Murphy's Law (22 page)

“We won't stay long,” Denny told Quinton, but anything more than a few minutes would probably guarantee a lost opportunity for intimacy. She absolutely would not run the risk of being late to class.

Ashley tipped her head back, saw the banked anticipation in Quinton's eyes, and said, “Maybe you should let go of my behind?”

“Right.” His fingers flexed—then opened and he lifted them away, holding them in the air as if at gunpoint. “Sorry about that.”

She patted his chest. “Want some coffee?”

Under his breath, he muttered, “Of course. Coffee. That's exactly what I wanted.”

Snickering at his woebegone air, Ashley slid out of his arms and escaped to her tiny kitchen to fetch another mug. When she returned, Denny had sprawled onto the couch too, while Quinton roamed the room, touching her furniture, peeking out her one window, and looking at her photos, books, and the scattered notes on her desk.

Her tiny apartment had to be as shocking to him as his mansion was to her. She could fit her entire living space into one of his rooms. Other than the living room, she had a standing-room-only kitchen, closet-sized bath, and a bedroom just big enough for her full-sized mattress and tall dresser.

To her, the apartment represented a stepping-stone to her end goals.

To Quinton, it probably represented poverty.

Mouth quirked, Ashley poured his coffee and carried it to him. “So what do you think?”

To her surprise, he said, “This is nice.”

“Nice?” She did another quick look around the place and saw crowded spaces, used furniture, and an overabundance of study materials.

Quinton touched her cheek. “Very nice. I see you everywhere.”

She would never understand him. “Meaning?”

He lifted one butter yellow curtain panel. “It's tidy but colorful.” His fingers trailed along the surface of her wooden desk. “Utilitarian and efficient, but feminine. You have your computer set up to be the focal point because you're serious about your studies.” He smiled at her. “Everything is organized, but still very comfortable.”

“Like me?” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I don't know that I like being compared to well-worn, rehabbed furniture.”

“Your furniture is cozy and inviting. And like you, an eclectic mix of colors.”

She glanced at the sofa where Denny and Tim sat. She'd covered it in striped material and tossed around some plump pillows in a mix of florals, checks, and prints.

“I do most of my required reading on the couch,” she explained. “If I read in bed, I'd fall asleep.”

Quinton picked up a silver framed photo that she kept beside her computer. “This is you, isn't it?”

“And May.” As always, the picture gave her the warm fuzzies. “I was sixteen when that was taken. May was eighteen. She had a copy framed for me when I moved away from my folks.”

Quinton ran his thumb along the engraved script at the bottom of the frame. “Sister of my heart.”

Ashley's smile came easily. “Yeah.” Her next breath trembled, but damn it, some secrets were getting harder and harder to keep. “The only photos I have are the ones May took or copied for me. I'm not sure we even had a camera when I was a kid.”

“No school portraits?”

“Nope. But May always shared her yearbooks with me, so it didn't matter.” Shaking off the poignant memories and niggling guilt, she set the photo down on a file folder and tried to coax Quinton away from her workspace.

But he'd already given his attention to the magazine pages tacked to the corkboard behind her desk. He lifted the first ad for curtains, then the garden shot of spring flowers around a bird bath. He flipped through several more with interest. “What are these for?”

“Nothing.” Damn, why hadn't she remembered to remove them? “Just ideas.”

Denny and Tim twisted on the couch to see. “Ideas for what?” Tim asked.

Heat tinged her cheeks, but she refused to admit to any embarrassment. “For my house.” She rolled her eyes. “When I get a house, I mean.”

“Really?” Curiosity brought Denny off the couch and around to the desk. He studied a kitchen makeover that had appealed to her.

Tim, too, sauntered over. “I wanna see.”

Another glance at the clock showed her time with Quinton slipping away. “All right, I'll show you. But there better not be any jokes.” She pulled the tack out of the stack of ads and articles and carried them to the couch.

The men all settled back on the couch, so she seated herself on the coffee table beside the tray, facing them. She passed Quinton the first photo of a small cottage.

“This is what my dream house would look like. It's not exact, but it is the right size. Small and neat and homey.” With a glance at first Denny and then Quinton, she said, “No offense, but those hotels you guys live in would make me feel lost.”

“It's a fine-looking house,” Denny announced. “You have good taste.”

Tim took the page from him. “I like it. The porch is nice.”

Ashley stared at them in amazement. They didn't tease her. They didn't tell her how unattainable her dreams were. In fact, all three looked really interested, especially Quinton.

Something unfurled inside her. “I want a porch swing,” she explained to Tim. “I can just imagine sitting out there at night and looking at the stars.”

Quinton lifted the photo of a midsized bedroom. The colorful quilt on the bed had drawn her eye first, but she also loved the light oak color of the furniture and the rag rugs on the floor.

“I'd put a vase of flowers here,” she said, pointing to the top of the dresser. “And maybe a hanging plant in that corner.”

For several minutes they looked over her photos and discussed options, the pros and cons of her preferences, and price brackets, and Ashley enjoyed every second of it.

Other than May, she'd never shared her ideas of the perfect little dream house. Since she'd lived in the apartment, no one but May had ever visited her. Definitely, no men had ever been inside.

Now she had three big males scrunched together on her couch, oozing testosterone into her air and sharing her dreams of the future.

She couldn't stifle a laugh.

Quinton tilted his head at her. “What's funny?”

“You three. This situation. I think my entire world has gone topsy-turvy.”

He reached for her hand. “I have no doubt that you'll one day have your house.”

His confidence warmed her. “You think?”

“I know.”

“And when you do,” Tim told her, “we can have a housewarming party and we'll bring you gifts.” He looked at the other two. “That's what family does, right?”

Denny's elbow shot into Tim's ribs, and Tim stuttered, “I mean, you know, I want to be the one to buy you the porch swing. That's all.” He blinded her with a winning smile.

“
Okaaaay
.” Ashley had to wonder what had gotten into him lately. He'd gone from flirting with her shamelessly to treating her like a best friend. Or maybe a kid sister. Weird. Had Denny's influence brought about the drastic change? “Thanks, Tim. That'd be really nice.”

Hopeful of salvaging a little time with Quinton, she rose from the table and returned her pictures to the corkboard behind her desk. No way did she want to offend either of them, so she tried for a little diplomacy.

“You know, it was nice of you guys to drop in, but—”

Her phone rang.

Everyone froze.

Quinton and Denny shot off the couch at the same time, almost tripping over each other in their efforts to get to her desk where the phone sat.

Ashley beat them to it. With her hand pressed to the top of the receiver, she halted them with a glare. “Knock. It. Off.”

“It could be Elton,” Denny insisted.

“I haven't heard from him in over a week,” she said.

“That doesn't mean—”

“He's
never
called me on my landline. It's unlisted. And besides, no one has even spotted his car lately. I think he might have finally wised up and hightailed it away from here.”

“I'll make no assumptions,” Quinton told her.

Ashley rolled her eyes. “I realize you guys consider me a social outcast, but I do get the occasional phone call, so stop overreacting.”

“Pick it up,” Quinton told her, “and if it is that bastard, hand it to me.”

And he'd do
what?
Ashley wondered.

“No,” Denny said, rubbing his hands together. “Let
me
talk to him.”

Seeing another debate about to start, Ashley turned her back on both men and snatched up the phone on the sixth ring, right before her answering machine would have picked up. “Hello?”

“I was just about to hang up. Did I wake you?”

“May.”
Ashley sent a smug look at all three men, who turned mute at having a potential crisis aborted. Then her gaze went to the photo they'd been admiring, and she sighed. Eventually, she and May would have to talk about some things. But not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

May had enough family to drive her crazy. Ashley refused to add to her burden.

“Of course I'm up,” Ashley told her. “But even if I hadn't been, I'd be happy to get your call. How are you? How's that hunky husband of yours? And how's Japan?”

“Jude and I are wonderful, and as to Japan…who knows? Other than a few business meetings and one art expedition, we've barely left the suite.”

May sounded dreamy and very much in love. Ashley grinned. “So it's nonstop sex, huh?”

The words had no sooner left her mouth than she glanced at the men. Denny and Quinton had rejoined Tim on the couch. They all shifted in appalled discomfort. Apparently, they weren't used to hearing women discuss sex. They blinked at each other, then focused on Ashley with undivided attentiveness.

Unaware that Ashley had an engaged audience, May laughed. “Jude is tireless. And speaking of sex…”

“Were we?”

“How are things going with Quinton?”

“Well…”

“No hedging, Ash! I want to hear all the juicy details. Come on, spill it.”

Because they looked like the three stooges poised to break into an act, Ashley peered at each man in turn and said, “The sex is great, but sporadic. See, I finally had a little free time this morning to be with Quinton, and as luck would have it, Denny and Tim decided to grace me with a visit.”

Quinton choked, Tim went red, and Denny roared with laughter.

Shocked, May whispered, “Ashley!” And she laughed as hard as Denny. “They really are in your apartment, because I can hear them in the background! You are so bad to tease Denny like that.”

Staring at Denny with wry humor, Ashley asked, “Who's teasing?”

Denny rose from the couch, then hauled Tim up, too. “I think that's our cue to leave.”

Ashley waved them back to their seats. “I have to head out in just a few minutes, myself, so forget it. You may as well stay.”

Denny shrugged toward Quinton. “You should have said something.”

Gaze centered on Ashley, Quinton said, “Next time I will.”

May laughed again. “Their timing might not be the best, but I'm glad you have company.”

“Yeah, me, too. It's not what I'm used to, but it's nice. Especially with you out of town.”

Going solemn, May whispered, “I miss you a lot.”

“Same here.” And she really meant it. So many things had changed lately, and it didn't seem right not to have May there, sharing it with her.

“I know you can't really talk with the guys all listening in, but I'll be home soon, and when I get there, I want to hear everything.”

Ashley smiled. “I'll start taking notes so I don't forget anything.”

Grinning ear to ear, Denny and Tim leaned around to look at Quinton. He tossed up his hands and flopped back on the couch, but he was laughing, too.

“Yes, you do that. And while you have a pencil in your hand…” May drew a deep breath. “Jot us down for Thanksgiving.”

“May…”

“Come on, Ashley. Please. It's different this year. It won't just be my folks, it'll be Jude and Denny, too, and I want you there.”

Ashley had expected the invitation. At every holiday, May wanted her to join her family, but Ashley always made an excuse to miss it. For more reasons than May knew, Ashley found it painful to be around them all. Crazy as her family could be, they treated her as an extended family member, when she knew she'd never be any such thing.

Without thinking it through, going on gut reaction, she gave May her most legitimate excuse. “I would love to, hon. But this year I'll be with Quinton and the boys.”

Quinton shot to the edge of the couch cushion, his expression daunting.

“Boys?” May asked, “What boys?”

Uh-oh. Ashley nearly groaned over her big mouth. She shouldn't have said that, definitely not with Denny and Tim listening in. May could keep a secret with the best of them, but now everyone knew.

Quinton didn't appear happy with the disclosure, but as usual, she couldn't read his expression well enough to know if she'd truly angered him.

“Ashley?” May persisted. “What boys?”

She mouthed a silent apology to Quinton and, keeping the tale as simplified as possible, said, “He sponsors some underprivileged kids. They don't have much in the way of family, so Quinton promised them a big fancy Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. He invited me to join them, and I said yes.”

“How wonderful! I love the idea. In fact…Hang on, okay?” A muffled noise came through the phone while May spoke with Jude. Good grief. In no time at all, the whole world would know about his generosity.

Covering the phone with one hand, Ashley said, “Quinton, I—” But what could she say?

He lifted a brow at her, but when Denny turned to him to get the details, he sighed his surrender and spilled his guts.

May came back on the line with barely banked excitement. “Jude wants to help, too. He said to tell Quinton he'll get with him when he gets home.”

Oh, boy. Quinton was not going to like the added involvement of others. “I'll tell him.”

“I better go now. Love ya, Ashley. I'll call you as soon as we get in.”

“Love you, too. Have a safe trip home.”

She hung up in time to hear Denny say, “Maybe Tim and I could put on an exhibition for the boys. You know, nothing too bloody—”

Tim muttered, “Thank God.”

“But just to show them some moves. It's a good way to expend energy, and you know, I've trained plenty of guys who had a rough childhood. They love the discipline of the sport, the camaraderie.”

After giving it some thought, Quinton nodded. “A few of the older boys are carrying around a lot of resentment. It worries me.”

“Exactly.” Excited by the prospect of getting involved, Denny further ingratiated himself. “There's no better way to shed the rage than on a heavyweight bag. I'll even donate the bag and some other gear. What do you think?”

Quinton eyed him, then, to Ashley's surprise, shook Denny's hand. “That'd be great. Thank you.”

Tim all but burst with excitement. “An exhibition? I'll be in an exhibition?”

“Your first,” Denny told him, “so we better get back out there and work on your stamina. I don't want you to shame yourself.”

Grinning ear to ear, Tim grabbed Ashley up, swung her in a circle, plopped her back on her feet and then headed for the door.

“Good grief!” Watching Tim in amazement, Ashley dusted herself off.

“He's coming around,” Denny told her, and he gave her a more sedate peck on the cheek. “Sorry we threw off your plans.”

“I enjoyed it,” she promised him. “But next time, maybe you could—”

“I'll call first.” He winked, clapped Quinton on the shoulder, and took off after Tim.

Quinton shut the door behind them and turned the lock. “Alone at last,” he said as he drew her back into his arms. “Do you really have to leave right now?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She bit the side of her mouth. “I sort of thought you'd follow them out the door. I wouldn't really blame you if you were mad at me.”

He clasped his hands at the small of her back. “You mean because you told the whole world something I'd managed to keep secret so long?”

Guilt made her grimace. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let the cat out the bag. It just sort of came out without my permission. You know I love May, and even Tim is starting to grow on me. But I get hives when I have to be around Olympia and Stuart, and it's for certain that for any holiday function, May's parents will be there—”

To hush her ramblings, Quinton pressed a firm kiss to her mouth. “It's all right, honey. The boys will be thrilled to know Denny, and I can't even imagine their reactions to meeting the famous Jude Jamison. This'll be fun for them. I should have thought of it myself.”

“Really?” His attitude floored her. How could he possibly be so generous and wonderful? “You're not upset with me?”

“I'm not upset.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Hell, I'm not sure why I was still keeping it secret anyway.”

She glanced at the photo on her desk. “It was private to you. I understand that. Some things are just better kept secret.”

That threw him. For the longest time he stared down at her, his expression so probing, Ashley looked away. He used the edge of a fist to nudge her face back up again.

“Ashley?”

She frowned at him.

“What secrets do you have?”

She tried to joke that off. “If I told you, they wouldn't be secret any longer, would they?”

His annoyance was palpable. “I thought we were beyond this.”

Ashley put her arms around him and tucked her head under his chin. “Don't get all surly. It's not just my secret, but someone else's, too.”

“Someone you care about?”

“Yes.”

“Someone you love?”

She nodded.

“One day you'll tell me.”

Because she also loved him, Ashley smiled at the arrogant statement. “Yeah, probably.” To change the subject, she kissed his throat and whispered, “I was so looking forward to being with you again.”

Quinton crushed her close for a moment. “Me, too, honey.”

“You know…” She looked up at Quinton, saw the restrained lust in his expression, along with a good dose of tenderness and regret, and her plans got tossed out the window. “I can spare a few hours tonight if you and the boys don't mind company.”

He held her back the length of his arms. “What time?”

“I don't need to work at the restaurant tonight.” She had thought to use that time to finish a paper and study for the next exam, especially since she hadn't studied this morning. But at that moment nothing seemed more important than being with Quinton. “My last class ends at three.”

He treated her to a kiss that set her insides all aflutter and had her almost ready to skip class after all.

Against her lips, he whispered, “I'll pick you up.”

“
Ooooh
,” she teased. “In the Bentley?”

His smile was lazy and warm. “Of course. And this time you'll be the driver.”

 

Ashley smiled as she steered the luxury car down the street toward Quinton's driveway. The day had been more wonderful than she'd ever imagined. The kids were, without a doubt, a handful. Loud and boisterous, but also loving and hilarious. They'd ordered in pizza, watched a video, and shot baskets in the yard of the special housing where they currently resided.

Quinton had top-notch people supervising the boys throughout the day and tending to their needs. They were well schooled, cared for, comfortable, and safe.

But they went bananas when Quinton showed up.

Quinton's home was on the way to hers, so he'd asked her to stop there. She had an hour before she had to be at work, and she couldn't resist the chance to be alone with him, even for a short time.

“Stop here at the end of the driveway. I need to check the mail before we go in.”

“Okay.” She pulled the Bentley up close to the tall brick and stone masonry structure that housed his mailbox. A duplicate structure sat on the other side of the drive, only without the mailbox inside. In a tall dome shape and surrounded by flourishing greenery and fall flowers, they added a showy touch to the entrance of the drive. It struck Ashley funny that even Quinton's mailbox seemed fancier than her home.

Quinton unhooked his seat belt, rolled down the window, and reached out far enough to loop a finger into the decorative fixture on the front of the box. He started to pull it open—and Ashley noticed the trampled plants around the base. She frowned, certain the mailman would have no need to walk on the landscaping.

Why then…

Everything clicked into place in a single heartbeat.

“No!”
Ashley yanked Quinton back, but she wasn't fast enough.

The mailbox exploded with an ear-shattering boom, sending out a spray of hardened projectiles. The windshield cracked in several places, and debris shot in through the open passenger-door window. Ashley felt a stinging burn on the side of her neck and face. Fire flickered from inside the box, filling the air with swirling black smoke.

Because of the blast and the way she'd jerked him back, Quinton lost his balance. He landed half on Ashley, crushing her into the driver's door.

Cursing, blood running down his face, he struggled to sit up. Ashley frantically threw the car into park.

Quinton shoved himself upright, and she moaned as a throbbing pain raced through her left arm.

“Ashley!” Twisting toward her, Quinton looked her over, smoothing her hair back. “Oh, Jesus. Ashley, honey, are you all right?”