Page 56 of Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Twenty-One

Rae

Once Ash openedup to me, it was like he became an entirely new man. Oh sure, he was still reserved and could go through long bouts of silence—I think that’s just who he was at heart—but now he was more candid than he’d ever been before. He no longer avoided certain topics, afraid of what he’d have to reveal about himself, and he’d stopped shying away from discussing his time in the military. In fact, the past few nights he’d shared stories with me about the people he’d known and the places he’d seen. They weren’t always happy stories—more often than not they were heartbreaking—but they were his and for that I was grateful.

But the biggest surprise was when he picked up my guitar and begin strumming a tune I’d never heard before. He’d been plucking away at it for the past ten minutes orso.

“What’s that?” I asked, looking up from my notebook with a smile.

I was putting the final touches on some lyrics I’d written a couple of days before. I hadn’t intended to add any additional music to my album, but with my relationship with Ash growing by leaps and bounds, I wanted to document this time of my life as well. I had enough songs about my heartache, and I liked the idea of ending the album on a hopeful note. There were no guarantees that Ash and I would go the distance, but for the first time in a very long while, being with someone made me happy instead of miserable, and I wanted to honor that through my music.

After a few more notes, he set the guitar aside. “Just something I was messing aroundwith.”

“I’d hardly call that messing around. It was beautiful.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged off my praise. If I hadn’t just seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have believed Ash Devereaux was capable of embarrassment.

Walking to the window, he said, “I miss it, youknow?”

I did know because being without my guitar would have felt as if I’d lost a limb. It was part of me, an extension of all that I was. Knowing that Ash had once harbored dreams of being a professional musician, I was surprised he’d gone this long without playing.

“I get it,” I said, walking over to him. Wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, I kissed his back and then breathed in his earthy, woodsy scent.

“Did you just smell me?” He chuckled.

“Guilty,” I answered, taking another deep, obvious whiff.

“Come here, weirdo,” he laughed, pulling me around in front ofhim.

Time stood still as we stared at one another in the fading coral and violet light of evening. Around us the room glowed and the air felt ripe with possibility.

“Will you play forme?”

Ash broke my gaze and stared out the window. “It’s been awhile.”

“You’re good, Ash. I want to hear something of yours.”

“I don’t know, Rae. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Bullshit,” I challenged, dragging his face back to mine. “You just told me you miss it. So stop missingit.”

“It’s not thateasy.”

“It’s exactly that easy,” I answered, laying my palm flat on his chest. “You pick up the guitar and you play the first thing that comes tomind.”

“That’s the problem,” he responded. “Everything I used to play is all wrapped up in her. The last songs I wrote were about how she made me feel. I don’t want to bring her into this any more than I alreadyhave.”

I dropped my head back and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Has it escaped your notice how I’ve spent every day since we’ve been here? I’m making a goddamn album about my ex-husband—the joy of first love and the agony of heartbreak when he endedit.”

Ash stepped away and ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long enough that soon he’d be able to pull it back all the way. I didn’t typically find man buns attractive, but with his chiseled cheek bones and rugged good looks, it would work. Hell, not only would it work, but he’d look sexy asfuck.

“That’s different,” he finally answered. “I knew what I was getting into when we came out here. I was prepared to hear all about Ford and what he did to you. You had no clue you were about to get involved with someone with as much baggage as Ihave.”

“And I’ve told you,” I said striding toward him, my finger pointed at his chest, “that your past is irrelevant to me.” I halted my approach. “Scratch that. It’s not irrelevant because it made you the man you are today. And if out of that past comes beautiful music, I want to hear it.” Standing in front of him now, I winked saucily. “You show me yours, I’ll show youmine.”

Ash rolled his eyes and laughed. Then, before I knew what was happening, he crouched down and tossed me over his shoulder. As he marched down the hallway toward his room, he chortled, “Oh, I’ll show you something alright.”

“On your knees, Rae.”

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