Fixing Ashley Read online

Page 7


  Eliza and Mitchel have a couple of little ones now, Riley and Jace, which made Laurie and Ashley instant aunties. You know, that whole incestuous thing Ashley and Laurie teased me about, they’ve both jumped into it feet first and have never looked back. I can hardly remember what life was like before any of this happened, but I’ve never regretted one thing.

  Oh yeah, and I will never forget how Laurie and Brad got married within a few months of dating each other. They eloped, around the same time Ashley and I decided we were moving in together.

  Seems the Evans sisters are both a little impulsive. Hell, Brad calls them crazy. Not to their faces, of course. Ashley would have my balls if she heard him, and well, I’d like to keep those attached to my body, thank you very much.

  Besides, she owns them already, just, you know, the figurative kind of ownership...where they stay attached to me. Which is kind of ironic, since before I met her, nobody had owned any part of me.

  Lighting a cig, I inhale deeply, letting the smoke permeate my lungs, while I mentally calculate if I’ve got all the supplies I’ll need gathered around me.

  Four by fours, two by fours, hooks, screws, a big oak tree, a plastic slide, one by sixes, two swings...yup, all we need now is the little one.

  And that’ll be soon; after he cooks for a few more months.

  I’m enjoying this cigarette, letting the plume of smoke escape my lips slowly, savoring the burn in my lungs and the sensation it brings me.

  After all, I only have a few more months before I quit that shit.

  I made that promise to my fiancée and mother of my child, and I plan on keeping it this time. When she told me she was pregnant, I promised I would quit.

  I’ve never broken a promise I made to Ashley, except about smoking, but I’m definitely not going to break this one. With a baby on the way, I can’t fail this time. Besides, I want to be around for as long as possible. If quitting smoking will do that, then I’ll give it a try.

  Ashley once confessed the only reason she was on my ass about my smoking was because she enjoyed watching me too much when I did. She thought it was sexy, watching my lips wrap around the little filter as I inhaled, or watching them pucker as I exhaled. After that confession, there was no way I was quitting any time soon. But now, now I will. I have to. Sexy or not, my kid comes first.

  Hearing her admission was one of those times where I wanted to call her crazy, but didn’t. Instead, I took her from behind...in the kitchen...over the counter...as she looked outside. Hopefully that kind of thing will still happen after we have kids. I don’t know. According to Mitchel, it gets even better. Time will tell. Either that or I’ll pick up smoking those fake electronic cigarettes once in a while; just to see what Ashley thinks of my lips wrapped around one of those.

  Yup, totally gonna happen, I swear.

  Ashley was—is—an enigma. I’m still learning things about her. That woman is definitely not predictable. She keeps me on my toes, which is probably why I fell in love with her in the first place.

  The only thing I can predict about her is the long list of Post-it notes that adorn her desk. It’s like an inside joke for us. Fuck, I even buy her those damn things in bulk for Christmas.

  Don’t laugh; she loves that shit.

  Now, though,I need to figure out how to put this thing together. These plans of hers—her vision. A slide connecting to a treehouse with a couple swings. It’s nice, and the way she has it laid out, any kid would have fun playing on it.

  And we’re planning on more kids after this one.

  I love it when my nephews visit and I can’t wait till our little one adds to the group.

  Laying out the beams, I look over to the house and spot the large window. We’ll be able to watch the kids play. This is unbelievably perfect. Like the rest of the house, Ashley’s design fits. She thought this up; all I’m doing is building it.

  I spend a few hours outside in the mid-July sun cutting and assembling pieces of wood. Alone in my thoughts, with nothing but tools and my pack of smokes. My last one, by the way. Oh, I’ve mentioned this? Right, seems I’m having a hard time believing I won’t be a smoker anymore.

  Anyway, I make good headway attaching a structure to the large oak tree in the middle of the yard. It’s hard work, trees aren’t perfect, they’re not straight, but in the end once everything is pulled together, it’ll be awesome. This headache is definitely worth it.

  “What are you doing out here?” Ashley’s voice breaks me out of my concentration and I look up, meeting her surprised expression.

  Smiling, I saunter over to her and rest my hands over her swollen belly. “I found these sketches and thought I’d surprise you.” Feeling the baby kick against my hand, I smile and add, “Apparently this little guy likes it.”

  Ashley’s not speaking, and given our history, this is not good. “Ashley?”

  “I’ll marry you.” She nods, her eyes surveying what I’ve been working on all day, as a tear rolls down her cheek.

  “What?” Narrowing my eyes, I lower my gaze and shift to look her in the eye. “Really?”

  “Ask me again. I’ll say yes, Devon. You’re so... I’ll say yes.” She nods in emphasis, her eyes wide and full of happy tears.

  Not in a million years did I think doing this would get me what I’ve been wanting. Had I known, I would have built this sooner, dammit. Then again, she only finalized the sketches a few weeks ago. I need a time machine.

  I huff. “What is it with you, Ms. Evans? I always have to ask twice, huh?” My tone is playful, and while I say this, I take her hand in mine and get down on one knee. “Ashley Evans, would you finally do me the honor of being my wife?”

  She throws herself in my arms and hugs me. “Yes, yes, yes.” She’s giggling and kissing me and holding on to me as though I’ll never let her go. And I won’t.

  And that’s when I know I’ve done it. I’ve worked hard. We’ve worked together.

  It took a while.

  But I fixed Ashley.

  THE END