. “He’s got his fair share of admirers tonight.”
I follow her gaze to where two women sit with Braden, hanging on his every word. But I also see something Mina doesn’t—how Braden’s gaze flits to my friend’s form every few seconds.
“I think you should give them some healthy competition.”
“No. I’m terrible at flirting,” Mina protests.
But I’m not about to be dissuaded. I stride over to Braden’s booth, flashing fake smiles at his two guests. “Hey, Braden.”
“Ori. How are you?”
“Good. I’m off to find a drink, but will you keep Mina company?”
Braden smiles and slides out of the booth without hesitation. “Absolutely. I didn’t think she wanted to talk to me. She’s been distant lately.”
“I wonder why.” The sarcasm practically drips from my voice, but the younger Hammond brother doesn’t pick up on it. “You make her nervous.”
“Me? Why?”
“For the same reason she makes you nervous. Now scoot—I need a liquid refreshment.”
I smile when I sidle up to the bar, noting the mirror from the Dean Estate hanging front and center. She looks perfect there.
“What can I get you, miss?” a familiar voice asks from the other side of the bar.
I turn and grin at Zane, who’s fully embracing the 20s-era theme. "Moonlighting, huh?"
He shrugs. “Keeping the natives in line.”
“Good luck with that. So, what do you recommend?”
“For you? It’s obvious. There’s only one choice.” He mixes a few ingredients together and sets the glass in front of me.
“That better be virgin,” Ash says over my shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’ll always protect your mama bear,” Zane replies with a wink.
I accept the drink and turn to face Ash, my breath catching at the sight of him. He’s stunning in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark suspenders framing his broad shoulders, and fitted charcoal pants that leave little to the imagination, highlighting every inch of his delicious physique.
“Don’t you look incredible?”
He polishes his fingers on his shirt, offering me a flash of his dimpled grin. “Not too bad, huh?”
“Good enough to eat. Although, I thought we weren’t telling anyone about our—you know,” I say, arching an inquisitive brow.
Ash shrugs, his signature smirk firmly in place. “I might have mentioned it to a few people.”
“Well, Zane is family. Has anyone asked about Lucille leaving?”
“Funny thing. Seems no one in town is surprised the baby isn’t mine.”
“I wonder why,” I muse.
“Because I’m crazy about you and the entire population of Sparkwood knows it.”
“Now that I like to hear.” I take a sip of the drink, tasting the hint of peach on my tongue. “This is delicious. What’s it called?”
“The Oriana.”
“You named it after me?”
“Yep. She’s our signature house cocktail. Sweet, delicious, and will put you on your ass if you’re not careful.”
“Sounds about right,” I reply with a grin. “It’s damn good.”
Ash leans closer, his voice a husky whisper. “Doesn’t taste nearly as good as you.”
I shoot him a playful scowl. “You didn’t really name it after me.”
“Check for yourself. You’re pretty damn important to me.” He pulls a menu from the bar and points to the top of the drink menu. There it is— The Oriana . I’ll be damned.
I bite my lip, fighting a grin as a rush of feelings sweeps through me. "So, you kind of like me a little, huh?"
Ash’s expression softens, and he exhales, locking his gaze with mine. "No. I’m fucking in love with you." He drags a hand over his brow, a nervous chuckle slipping out. "Didn’t mean to say it like that."
Holy hell, he just told me he loves me. He just told me he loves me. He … wow.
“Did you mean to say it at all?” I ask, my voice a throaty whisper.
Instead of answering, he smiles and presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss.
“That’s not the only surprise,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Look behind the stage.”
I pivot, craning my neck to get a better view. When I spot it, my hand flies to my mouth. “That’s me.”
On the wall is a mural of me on the beach in Florida. The same drawing Ash once showed me in his sketchbook.
“That’s you, little one,” he says, wrapping his arms around me in a warm cocoon. “Can I just say how gorgeous you look tonight?”
“Like it?” I wiggle my hips, causing the fringed hem to swing against my legs.
"So damn much," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Might have to take you to my office and show you exactly how much."
“Remember what happened the last time we played too much in that office,” I remind him, biting back a laugh.
In a move that catches me totally off guard, Ash bends down and presses a soft kiss to my stomach.
“Best thing in the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with reverence.
Universe, if this is a dream, I want to sleep forever. Deal?
The mayor walks over, also decked out, in period appropriate attire, and whispers something in Ash’s ear.
“I’ll be back. You okay?” Ash asks, his eyes fixed on me.
“I’m perfect.” And at this moment, I am.
I scan the bar, noting how Braden and Mina look very cozy together in a corner booth. Good. It’s about damn time.
Settling onto a bar stool, I sip my drink, my foot tapping to the rhythm of the music as I soak in the night’s levity.
What a brilliant idea Ash had, restoring this place to its original glory. I’m so lucky to be a part of it.
“So, you’re the reason Ash said no.”
I turn on the stool, startled to see Casey, the scout from Ink Spot , standing next to me. “Excuse me?”
She motions toward the mural, a wry expression on her face. “Good likeness.”
“He’s a great artist,” I reply, my tone cautious.
“He is, which is why it’s such a damn shame he turned down the world tour.”
The what now?
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my stomach sinking.
Casey’s eyes narrow slightly as she leans closer, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. " Ink Spot wanted to sponsor Ash on a global tour—twenty of the most exclusive tattoo parlors in the world. Live events, guest spots, maybe even a behind-the-scenes documentary. It was a golden ticket. The kind of opportunity every artist dreams of. And he turned it down."
My throat tightens. “Ash never mentioned a world tour to me.”
“Really?” Casey raises a brow, her lips quirking as if she’s enjoying my discomfort a bit too much. “He was raring to go. They even started planning the itinerary—Tokyo, London, Buenos Aires, Berlin. Hell, he was going to tattoo on a yacht in Monaco. Then, out of nowhere, he calls me and says the deal is off. Said he had too much going on here in Sparkwood.”
The weight of Casey’s words falls heavy around me. Granted, she could be lying about the entire thing, but isn’t that a bit grandiose and detailed story to spin?
Besides which, what would be the point?
The answer? There wouldn’t be, which means Casey is telling the truth.
“You’re sure he said that?”
“Word for word.” She tilts her head, shooting me a curious look. “Now I definitely know you’re the reason behind it. Don’t worry, it’s his choice, but it’s a shame. It would’ve made him an international superstar in the tattoo world.”
“When was this supposed to happen?”
Casey shrugs, accepting a drink from Zane with a flirtatious smile. “A few months from now. He’d have been gone about twelve weeks.”
“And he didn’t tell you why he no longer wanted to do it?”
“It’s pretty easy to figure out, Ori. You’re his girlfriend. You’re his priority.”
Why the hell doesn’t that make me feel better?
“How do you know I’m Ash’s girlfriend?”
Casey smirks, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Every woman east of the Mississippi knows that. Honey, when a man like Asher Hammond leaves the market, women notice.” She winks and takes a sip of her drink. “Anyway, this speakeasy is amazing. The bee’s knees—wasn’t that what they used to say? I’ll have to plan a photo shoot here. Catch you later.”
“Wait.” I grab Casey’s arm before she can slip away. “If I talk to Ash and convince him to change his mind, will Ink Spot still agree to the tour?”
Casey considers my offer. “Honestly? I haven’t told my bosses yet. I was hoping I could come here tonight and sway him myself.”
We’ll ignore, for a moment, the tactics she likely plans to employ to sway him to her way of thinking. After all, I remember all too well her handcuffs and lube comment that night at the restaurant.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Sucking in a breath, I force a polite smile. “I’ll talk to Ash.”
“Are you sure?”
Am I? The thought twists in my chest. Letting Ash go means losing him to the global stage. And even though I know he’d come back to Sparkwood, I don’t know if he’d return to me.
But I can’t hold him here, either. That’s the worst kind of prison—one built of guilt and obligation.
“I’m positive,” I state, my voice steadier than I feel. “Just give me a little time.”
“Great. Thanks, Ori.” Casey clinks her glass against mine and disappears into the crowd, her cheerful demeanor firmly intact.
But my frivolity strolls away with Casey, leaving me with a growing kernel of doubt which threatens to eat away the tenuous happiness I’ve only recently built.
I’m not sure which bothers me more: Ash deciding against a global tour, something that would undoubtedly boost his prominence in the tattoo industry, or him never mentioning it to me.
All I know is I refuse to be the reason he stays. I won’t be yet another obligation he has to fulfill.
Arms slip around my waist, and Ash’s intoxicating scent washes over me as he nuzzles my neck. “Hey, little one. Sorry, it’s so crazy tonight. I promise I will have more time for you two starting tomorrow.”
His words are tender, and I know he means them, but I need to speak my piece—before I lose my nerve and bury the issue.
I turn in his embrace, resting my hands on his muscled forearms. “Never apologize. Rum & Ruin is a triumph, and I hope you’re enjoying every second.”
His gaze sweeps around the speakeasy, an affable smile on his lips. “Hard to believe this is where it all started, huh?”
“A new beginning.”
“We’ve got lots of those happening,” Ash murmurs, dropping a kiss beneath my ear.
We sure do, even if we aren’t together for all of them.
“Can we talk?”
“Absolutely, but can it wait two minutes? I have to go up and say a few words to the guests. You know how it is.”
“Of course.” I rise on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Ash makes his way through the crowd to the small stage, accepting the microphone from the svelte singer with a smile. “How’s everyone enjoying a taste of the Gatsby era?”
Applause sounds from around the speakeasy, and my heart clenches with pride as Ash works the crowd like a master.
“I can’t believe I’m actually standing here. This has been a lifelong dream for me, and now she’s here. She’s real.” He holds up his glass, his eyes locking with mine. “And I have one person to thank for that. Oriana Thorne, I never saw you coming. A lot of people here in Sparkwood probably remember how much we hated each other, but a faulty lock on a basement door changed all that. Some sexy lingerie didn’t hurt, either.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd, but Ash’s grin softens as his gaze stays fixed on me.
“She loves lingerie. The sexier, the better. And she doesn’t need an occasion—says it makes her feel sexy. I’ll bet she’s wearing some right now.”
A few more chuckles rise up from the bar patrons.
“The thing is, Ori doesn’t need anything to be sexy. She’s the total package—brilliant, beautiful, and absolutely one of a kind.”
He pauses, and for a moment, the crowd fades away, leaving just the two of us in the room. “You changed me, Ori. I heard every word you ever said, and I wanted to say them back. But I was a fool—I thought I had time to get my head straight. Then life went sideways, and you walked away. The color drained from my world, and I realized the only story I want to tell—the only life I want to live—has to have you in it.”
Everyone in the speakeasy pivots to look at me, my eyes bright with tears as I raise my glass in a toast. “Sorry to break it to you, Hammond, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Besides, you make a mean cocktail and I kind of like you a little bit.”
Actually, I adore you, which is exactly why I’m going to let you go.
Ash’s face splits into a wide smile as he hands the microphone back to the singer and makes a beeline through the crowd for me. “Hey, little one.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“You wanted to talk? Let’s go.”
We stroll hand in hand to his office, and he latches the door behind us, turning to me with a mischievous grin. “What did you want to talk about? How to get you out of that dress?”
“Tempting, but I’m not up for this many voyeurs.” I motion to the couch. “Have a seat.”
“Time for a striptease?”
“Not quite.”
Ash’s eyes widen slightly as he sits down. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you with the lingerie comment.”
Resting my foot on the edge of the couch, I hike my skirt to reveal the thigh-highs and garter belt underneath. “You were spot on.”
His gaze darkens, and he licks his lips, his hands tracing the contours of my leg. “Fuck, but you’re pretty. Come here.”
His touch sets my skin on fire, but I press my hands against his chest, stopping him. “Wait,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Let me say this first.”
He leans back, a curious expression crossing his face. “Okay. The floor is yours.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the world tour?”
Ash runs a hand along his jaw, his gaze flicking to the far wall. “Because I’m not doing it.”
I perch on the edge of the couch, resting a hand on his knee. “But you wanted to go.”
“Things change,” he replies, a hint of resignation in his voice. His eyes dart back to mine, and for a fleeting second, I catch the longing in them.
“That’s why I need to say this.” My voice shakes, but I press on. “I wanted you to be the one who saved me from myself. To build me a home in your arms so I could finally stop running. But that’s not fair to you. It’s not your job to save me, Ash. It’s not your job to fit someone else’s dream.”
His brow furrows, and I force myself to keep going. “Promise me something. Live your life on your terms. Chase what makes you happy, and never let it go.”
He studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “No matter who gets hurt in the process?”
“If you don’t follow your bliss, you’ll end up hurting. And you deserve better than that.”
Ash clicks his tongue against his teeth as he processes what I said. “Let me get this straight. You want me to put aside everything everyone in my life wants in favor of what I want? Disregard Braden, my folks, the people at Black Lotus ... even you ?”
I nod, despite the tightness in my throat. “Exactly. Do what makes you happy.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“I do.”
And at that moment, I realize it’s the truth. We can’t force anyone to stay anywhere. The best we can hope for is that certain people might want to journey by our side, but there’s no guarantee of how long they’ll stay.
There’s no guarantee, period.
I think I finally understand how my father felt, breaking free of a life that didn’t fit him in order to pursue the one that did. Maybe now I can finally work on forgiving him.
Ash reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and returning me to the moment. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving me that much. Enough to let me go.”
I smile as my vision blurs with unshed tears. “Anything less isn’t love. The best stories are the ones with endings you never see coming. Where the narrative shifts, and you see everything in a whole new light. You’re my favorite plot twist, no matter our ending.”
I smooth my dress and take a few slow, deep breaths, Ash’s gaze never wavering from me. “I’m going to head home. This place is magnificent. You’re magnificent. I’m so glad I know you. Really glad I’m allowed to love you.”
He bites his lip, and I know, without him saying a word, that he’s equally overwhelmed with emotion. “We close at two, so it’ll be a few more hours before I can leave.”
“Okay.” I lean down to place a lingering kiss on his cheek. “Casey is sticking around. She wants to talk to you.”
Ash nods, but before I can step away, he pulls me onto his lap and buries his head in the crook of my neck. “I do not deserve you.”
We need to lighten the mood. My disclosure, however necessary it may be, has hung a pall over the night, and that will never do.
So, as is my nature, I opt for levity—and a little sarcasm. “True. You got damn lucky with me.”
Ash laughs, delivering a soft nip to my skin. “Woman, what am I going to do with you?”
“So many things. And remember, I spent a pretty penny on this lingerie. You’d better make sure it’s put to good use.”
“I locked the damn door, little one. I’m ready now.”
But I giggle and squirm free from his grasp. “Too many interruptions tonight. And you know I like it when you take your time. See you later, handsome.”
As I exit the speakeasy, I realize something—I didn’t let go of Ash tonight. I gave him the freedom to choose. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the kind of love that lasts.
I awaken to the jingle of keys in the lock and jerk upright, glancing at the clock.
2:45.
Ash appears in the bedroom doorway, a rueful smile tugging at his mouth. “Damn, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
He jiggles the keyring before tossing it onto the dresser. “I told you I was coming home after the opening.”
“I thought you meant your home.”
“You’re here. Our baby is here. That’s home to me.” He pauses, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “Plus, I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”
“A surprise?”
“Yeah, and it’s a big one.”
The last one with Lucille was a pretty damn big one, too.
Ash unbuttons his shirt and walks over to drop a kiss on my mouth. “I’m hopping in the shower.”
“Okay.”
I watch him disappear into the bathroom, my thoughts swirling like a whirlwind. I wonder how things played out with Casey and the upcoming tour. Although I’m desperate for details, I’ll give him a few minutes to unwind first.
Ten minutes later, he emerges in a cloud of steam, a towel hanging low on his hips, droplets of water glistening on his skin.
“Better?” I ask, my eyes slowly trailing over his tatted physique, drinking in every inch. Damn, he’s a work of art.
Trust me, the man knows exactly what he does to me—and to the female population at large.
“Much.” He drops the towel and slips into bed next, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest. “I’ve barely slept the last two weeks. Apparently, insomnia is my new best friend.”
“Now you can get some well-earned sleep. How was the rest of the night?”
But Ash doesn’t answer me.
“Ash?”
Seems sleep has finally claimed him.
I press my lips to his in a soft kiss before settling my head against his chest. Looks like our chat will have to wait for another day.
“Goodnight, Ash.”
And then I hear it, so faint it’s almost unintelligible.
“Love you, Ori.”
But when his arms tighten around me, I know that regardless of our future, he means what he says. He loves me, and somehow, that will be enough.