Murphy's Law (8 page)

“What about it?”

“May picked it out. I didn't. The thing is, it's made for someone like her, not someone like me.”

After indulging a few odd conversations with her, he finally felt qualified to decipher her meanings. “For someone with a larger bust?”

“Yeah. It sort of goes along with her wedding gown. But it looks pretty lame on me.”

“I'm sure you'll be beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are
so
doomed for disappointment if you believe that. I just wanted to warn you.” She started to head out of his office.

“Ashley?”

“Hmmm?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

“If you really dislike the dress so much, why didn't you just tell May?”

“Because she loved the design, and I didn't want to disappoint her.”

“You say she's a good friend, so I'm sure she would have understood.”

Ashley stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged. “One time, I think it was eighth grade, a class bully kept ridiculing me. He called me Patches, and Pigpen, and no matter how I tried to ignore him, he wouldn't stop. I was close to losing it. I mean, I was this close”—she held up a finger and thumb, a half inch apart—“to crying. And I'd have rather died than cry in front of him.”

Something clenched in Quinton's chest, causing a pain he'd never felt before. Ashley was so brash, so seemingly confident in all situations, that he hated to think of her as a young needy girl, tormented by a bully.

“I hope you kicked him in the crotch.”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. I didn't even need to. May jumped him.”

“She chewed him out?”

“No, I mean she literally leaped onto his back like a monkey. She knotted her hands in his hair and damn near yanked him bald. They both fell to the ground and he got a broken wrist. By the time the teacher pulled May off him, he was the one in tears.”

Quinton saw so much emotion in her eyes. He hadn't yet met May, but he already liked her. A lot. “I'm glad she showed him the error of his ways.”

“Yeah. May did that a lot, came to my defense and protected me, until I toughened up enough to defend myself. It was funny when she did it, because May has always been a very proper woman. She never curses or causes a scene. But for me, she'd do whatever it took. She's the most loyal person I know. I'd end up laughing, and she'd start laughing, and I've loved her
more
than a sister ever since.”

And so she'd wear a dress she didn't like, a dress that made her uncomfortable, because in some small way, May had saved her back then. “I see.”

“I figured you would.” She shook off the excess sentiment and returned to her old self. “So no ogling me in the damn dress, and if you dare to laugh, I'll brain you.”

“A warning I'll take to heart, I promise.” Where Ashley was concerned, he took everything to heart. From that first time of meeting her, her impact was like the kick of a mule—always in his heart.

“Good.” She gave a sharp nod. “Now get a move on. I need you to go home so I can get back to work without you bothering me.”

Pleased that he
could
bother her, Quinton smiled. “All right.” He picked up the papers he needed from his desk, turned out the lights, and followed Ashley out the door.

She walked him to the elevator and waited beside him until the doors opened and he'd stepped inside. Catching his tie, she pulled him down and gave him a sweet kiss. “Bye.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I'm looking forward to tomorrow.”

She stepped out of the elevator. “Quinton, just so you know. I think I changed my mind.”

Alarms bells rang out in his head. “About what?”

As the doors started to close, she tipped her head and smiled. “About waiting. I think the sooner we resolve these crazy sexual urges, the sooner I'll be able to regain some sanity.”

“You mean—”

“Yeah. Let's go to your place after the reception. My place is the pits.”

The doors shut before he could say anything more. He yanked out his cell phone, but in the elevator he didn't have any reception. When he finally reached the parking level, he dialed again, and Ashley answered on the first ring.

“If you get me fired—”

“That was mean-spirited timing. I hope you know I won't be able to sleep tonight.”

“Good. Neither will I.”

“But you'll be working.”

“And thinking of you.” She gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “You know, Murphy, I really hope you're worth all this trouble.”

She hung up on him, and Quinton started laughing. A man of lesser ego would feel pressured by her expectations on performance, but he had enough experience to know they'd be good together. He just needed to get her over the hang-up on her breasts—which he thought were perfect.

Thinking of her and the coming wedding, reception, and following night, he smiled all through the parking lot—until he reached his Porsche. He must have run over broken glass and not realized it because both tires on the driver's side were flat. But deflated tires couldn't ruin his good mood.

Settling against the fender, he called for a cab. In the morning he'd have the car repaired. He could have gone back inside, but he truly didn't want to interfere with Ashley's work. He'd have her to himself soon enough.

With that in mind, a few flat tires were nothing more than a mere inconvenience.

 

Ashley paced her living room, alternately stewing and anxiously checking her watch. When the doorbell finally rang, she leaped forward and yanked the door open.

Quinton stood there in a very fine dark suit and tie with a snowy white shirt. Ashley looked him over, struck by how his presence made her feel as if the sun shone down on her head. She grabbed him around the neck, pulled him down, and kissed him silly. It was a ticklish kiss because Quinton kept smiling. His big hands settled on her waist and he lifted her enough that he could walk them both through the doorway.

She heard the door click shut, felt her back press against the wall, and Quinton had both hands on her bottom, lifting her up so that she just naturally wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Jesus, honey…” Groaning, he put his forehead to hers; then, as if he couldn't help himself, he took her mouth again. His tongue slid in, tasting her deeply, caressing her. He readjusted for the best fit, kissing her once again, before whispering around a ragged breath, “This is nuts.”

“I know.” She wanted to go on kissing him, but Quinton put his chin to the top of her head.

“You're not dressed, Ashley.”

His throat looked so appealing that she took a small taste of him—and wanted more. “I'm supposed to do all that at Jude's.” She tightened her legs and nipped at his chin. “He's got a whole blasted staff waiting to work me over and make me presentable.”

“Staff?” Quinton tilted her back to see her face.

“Yeah. Make-up artist, hair stylist, manicurist, and so on and so on.” She wrinkled her nose. “That's why I'm scrubbed clean with no makeup. I don't think Jude and May trusted me to do it right.”

“No, I'm sure that's not it. You always look lovely. More likely, it's a treat, a way to thank you for taking part in their special day. It's not uncommon for the females in a wedding party.”

Impressed, Ashley asked, “Do you just know everything about everything?”

“I don't know enough about you.” Without straining, he balanced her against him with one hand curved under her bottom, and with the other, he smoothed her hair. “Will your parents be at the wedding? I'd like to meet them.”

How naïve. She shook her head and said, “I don't have parents.”

He gave her an indulgent look. “Nature decrees otherwise.”

“Maybe once long ago I did. But I divorced myself from mine, remember? Far as I'm concerned, they've ceased to exist.”

He appeared troubled by her sentiments, so she teased him, saying, “Besides, you wouldn't want to meet them. Trust me on this. Meeting May's parents will be enough of a trial.”

“Why? What's wrong with her parents?”

Using one finger, she made a loop-de-loop in the air. “They're insane. Not just a little goofy, but full-blown nuts. May's brother, Tim, is their golden child, the heir apparent who can do no wrong, regardless of the fact he's a weasel. Her mom's a mean, depressed drunk and a chain smoker. Her dad's a sleaze and a habitual cheater. And May is keeper of the loony bin, the one they all rely on to make sure they don't destroy themselves.”

“Was she poor, like you?”

“No way. May's family owns a car dealership and they've always managed to stay afloat, despite a lot of extravagances, mostly thanks to May.” Ashley ran her palm along his jaw. He'd shaved recently and his skin was smooth and warm. “Did I tell you that May owns an art gallery? That's how she and Jude met. They share a love for art. After their honeymoon, they're going to do some major traveling around the world, promoting the SBC now that Jude's bought into it as more than a fighter. May hopes to make some contacts with other artists and maybe pick up a few new pieces.”

He put a tiny peck to the bridge of her nose. “You have very fascinating friends.”

“Yeah. I'm going to miss them. But Denny will still be around. And speaking of Denny…Which of you ordered Flint to escort me to my car when I finished my shift?”

Rather than answer, Quinton softly kissed her cheekbone, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip before nibbling, and finally pressed his mouth firmly against hers.

As usual, Ashley melted. He tasted good and smelled even better and the careful, loving way he touched her made her stomach flutter.

“I did.”

The soft admission broke the sensual spell. “Hey, you can't—” His mouth closed over hers again, smothering her rebuke. It was a rotten, macho-inspired tactic, and still she allowed herself to relax in his arms. She even went so far as to kiss him back.

But the second he lifted his head, she said, “Don't try to take over my life, Quinton. I mean it.”

“I want you safe.”

“And you think I don't?”

That bemused him. “I don't know. I didn't mean—”

“Let me tell you something. Elton Pascal is a certifiable maniac. A murderer, a villain, a conscienceless bastard. He's not only killed people, he beat May's brother to a pulp. And he threatened to get May and anyone else important to Jude. Trust me, I want nothing to do with him.” Except that she did want to see him behind bars, where he couldn't further threaten May or the family May loved so much.

“Glad to hear it, but I didn't mean—”

“Did you know that he fancied himself in love with the woman he murdered? But the poor girl was infatuated with Jude, so Elton blew her up, along with Jude's driver, and deliberately framed Jude. When Jude managed a ‘not guilty' verdict, Elton started dogging him, doing everything he could to make Jude miserable. That's how he ended up in Ohio. He pegged Tim for a pawn right away.”

“I suppose he knew Tim was May's brother?”

“Yeah, and even though May didn't realize it, everyone else knew Jude wanted her. Elton made it easy for Tim to borrow fifty thousand dollars from him.”

Quinton whistled.

“Right. And when Tim couldn't pay it back, Elton gave him the option of killing Jude for him, to even the debt.”

“Jesus.” Quinton looked more alarmed than ever. “Tim agreed to that?”

She shrugged. “It took a sound beating to motivate Tim to Elton's way of thinking.” It amazed Ashley that Quinton made no move to set her down. He held her as if she weighed nothing, as if he enjoyed chatting with her in just such a position. “But Elton hadn't counted on the fact that Tim would go crying straight to May.”

“Because Tim expects May to fix all his problems?”

“Yep. And May, not being a dummy, went straight to Jude.”

Quinton broke into a grin. “I can only imagine how Jamison took it.”

“I think he used it as an opportunity to get closer to May.”

“That's what I would have done. But he would have wanted to protect her anyway.”

“Of course.”

“The way I want to protect you.”

“You just ran that one full circle, didn't you?” He gave her an unashamed grin—which Ashley returned. “Well, genius, so did I. You see, I saw Elton's handiwork firsthand after he'd pulverized Tim. Trust me, I'm aware of just how ruthless he can be, which is why I went to Flint to ask him to walk me out.”

“You did?”

“I keep telling you I'm not a dummy. I figured as night guard, Flint might as well earn his pay. But that's when he told me he was going to see me to my car anyway. He just wouldn't say why, or who put him up to it.”