7. Ash
ASH
L eaving Marsden Manor is much harder than I expect.
I stand beside my car as Wolfe leans against the driver's side door. He’s unmasked, and in the afternoon sun his scarred face is achingly beautiful as he studies me with those intense green eyes.
"It's only a few days," I remind him, though the words are more for my benefit.
"I know." His thumb traces my lower lip, sending that familiar heat spiraling through me. "Doesn't make it easier."
"You’ll text me?" I say, rising on my toes to kiss him. "Send me pictures of what you're working on? Tell me about your day?"
"I'm not much of a texter," he warns, but his mouth quirks upward.
"Then learn, Beast. For me. "
He captures my lips in a kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes. When we break apart, I'm breathless and ready to crawl back into his bed.
"Go," he murmurs against my forehead. "Before I change my mind about letting you leave."
The drive to Willa and Dash's place takes thirty minutes through winding mountain roads, and I spend every one of them thinking about Wolfe. My phone buzzes with a text just as I pull into their driveway.
Already miss you. House feels empty.
I grin like an idiot, quickly typing back.
Miss you too. I just arrived.
Looking up, the front door of the McCafferty mansion bursts open and Willa comes running out, her honey blonde hair flying behind her.
"Ash!" She practically tackles me with a hug the moment I step out of the car. "I've missed you so much! How was the assignment? Did you get good shots? Was the Beast of Marsden Manor a beast in every way?"
I laugh, returning her enthusiastic embrace. “One question at a time, Bestie. And keep it G-rated. For now. ”
“Who even are you?” she says laughing. “Fine, but later you will spill it all.” She grabs my bag from the backseat. “Dash is making us chicken pot pies, and Brynn has been asking about Auntie Ash non-stop.”
As if summoned, four-year-old Brynn appears in the doorway, all pigtails and gap-toothed smile. "AUNTIE ASH!"
My heart melts as she launches herself at my legs. "Hey, sweetpea!"
"I made you cookies and drawed you a picture of a haunted house!"
"Drew," Willa corrects gently.
I pat Brynn’s head. "I can't wait to eat these cookies and see this picture!"
Dash emerges, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. He's every bit the heart throb I remember from the former reality show, McCafferty Customs —tall, with piercing blue eyes, and as solid as the trees surrounding their property. But the best part about him is how much he loves Willa and Brynn.
His easy smile is warm as he pulls me into a bear hug. "Good to see you, Ash. How'd the big assignment go?"
"Really well," I say, already missing Wolfe so much it's a physical ache. "Wolfe Marsden was...unexpected."
Suddenly, my phone buzzes again.
I can’t stop thinking about you. What have you done to me, woman!?
I bite my lip to hide my smile.
"Ash?" Willa's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You're blushing."
“Am I?” I shove my phone in my pocket. “Maybe it’s hot in here.”
She gives Dash a look, then narrows her eyes at me. “This has got to be good.”
* * *
Dinner is wonderful. Dash has become quite the cook, and Brynn entertains us with elaborate stories about her preschool adventures. Willa talks about all the new projects she has going at the Deepwood Mountain Library since she’s become the Head Librarian.
Dash has taken on the main childcare duties, spending most of his time at home with Brynn. But he goes into the shop a couple of times a week to check in on his cousin, Zane, and the rest of the crew.
Throughout the meal, my phone keeps buzzing with texts from Wolfe. Sweet ones about what he's working on, flirty ones that make me squirm in my seat, and surprisingly honest ones about how strange it feels to be without his mask around the house.
After Dash and Willa put Brynn to bed, Willa and I curl up on the couch with wine while Dash retreats to the garage to work on a bike.
"Now," Willa says, settling back with her glass of pinot noir. "Tell me about this mysterious hottie, Mr. Marsden, who has you glued to your phone."
I can't help the dreamy smile that crosses my face. "Wolfe is amazing."
"Go on."
I take a sip of wine, trying to organize my thoughts. "Willa, he's an artist. A true artist. The haunted attraction isn't just some cheesy Halloween thing—it's beautiful and haunting and meaningful. And he's..." I trail off, searching for the right words.
"Gorgeous?" she supplies helpfully.
"Yes…and scarred," I say. "From an explosion in Afghanistan. He saved his unit, but paid a price for it. He hides behind this mask, yet underneath..."
"Oh my god, you did sleep with him!" she says, much too loudly.
"Willa! Don’t wake up Brynn!” I whisper.
She waves me off. "She’s a heavy sleeper like her dad.” She shakes her head. “I thought you’d sworn off men for a while?”
“I did, but Wolfe isn’t just any man.”
Willa tilts her head as she studies me. “I can tell. You’re positively smitten. Plus, you've checked your phone more than the teenagers I see at the library." She grins. "Good for you. You deserve someone who treats you better than that asshole Neil did."
The mention of my ex makes me wince. Neil, with his unrealistic demands and constant criticism, his way of making me feel small and worthless. The complete opposite of Wolfe, who makes me feel seen and cherished and powerful.
"It's not just physical," I say softly. "Though that part is... wow . There's something much deeper going on with us.”
Willa's expression goes soft. "I'm happy for you, hon."
My phone buzzes again, and we both look at it expectantly.
I pick it up.
Working on a new mask. Thinking of you while I sculpt. Everything I create is more beautiful when you're in my thoughts.
I melt a little, and show Willa the text.
She squeals. “That's so romantic! Lately, all Dash sends me are pictures of motorcycle parts.”
“Aww, that’s his love language, Will.” I laugh.
Willa giggles. “So, what happens now? Long distance?” She leans forward and grabs my arm. Hard. “Are you moving to Montana?"
“Chill,” I reply with a chuckle. Honestly, the questions make my stomach twist anxiously. “I don't know yet. We're still figuring that stuff out.”
Willa and I talk until late into the night. She fills me in on local gossip while I try to focus on anything other than how much I want to be back at the manor and in Wolfe’s arms.
Eventually, I excuse myself to my laptop to edit and submit my photos to the magazine.
I work methodically, selecting the best shots of the manor, the exhibits, and Wolfe himself.
The masked photos are stunning, dramatic and mysterious, capturing the Gothic romance of both the man and his creation.
But as I’m scrolling through the images, I come upon the unmasked photo from the library.
The one Wolfe said I could take just for me…
the intimate portrait that shows the vulnerable, beautiful man beneath the Beast of Marsden Manor.
This photo isn't for public consumption.
It's private, personal, mine.
But god, it's spectacular. The way the light catches the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the rawness of his expression. It shows exactly what I see when I look at him—not a monster, but a hero.
I set it aside and upload the approved photos to the magazine's portal, then fire off a quick email to my editor explaining the context and story behind each shot.
By the time I'm finished, it's nearly 2 a.m. I pick up my phone and send a text.
You awake? Finally finished uploading photos. Missing you like crazy.
Yeah, I can't sleep. Keep thinking about you in my bed. And how much I want to devour every inch of you.
I groan softly, pressing my thighs together. This man is going to be the death of me.
I'll be back soon. Promise.
Not soon enough. Sweet dreams, beautiful.
* * *
The next morning dawns crisp and clear, and I wake to the sound of Brynn giggling in the kitchen. I stretch, already reaching for my phone to see if Wolfe has texted.
But when I read the text, my blood turns to ice.
Congratulations. Your piece will make quite the sensation. Nothing like exploiting the freak for career advancement. I should have known better than to trust someone whose job it is to expose people's secrets.
"What the hell happened?" I whisper, staring at the message in horror.
My phone suddenly rings. It’s my editor, Jane.
I pick it up. “Jane?”
"Ash! Brilliant work on the Marsden Manor piece," she gushes. "The photos are superb! Especially that unmasked shot. I sent the photos to Devin Zhao, Marsden Manor’s business manager, for final approval before we publish. It’s standard for a feature this size, but I wanted to give you a heads up that they might request changes. "
The words pummel me over the head. "The unmasked shot?"
"Yeah, the gorgeous close-up of Wolfe Marsden without his mask? It's the money shot, girl. That's going on the cover for sure. The whole tortured veteran angle, the romance of the Beast revealing his face—readers are going to eat it up . You've outdone yourself."
I can't breathe. "Jane, I need to call you back."
"Ash? Everything okay?"
"I...I made a mistake. A big one. I'll be in touch soon."
I hang up and immediately try calling Wolfe. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again. And again.
"Ash?" Willa appears in the doorway, her brow furrowed. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I fucked up, Willa. I fucked up so badly." I start pulling on clothes. "I have to go. I have to fix this."
"Slow down and tell me what happened."
I pause and put a hand to my forehead.
"I accidentally submitted a private photo with the others. A photo Wolfe specifically said was just for me. The magazine is planning to use it for the cover, and his business manager saw it and told him, and now he thinks I betrayed him, and?—"
"Breathe," Willa commands, grabbing my shoulders. "Okay, so you made a mistake. Mistakes can be fixed."