Ashlyn nodded, then reached for the lamp next to the couch. She turned off the light, then went to the curtains on the windows and shut those too. She knew how painful sunlight could be when she had a headache. Slate probably felt the same. His relieved sigh told her she was right.
“Oh, by the way, I’m not answering any of the texts from our friends. You sent the message, you can deal with them.”
“No problem. I’ll deal by ignoring them,” he said with a small smile, even as he shut his eyes.
Ashlyn watched him for a while. Even if she was slightly overwhelmed by how she’d gone from wanting to break up with Slate to admitting that she loved him, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d totally be talking to the other women about everything that happened. They would be thrilled for her, and probably smirk and say they knew all along she and Slate were gonna end up together…for real together.
Taking a deep breath, Ashlyn turned to the kitchen to start getting the lasagna ready. She needed to build Slate’s strength back up. Get him back to the bossy, slightly annoying, protective man she knew and loved. She didn’t like it when he was unsure and hurting.
Somehow a day that had started out miserable had ended up as one of the best of her life. Being in a relationship with Slate wouldn’t be without its ups and downs, but as long as they said they loved each other at the end of each day, and promised to deal with the bumps in the road, they’d be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The last four days had been some of the happiest of Ashlyn’s life, for no other reason than she’d spent them with the man she loved.
They’d stayed at her apartment Sunday night into Monday, then had gone back to Slate’s house the rest of the week. When she’d carefully removed his shirt Sunday night, before settling him into bed, the bruises covering his body shocked her. Slate had way downplayed his injuries. Ashlyn had refused to let him push himself too much after that, insisting he give himself time to heal.
But it was obvious yesterday that he was mostly back to his old self. He insisted on working out Thursday morning, lifting some light weights and doing sit-ups and pullups—no running yet.
It was Friday morning, and time for them both to return to their normal routines. Even though he didn’t have to go back into work until Monday, Slate was anxious to talk to his commander and give his account of what happened in Afghanistan. Her man was damn stubborn, but also, luckily, a fast healer.
They’d finally made love last night. Ashlyn had attempted to keep things slow and easy, but it wasn’t long before they were both too desperate to continue that route.
Slate had been insatiable, telling her over and over how much he loved her as he made her orgasm three times with his mouth and fingers before taking pity on her. She tried to roll over so he could take her from behind—she freaking loved when he fucked her that way—but he wouldn’t allow it, forcing her onto her back and sinking deep inside her while they were face-to-face.
“After everything that happened, the first time we make love,” he said, emphasizing the words, “I want to see your face. Want to look into your eyes so you can see just how much I love you.”
She’d melted. How could she say no to that?
And he’d done just what he’d said, thrusting over and over slowly, steadily, without taking his gaze from hers. He’d brought her to the edge once more, until she was begging him to let her come. The second she curled into him and began trembling, he’d lost it, pounding into her again and again, repeating I love you, I love you, to the beat of his thrusts.
Afterward, they’d clung to each other, their hearts racing a mile a minute.
Now she was in her car, trying to stop daydreaming about last night.
She was looking forward to seeing her clients again. Though, they were more than clients. They were her friends, and Ashlyn was excited to see what she’d missed in the last four days. It was hard to believe it was only Friday. It felt as if weeks had gone by. Her life had changed so much in the last few days…for the better.
Elodie, Lexie, Kenna, Monica, and Carly had been overjoyed at the change in her and Slate’s relationship. And yes, Ashlyn had heard a lot of “not surprised” and “about time” from her friends, but she wasn’t annoyed in the least. It was obvious they were all thrilled for her and Slate.
Everyone on her route was happy to see her as well. Jazmin was excited to show her Henry’s first tooth peeking through his gums. Briar and Curtis showed off their latest drawings, and Brooklyn was bursting with happiness because Trey had gotten a new job that paid five dollars more an hour. Even Christi smiled more than usual as they sat in the sun on her back porch for twenty minutes.
The only person who wasn’t happy was James.
Ashlyn had approached his house with a spring in her step, excited to see him. But the second she saw him when he opened his door, she knew something was wrong. He smiled when he saw her, but something was definitely…off.
It took a bit of cajoling to get it out of him. After some small talk, after putting the piece of key lime pie Elodie had made on a plate for him, and after telling him all about the change in her and Slate’s relationship, she said, “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to sit here for the rest of my visit and pretend nothing’s up?”
James sighed. “I’m eighty-nine years old. You’d think I’d be used to people disappointing me by now.”
“What happened?” Ashlyn asked.
“It’s about Aiden.”
“Your home health aide?”
“Yeah. I’ve had my concerns about him for a while, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. The boy hasn’t had an easy life, and he’s been extremely helpful,” James said.
“But?” Ashlyn pressed when he didn’t immediately continue.
“You know I’m not a fan of banks, right?” James asked.
Confused about the change of subject, Ashlyn nodded. “I keep telling you that things have changed since you were a kid. That it’s safe to deposit your money now.”
James gave her a small smile. “I know, but old habits are hard to break. My parents talked about the depression all the time when I was growing up. They lost a lot of money because of the situation with the banks, and until the day they died, they kept their savings in the house. And don’t talk to me about interest,” he said, holding up a hand. “The paltry amount banks give you is a slap in the face. They’re making money hand over fist on our accounts, and yet they give us pennies on the dollar. It’s a rip-off!”
Knowing James could get extremely worked up when talking about this particular subject, Ashlyn tried to redirect him. “What happened with Aiden?”
James sighed. “I got my retirement check yesterday. Aiden was happy to take me to the bank to cash it. I always wait until I’m alone to hide my money. After Aiden left for the day, I went into the kitchen to put the money in one of my hiding places. I saw movement in my peripheral vision. It was Aiden, looking in through the window. I don’t think he knew that I saw him, but I can’t in good conscience have him in my house anymore.”
“Oh, James. I’m sorry,” Ashlyn said. “Are you sure he was actually spying on you?” It was a silly question, but she couldn’t help but ask anyway.