I waited until I could get a moment alone with Ashley. I hadn’t lied when I said I needed to check on the crew’s progress while I was away. But once I was out of my truck and walking around, I had been just as busy on the phone, calling or texting.
“So,” I started, lifting her bag onto the bed and unzipping it. “I was thinking about your furniture situation.”
Ashley closed her eyes and shook her head, the overall expression one of benevolent indulgence.
“I know you want to buy your own.”
Opening her eyes, she shot a warning look. “I am buying my own.”
Pulling out one of the long t-shirts she slept in, I nodded. “I only mentioned that to bring up interim options.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little, but her gaze remained wary.
“Like I have a sleeper sofa in my home office. And there’s extra seating in the upstairs library. The chaise would be perfect for having your leg up and the pieces would only be a little mismatched because they are all the same basic color scheme and material.”
“What you’re suggesting,” she started, her voice a soft tiptoe around the offer. “Is a lot of effort for a short—”
“Six weeks isn’t a short period, Ash. I know the doctor said three to six weeks, but, with the level of pain I see when you walk around, three weeks with the cast isn’t going to cut it. He also said you shouldn't be on it near as much as you have been. So it could wind up being a lot longer than six.”
Clasping my hands behind me, I fought the urge to brace them against my hips, a habit I had developed watching my daddy when the man felt like he had to lay down the law to one of his kids.
“It would be a kindness to me,” I added, “having the pull out there.”
“No,” Ashley said, shaking her head so hard I realized I had a much bigger problem ahead of me than getting her to accept a loan of furniture.
“You can’t be considering driving yourself this week,” I rumbled, my hands finally finding my hips.
“I was going to arrange something on Uber or…”
She stopped talking as I prowled from the foot of the bed to where she sat with her back against the headboard. With little more than a hand’s width of mattress between her body and the edge of the bed, I sat down and placed a palm on each side of her, my face just far enough back from hers that neither of us went cross-eyed meeting the other’s gaze.
“No,” I rasped. “I don’t care if you’ve got a gun strapped to your hip, that’s not safe.”
“You have a business to run,” she countered.
“Something I’ve been doing for going on five years, day after day.”
Her hands moved between us, coming to rest against my chest, palms open, the fingertips hypnotically stroking at my collarbone.
“With someone trying to sabotage it?”
I shook my head, dislodging the spell her touch created.
“That’s over. We both know it was all about the park. Those guys have moved on.”
With a snort, she gave a soft push against my chest.
“You’re starting to sound like Moske.”
“Play nice, baby.” I leaned in, my breath reflecting off her cheek. “I understand you still investigating, but those men at least know their original plan has been burned.”
Circling Ashley’s wrists, I brought her arms up around my shoulders. My hands slid behind her back, pulling and holding her to me. My mouth found the shell of her ear and took a soft bite.
“Mama and Daddy had six kids.” I took another nibble and felt some of the fight leaving Ashley’s body. “Each one of us learned how to work the ranch and run timber.”
My teeth brushed a line to the edge of her jaw, the light scraping sending a shiver through her body that I could feel.
“We don’t put up with incompetent employees,” I coaxed. “Kostya’s been logging for almost as long as I’ve been alive.”
I finished the argument with my lips on hers, her mouth opening to release a shaky breath. She arched in my arms as my fingers ran down her spine.
A groan left Ashley, her body going limp for a second.
“You win,” she whispered, pushing me away but catching and holding my gaze. “I’ll accept the furniture loan and you can drive me this week if that’s what you want to do.”
“And the festival,” I demanded with a wink and a grin. “I can always throw on a lumberjack outfit and blend in.”
“And the festival,” she relented.
Leaning in again, I brushed the back of my fingers against her cheek.
“I know it’s hard, Ash, but thank you for letting me take care of you.”
She nodded, eyes misting and the muscles of her throat tightening.
Sensing I was close to pushing too hard, I planted a soft kiss on her forehead before retreating to the bedroom door.
“I’ll let you get some sleep.” I pointed to the wall the headboard rested against. “I’m just two doors—or a text—away.”
“Thank you.”
I dipped my head, but not before seeing the brief smile she forced. Slipping into the hall and pulling the door shut behind me, I wondered—how was I going to get someone as independent as Ashley to let me take care of her forever?