Heart of Ash (2 page)

Damn, she was hot. Long black hair, boobs out to here, a tiny nipped waist… But there was one thing he found very unattractive about her—the muscular arm draped over her shoulder. As hot as she was, Bella was dating Holt Lamm now. Any guy in his right mind would steer clear of those fists.

So even though his friend Cam, who was sitting with them, waved, Ash pretended not to notice and headed for an empty table like it was a door floating in the middle of the frigid, iceberg-speckled Atlantic.

His buddies were coming in on the six p.m. ferry and, after dropping their crap at the house, they’d be coming here. He checked his watch, the ostentatious Rolex his mother had given him on the illustrious occasion of his “first divorce.” And yeah, the guys would be here any minute.

He hated wearing expensive shit. It was like crack for the gold diggers. But Mom expected him to wear it, so he did.

Darby’s waitress, Charmaine, came by and handed him a menu. “Just one?” she asked, flicking her platinum blond hair, cut in an asymmetrical bob. Normally, asymmetrical anything set his teeth on edge, but Charmaine pulled it off.

“There will be four of us. Could I get a beer?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” she chirped. He watched as she sashayed away, enjoying the view. She was a honey, but she didn’t fool Ash for a minute. If he got out of line, she’d use one of those steak knives in the silverware packet to slice off his nuts. Most of the regulars knew better than to get out of line. A guy who smacked Charmaine on the ass might just find a pot of scalding coffee pooling in his lap.

A burst of commotion at the door caught his attention and he grimaced. His friend Richie staggered in, raising his arms and bellowing, “Ladies, the real men have arrived.” Silence settled on the bar as heads turned, but just as quickly as it had ceased, conversation resumed.

Apparently the ladies weren’t all that impressed with the “real men.”

Ash raised a hand motioning them over. He could tell right away Richie was drunk off his ass, and Devlin and Parker had been drinking too. He divined this when Parker nearly missed his seat and almost landed on the floor.

Great. It was going to be one of
those
weekends.

He motioned to Charmaine. When she made her way over to the table, he said, “Better get some food in these guys. Four burgers?”

“Bacon burgers,” Richie said, way too loud.

“Bacon cheese burgers.” Devlin added. Although he said this with a respectful smile in Charmaine’s direction. And even added, “Pretty please.” Devlin had known the pain of coffee-lap.

As she took the menus, she blew out a sigh and nodded. “Coming right up.”

“Don’t forget the fries,” Richie commanded through a hiccup. As if she would. She might spit on them, though. If he didn’t reel it in.

Richie, who’d been his friend since prep school, was kind of an ass and always had been. They’d been drinking buddies forever, so Ash tolerated his shit, but it was getting harder and harder. It seemed as though Ash, and Parker and Devlin for that matter, were growing up, while Richie remained locked in emotional puberty.

Parker and Devlin though? Solid. He was pretty lucky to have guys like them in his corner.

Drunk or not.

Parker stiffened at his side. “Oh shit,” he breathed. “There she is.”

Ash glanced up to see who
she
was and his heart stalled. Holy hell. An angel had just stepped into Darby’s. A beautiful girl with soft blonde curls and wide eyes. He couldn’t see the color from here, but it hardly mattered. She was a delightful package and a punch to his solar plexus.

“Oh, baby. She is fine. I talked her up on the ferry. ” Richie put out his chest.  “She wants me.”

Annoyance burned in Ash’s gut. Why, he didn’t know. She wasn’t
his
angel. She was simply an angel. If she wanted Richie, she could have him.

No more relationships for Ash. No more blind trust. No more expectations.

 “God, she’s so fucking hot.” Was Richie still talking? “I do dig a redhead,” he added.

Ash blinked. A redhead? He scanned the group of women who had entered with his angel, the group now heading over to Cam’s table—damn, he should have responded to that wave—and yes, there was a redhead. And a brunette with sixties-bangs and another girl with long jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’d hadn’t noticed any of them.

His attention skewed back to the blonde. She smiled at something Cam said and a hot, hard arousal shot through him like a jagged bolt of lightning. God. That smile.

He really should have responded to Cam’s wave.

At some point this weekend, he was going to have to meet that girl.

He’d sworn off relationships, but he sure as shit hadn’t sworn off fucking. And she looked like she’d be a wild ride.

“Okay. I could tap that.”

Ash blinked as someone voiced the words winging around in his head. He gaped at Devlin. Dev must be pretty drunk. He was usually a complete gentleman when it came to the ladies. “The redhead?”

“Whaa?” He didn’t seem to be able to complete the word. “No. The hottie with the ponytail.”

“I could so yank on that ponytail.” Was Richie drooling? Awesome. At least he remembered to wipe his lip on his sleeve.

Ash grimaced. He was definitely the “designated walker” tonight. He hated babysitting.

Devlin glared at Richie who was leering at the brunette. “Hey. Ponytail is mine. I called it.” He attempted to punch Richie on the shoulder but he missed and punched the chair instead. “Ow.”

It was all Ash could do not to roll his eyes. “No fighting boys.”

Parker grinned. “There are plenty of babes to go around.”

“But they’re all at the other table.” Richie leaned in and hissed, “We should go over there and steal them. Those two guys look like peckerwoods.”

Ash cleared his throat. “That’s Cam Jackson. And the big guy? The one with all the muscles? Holt Lamm.”

“Holt Lamm?” Richie squeaked. “Shit.”

“Who are they?” Devlin asked.

“They’re friends of Lane’s.”

Richie studied the table across the room. “Which one is the cunt who cleaned him out?”

Ash winced at the use of that word. Especially in reference to Lucy, Lane’s ex-wife. Who was a friend of his sister’s. His fingers tightened. He didn’t want to pound Richie into a pulp, but he would. He opened his mouth to respond, but Devlin beat him to it.

“Watch it McCleary.” Last names were a bad sign, and Devlin’s tone—lethal. Richie jerked to attention.

Parker frowned as well. “Lucy’s a nice girl. And their divorce was animac… aminaca… friendly. Besides. Lucy didn’t clean him out. She comes from money.”

Dev snorted. “Not as much money as Lane.”

“No one has as much money as Lane Daniels,” Richie sneered, and then they all looked at Ash. Because they knew it wasn’t true.

Ash didn’t respond. Sure, his family had a lot of money, but it wasn’t
his
money. He lived off an inheritance his grandfather had bequeathed to him. He’d never made a dime in his life. Besides, he could care less about the fucking money. The money was an albatross around his neck.  It made him a target. Attracted the worst kind of women.

He upended his beer.

“Still…” Richie leaned back so Charmaine could set his plate before him. He almost leaned too far and wobbled for balance. Once he recovered himself, he continued. “The bitch got a bundle in the divorce.” His gaze narrowed on Ash, who forced his features into a mask. He knew what was coming. “Like your bitch. Don’t tell me you
like
that she got a fat settlement?”

Bile rose in his throat. Ash unrolled his silverware and set his napkin in his lap. He arranged the knife and fork and spoon in an orderly array before him.

“Serves you right. Guys like you and Lane Daniels should never get married,” Richie continued, rocking back in his chair. “You should just pay for poontang. No messy divorce. No lawyers. No fuckin’ golden payday for a cunt.”

Ash couldn’t help it. His foot shot out and knocked the leg of Richie’s chair. The ass went sprawling back and landed on the floor with a thud. The other guys howled, but Ash did not.

The pain of his divorce was far too raw to have it bandied about in a bar. Jillian had used him. Seduced him, told him she fucking loved him, and then, once the “I dos” were said, the truth came out.

It was all about the money.

She’d said as much.

To his face.

Spat it, in fact.

It had been a shock. A complete shock. Because the viperous harpy he’d encountered in that honeymoon suite—after the marriage had been consummated, of course—had been diametrically opposed to the sweet, amiable woman he’d fallen for.

She’d played him all along.

And then laughed about it.

Laughed
.

He’d resolved, then and there, never to give anyone such power over him again. His heart had burned out that night, burned to a crisp. He doubted he would ever recover. His heart would not magically heal and rise like the Phoenix from the ashes. He was done.

“Are you okay?” Parker asked, and Ash realized he’d bent his fork nearly in half.

He dropped it on the table and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine.” But he wasn’t.

Because Ash Bristol, son of billionaire coffee magnate Adam Bristol and publishing heiress Mia Bristol-Finnerman-Cox, could never have the one thing he craved more than anything in the world.

A woman who loved him for himself.

It was stupid even to think about it.

So he didn’t. And he ignored the deep dark chasm inside of him.

Or tried to.

Chapter Two

Emily noticed
him
the minute she walked into the bar. In fact, she’d nearly tripped over the threshold because his beauty blinded her. It was silly to be so fanciful, but with his golden hair and muscles stretching his linen shirt, the lights behind forming a halo around him, he seemed like a God, stepped down from Olympus.

She’d never met a man who captured her interest like this. A man she could stare at until the end of time. But this guy did just that. There was something about him, something beyond his physical perfection, something that
spoke
to her.

She’d always had this fantasy that one day her Prince Charming
would waltz into her life and she would just
know
he was the one. But none of the men she’d ever met had even come close to her ideal. She’d never had
that
feeling. She’d never set eyes on a man and thought,
Yep. That’s him
.

Jamie joked she’d read too many fairy tales as a child, and Tara insisted it was too many romances, but Bella held there wasn’t much difference between the two fantasies. Kaitlin simply advised that she not hold out for a Prince.

Regardless of her friend’s advice, Emily was starting to doubt she could truly be interested in any man. At least, enough to risk being with him. In
that
way. Maybe she’d waited too long. Maybe, after what had happened, the fear, the walls were too great to breach.

That’s why, when she saw
him
, and her pulse thrummed and her soul sang, her reaction surprised her so much. His presence hit her on a visceral level. It took an effort to turn away.

But not before she noticed he was sitting with the douche from the boat.

Pity, that.

“Oh, there’s Cam.” Kaitlin waved and hooked her arm in Emily’s and they headed to the table in the center of the room where Kristi and Cam sat with Bella and Holt.

Emily’s gaze stalled. Was that Holt’s arm around Bella’s shoulders?

She shot her friend a googley look and Bella responded with a smug grin. Heavens.

She’d always suspected Bella had a thing for Holt, but Emily never expected
this
. Not the way they fought like cats and dogs. She shot a glance at Kaitlin and whispered, “Did you see this coming?”

Kaitlin’s only response was a small smile, but Emily could tell from her expression, she had, indeed, seen this coming.

Then again, Kaitlin saw just about everything coming.

They all took their seats and opened their menus and studied them diligently. And then, when Charmaine came by, ordered the same things they always ordered.

As they waited for their food, they chatted and got caught up. The biggest news was the two new couples that had formed within their long-standing group of friends. But no one mentioned that.

With the exception of Lane and Lucy, who had married in college and just recently divorced, none of the Dawgs, as they called themselves, had ever dated. Theirs had been a fierce camaraderie, formed in the dorms during an epic football season and enhanced when they all shared a house during their junior and senior years in college. There had been crushes and flirtations—even now, Drew was more than a little in love with Kaitlin—but no romantic hook ups had formed.

The guys in the group were like brothers. The girls like sisters.

So it was a bit awkward to see Cam and Kristi, and now Bella and Holt canoodling.

Then again, it was kind of sweet.

Kristi and Bella deserved to be happy.

And goodness, they looked happy.

Emily swallowed a lump of envy and focused her attention on her water glass, but found her gaze drifted with annoying regularity over to the table across the room. She let herself peek, every once in a while, just to memorize his features for her future fantasies. Because she’d never meet him. And if she did, she’d probably be far too intimidated to talk to him.

She didn’t have any trouble talking to men about her fundraising causes, and certainly had no trouble counseling the fathers of her students or talking to her male friends. But a man this attractive? The walls shot up, her armor bristled and her tongue became impossibly tied.

Exasperation bubbled in her belly. She longed to be a free spirit, like Bella or Tara, unfettered by fear, uninhibited, willing to take a risk. But she wasn’t.

Damn it. It had been years. She should be over it by now.

If only she could wave a magic wand. Become someone else, someone bold, intrepid, brave, for a while.