Chapter 17 #2
I bit my lip to keep my sloppy grin in check.
Even with Ash at my back, I was certain he'd see it otherwise.
I wanted to give him my sloppiness, I wanted it very much, but I knew he'd dip his chin and frown in that way of his and say something about there being nothing heroic in putting someone to bed.
For all I knew, it was as everyday as holding the door open for the person coming in behind you yet that didn't make it any less foreign to me.
I couldn't remember anyone gathering me up and tucking me into bed before.
No one had ever held me through a night not punctuated by sex of some sort.
No one had ever held me like I was important enough for them to hold on.
The daffy part of this was I'd slept through most of it.
I was a light, fitful, somewhat insomniac sleeper though I barely remembered him stripping me down or settling me beneath the blankets.
It was as though my mind and body knew to trust Ash, knew we were safe here with him, and we didn't need to be on guard all the time.
"You must stop agonizing over last night," I said.
"I'm not agonizing. I'm stating I want an evening with you without the interruption of clients or sisters." He grabbed the back of my chair, spun it toward him. He flicked a hand toward the documents. "Put that down. Come here."
"You can wait a second." I swiveled back to the desk, taking care to set the papers I'd sorted on one side and those still in a garbled mess on the other.
I did not want to start this process all over.
That, and waiting was good for Ash. It gave him something new to growl about and took his mind off everything else.
When I was ready, I pushed out of the chair and into his waiting arms. He kissed my hair like always and held me tight, exhaling softly as if this contact came as a relief.
It was a relief to me too. His touch had put me at ease since he fell asleep on my shoulder and all the fear and anxiety I'd accumulated in my break from Denver and its associated parts hushed.
I chose to accept this about us rather than analyze it. Nothing good could come of me annotating the reasons I'd thoroughly melted into this man's life nor him into the new construct I called my life.
"I already know you can hold your own with my mother and Mag but don't let either of them pump you for information.
" He skimmed his hand down my spine and under the thin cotton of my sweater to rest on the small of my back.
"They'll ask lots of nice, innocent questions and then they'll be back at my apartment, taking measurements of the guest room to turn it into a nursery. "
"Don't be obtuse. They'd require us to move out of the city first. Somewhere with room to grow."
He made a deep, raspy sound in agreement that I felt as much as I heard. "At least two bedrooms for the babies. Maybe three."
"Why stop at three when you could have four?" I joked.
Another rasp, another growl, and then a hand clamped on my hip. "Why ask that question when I'm not inside you?"
There wasn't a single earthly reason to find that comment arousing.
I was starting my life over, inventing a new way for myself and putting my pieces back together all at once, and the last thing in the world I needed was an eager pair of ovaries egging me on.
And yet— "Because it'll give you something to ponder between now and when you come find me. "
And to be sure, none of this was real. There were no babies, no nurseries, nothing more than a truly unsafe-for-work conversation between people who felt better when they touched.
"Oh my god." Ash ducked his head to my neck, his lips and teeth connecting with my skin as if he intended to mark it. "It's like you're asking me to fuck you in a dressing room."
Since I really enjoyed some virile male swagger and was guaranteed a special kind of sex monster in bed with me tonight, I said, "Identify the problem in that for me."
"God, Zelda." He shifted his hand to my ass, jerked me up against his body hard enough to acquaint me with his erection. "I don't know what you think you're doing right now."
"Nothing you don't want."
"Fuck me if that isn't the truth," he murmured to my cheek.
"Your mother will be here any minute."
He rolled his hips, groaning as he palmed my jaw to kiss me. "Don't you dare let them put you in anything that isn't, you know, Zelda."
Since this wasn't the moment for button pushing, I kissed the corner of his mouth and said, "I won't."
"And don't accept any candy from my mother," he added. "She never remembers to mention her candy is the recreational variety."
I rested my head on his chest. "Your mother is a national treasure."
He gave a snort that shouldn't have been adorable on a man who traded in being the smartest guy in the room. "She's extremely—" Before he could finish that thought, the main door swung open and Diana stepped in, phone pressed to her ear and a binder wedged under her arm.
"I specifically requested wisteria and stated repeatedly that wisteria was non-negotiable.
If I'd known you wouldn't be able to deliver, I would've selected a different florist," she said in the tone of voice reserved for women who knew how to speak to a manager.
Holding up a finger, she mouthed one minute.
"I am not interested in a substitution."
"She's extremely," Ash murmured.
I kept my head on his chest and let him hold me a bit longer. "I can see that."
"If you're unable to source the agreed-upon materials, I will expect a revised contract with a steep discount for the trouble I've incurred. I will also be forced to climb a ladder and cut down the wisteria growing in my backyard because I am unwilling to consider any alternative," Diana said.
"That's a terrible idea," Ash said to her. "Don't climb anything. Please."
"I'll anticipate a follow-up call within the hour," Diana continued, ignoring Ash.
"That's much better. Thank you." She dropped the phone into her shoulder bag, set the binder on my desk, and approached us with outstretched hands.
"How do you get more gorgeous and glowing every day?
Oh, I cannot wait to dress you up in pretty gowns. "
"Thank you but gowns aren't my style," Ash said.
"Would you stop it, son." Diana hit him with a pursed-lip frown. "You know I was talking to Zelda."
"And here I was, thinking you'd noticed me at all," he said. "Apparently not."
Stifling a laugh, I asked, "Is everything all right with the flowers?"
She gave an epic eye roll. "It will be, even if I have to get in there and arrange them myself.
" Deciding she was done with that topic, she patted the binder twice.
"We should make our way over to the shop.
It's a quick walk. You don't mind, do you?
I hate to give up a good parking space once I've found one. "
"Sounds great." I tipped my head back to meet Ash's steady gaze. "You'll have to let me go, you know."
"I know nothing of the sort," he replied.
Diana headed back toward the door, calling, "Ash, we don't have time for this territorial nonsense. Save it for another day when I don't have a schedule to keep."
"I'll text you the address of the shop and I won't accept candy from anyone," I said to him, low enough for it to stay between us. "Go get that shoulder checked out. I want you in full working order, boss."
He kissed my forehead. "Pick a dress I can fuck you in, okay? Nothing too complicated."
From the door, there was a slight gasp and "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."
I nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"I don't have to breathe. Breathing is highly overrated," Magnolia said from the pedestal in the center of the shop. "I will be fine without breathing for, like, eight hours."
"If you continue stressing like this, you're going to give yourself hives," Diana called from somewhere in the racks of white silk and tulle. "Or worse, a pimple. We don't have time for an emergency dermatologist visit this week."
Magnolia caught my eye in the mirror while two seamstresses pinned the bustle into place. "I love this dress," she said. It sounded like an apology. "I do. It's totally perfect for me and the venue and all, but I'm halfway terrified I'm going to look like an overstuffed sausage in my photos."
I tipped my head to the side as I studied the stunningly simple ball gown. The skirt was full and sumptuous, and the sweetheart neckline was precious on her. She was right about it being totally perfect. "You don't look like a sausage at all. You look incredible."
"Thank you." She lifted her arms, glanced down at the dress. "Seriously, thank you for coming along for this. I know it's a lot to ask."
I waved away her words as I collected the flute of champagne I'd abandoned following our arrival.
I'd been too busy trying on the dozen or so dresses Diana plied me with to consider champagne.
Now, with a divine backless floral print floor-length dress bagged and hanging near the door, I could derive joy from my beverage and all the associated frills of visiting a bridal boutique.
The velvet sofa, the billowing satin draped behind the mirrors, the plush ivory carpets.
This was new to me, the whole bridal thing.
No, that wasn't true. I hadn't forfeited my share of save-the-dates or bachelorette weekends.
I'd attended plenty of weddings for camp and college friends.
YouTube once taught me how to sew a strapless bra into a bridesmaid dress because alterations weren't in my budget.
I'd consumed an ample quantity of Say Yes to the Dress.
However, I'd never witnessed a mother-of-the-bride dressing down a florist or acting as the bride's shoulder of support during her final fitting. I'd never really been in it.
"Don't mention it," I said. "This is fun."