MISCHA LIKED THOSE moments where he found the right rhythm with Ash. Where the conversation was fluid and she seemed to step out from behind self-imposed restraints. The glimpses he saw of her were alluring, and left him wanting to know more.

The drive up the canyon was like that. He wanted to hold onto that. If she opened up a little more in the process, he could discover what lay underneath the Ash she showed the world.

He kissed her on the cheek. “Wait in the foyer. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” She gripped his fingers, keeping him from leaving.

“We’ll get our food to go.”

“It’s a five star restaurant, not McDonalds.”

He brushed his fingers over her knuckles, then pulled from her grasp. “I know the sous chef. It won’t be the same as eating here, but that’s probably a good thing.”

It took him a little bargaining, and a promise to help Carl move in a few weeks, but Mischa got him to make up a basket with salad, potatoes, and filet mignon.

He returned to find Ash seated, legs tucked to the side, looking both innocent and alluring with her skirt sliding up her thighs.

“Shall we?” He held out his hand. The way hers fit against his was comfortable and right.

A moment later they were back on the road. He drove up the mountain instead of down.

“Freeway’s the other direction,” Ash said.

“It’s prettier up here.” It wasn’t a long drive. He wound along a back path, over packed dirt that was impossible to navigate in the winter, and to the center of a patch of trees. When he parked and shut off the engine, the only light came from the sky. Fortunately, it was clear and a brilliant three-quarter moon.

He hopped from the SUV and hurried to Ash’s side, to open her door and offer her a hand down. “I thought this might be a better atmosphere, more private, than the lodge.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Her gaze was fixed on the sky. “I always forget how many stars you can see away from all the light pollution.” That barrier was evaporating, and her posture was relaxing.

“Dinner?” He pulled a blanket from the back of his SUV, and spread it out on the ground, then laid out the food.

She took a seat. “I don’t think—no, I’m pretty sure—I’ve never been to such a fancy picnic. Or a nighttime one. You’re treating me to all sorts of firsts.” The moonlight was enough to reveal the pink that dotted her cheeks.

“I look forward to more.” He tipped a can of soda to the one she held, in a toast. “You come from money?” he asked as they started to eat.

“What gave me away?”

Mischa didn’t understand why he was compelled to learn more about her. To dig deeper. To uncover what she hid. The engagement would work either way, as long as she was okay with playing along—and she seemed to be. He wanted something more, though. “You’re familiar with the restaurant. Maybe that was a one-time thing, but I get the impression you’ve been there a few times.”

“More than I care to remember.”

“And the way you held yourself at lunch.” It was hard to describe, but he’d learned as a teenager there was a difference between dining out with his parents versus Tristan’s.

He was concerned she’d close off. However, despite the faint lines of tension on her face, a faint smile danced on her lips. “We were well-trained children, and behaving at dinner was a requirement after we lost Mom.”

He wanted to ask what happened, but her whisper of a frown said he should hold that question out at least a little longer. “That sounds stifling.” He hid a wince. That probably wasn’t much better.

She let out a tiny laugh. “It was. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to be more impulsive than structured.”

“One of the many things I adore about you.”

“What about you? Money as a kid or no?”

“No. And yes.”

She looked amused. “There’s got to be a story there.”

“Yes. And no,” he teased. “My parents worked hard, but we didn’t have money. But Tristan’s family all-but adopted me, and they do.”

“Were you close? You and your folks?”

He could brush the question off with a simple sure, but he didn’t like hiding things from her. At least this bit of his past wasn’t quite as severe as what he shared earlier. “Sort of? I wish we’d been closer. I resented them when I was younger, for dragging me to a new country. And then I accused them of not working hard enough to provide. And by the time I figured out how much they’d done for me, the relationship was broken.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet.

“We’re closer now, but not as much as we could be. I said some pretty shitty things back in the day.” He gave a strained laugh. “I really know how to drag the mood down, don’t I?” Maybe digging up those skeletons wasn’t the greatest idea.

“I don’t mind. I’d tell you about my past, but there’s not much there. We lost Mom when I was ten, I left home when I was sixteen, and Kelly came to live with me a little while later. Dad’s one of those names people know if they’re in finance, but he was never a names on buildings kind of guy.” She twisted her mouth, as if thinking. “I guess there’s a little there to tell.”

A gust rustled through pine needles, and she shivered. Unlike those spots surrounded by asphalt and concrete, when the sun went down here, the temperatures dropped quickly.

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Ash’s shoulders. She gave him a grateful smile and slipped her arms into the sleeves. The coat hung almost as low as her skirt, making a tempting and enticing sight.

They finished dinner, the conversation shifting back to lighter topics, and then he packed everything but the blanket into the car. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave, though. He left the tailgate up on the SUV, and sat on the back.

“I used to come up here after practice a lot,” he said. “At first it was because I needed the quiet. The falls I took, combined with the hours of hearing wheels on concrete, would leave my ears ringing. But it wasn’t a habit I wanted to break, so I kept it up.”

Ash settled next to him, and slipped her hand under his. “I get that. The whole need for peace and quiet thing.” Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb the natural stillness. “A lot of the time, I leave for work ten minutes early, just so I can stop somewhere along the way, some back suburban road, and listen to nothing.”

He traced his thumb along the back of her knuckles, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was both strange and right how easy it was to be familiar with her. To fall into the simple touches. The faint scent of strawberry shampoo mingled with pine and filled his head.

“Once upon a time, I tried to learn the constellations,” he said. “Big dipper. North star. Cassiopeia.”

“Point them out?”

He shook his head. “Tried is the key word there. I never figured it out. Now I just look at them.”

“Sounds like a good call. Might as well appreciate the beauty where you find it.” She lifted her head to look at him, teasing him with the stretch of her exposed neck.

He trailed his lips lightly along the pale skin. “I agree,” he murmured.

“You just can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you? Not that I’m complaining.” Breathy teasing lined her voice.

This angle was fun, but he needed more access. He hopped to his feet, and moved to stand in front of her. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

“You’re pretty good, but the best?”

He adored this side of her, when she let the world fall away and fell into the banter. He pushed between her legs, hands on her thighs, sliding her skirt up. “Sounds like a challenge. I’ve never been a second-place kind of guy.”

“I would have guessed that.” Her laugh was a natural high. “But don’t let me stop you if you’ve got something to prove.”

Mischa rested his hand at the back of her neck, and traced a row of kisses from her jaw to her collarbone. “Challenge accepted,” he murmured against her skin.

He cupped her breast, and dragged his thumb lightly across her nipple, teasing through fabric. The hard nub was easy to find, and he suspected it wasn’t because of the chill in the air.

She gasped when he kneaded.

“Good?” he asked, as he pinched and tugged.

“Pretty decent.” She managed.

He continued to knead while he moved his mouth back to her neck, to suck on the tender flesh. The more pressure he applied in either place, the more she shifted and squirmed and sighed.

She scooted closer, until her pussy pressed against him, teasing his cock through his slacks. Each shift of her hips worked in time with his attentions, grinding into his erection.

It was such a simple thing. Making out in the back of the car, in the mountains. But with her, it was different. Distinct and irresistible.

He didn’t know how she had this effect on him, but he wanted to dive in until he figured it out.

*

ASH FELT LIKE SHE’D been on an emotional roller coaster the entire day. When they arrived at the restaurant, she just wanted to leave it all behind.

Now, she was looking for the next climb and dip and spiral. With each new touch from Mischa, her head floated a little higher into the clouds.

There was something about him that made it easier to open up. At least a little. She wasn’t there yet, but he provoked a boldness in her that she thought she’d lost.

And he was rock hard, digging into her mound, pelvis thrusting in time with her. “I was wrong,” she said.

“Hmm...?” Every time he made a noise like that, it buzzed through her skin, stealing more of her thoughts.

“Definitely the best. But don’t let that stop you.”

“Not a lot could at this point.” He reached between them, and pressed his fingers against her panties.

She shifted her weight to get closer to his touch, moaning when he hit the right spot. “Oh, jeez. Right there.”

He pressed harder against the fabric, drawing tiny circles, not pulling back when she scooted her ass forward to feel more.

How did he do that? It wasn’t just having the right touch. She felt like she could drop certain barriers with him. Be more of her.

She screamed when she came, grinding into his touch for all she was worth. Wanting to feel everything and reluctant to pull away even when it became too much.

He eased up slowly, and brought his mouth down on hers. “Fuck, I like to watch you come.” He spoke between pecks against her lips.

She dropped her hand to the front of his slacks, tracing his erection and smirking when he jerked against her hand. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, and a frown slipped out before she could stop it. He kissed the creases of her forehead. “Don’t pout. I don’t have any condoms.”

“So?” They’d already crossed that bridge, hadn’t they?

He pulled her skirt back down. “I don’t want to make it a habit.”

She couldn’t just leave things that way. Sure, she was swooning that he didn’t expect her to reciprocate, but she wanted... What?

To see that look he got when he lost himself in something, and to know she was responsible for it. She stroked him through his slacks, holding his gaze.

“Ангел мой. What are you doing?” A growl cut through his question.

“Returning the favor.” She undid his belt and slacks, and dragged down his zipper. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“Fuck, you’re wicked.” He half-closed his eyes when she dipped under his boxer briefs, to grip his shaft.

He was hot against her palm, and she worked him free, watching his expression shift to figure out what was working. Most of it, as far as she could tell.

She slid from her seat and dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Ash...” Whatever he was going to say vanished in a low groan when she flicked her tongue over the bulbous head, licking away the glistening drop waiting for her.

“Stop?” she asked playfully, looking up at him.

“Not wicked. Downright evil.”

She took him in her mouth, pumping at the base, while she trailed her tongue along his shaft. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face, never taking his eyes off hers.

Doing this for him was as good as feeling him between her legs. Knowing she was responsible for the sounds he made, and the rhythmic thrusting of his hips.

“You have to...” His words faded into grunt. “I can’t hold back.”

“I want to taste you.” She increased her pace, losing herself in the moment as much as he seemed to be.

When the first salty spurt hit the back of her throat, it startled her, but she didn’t stop. She kept sucking until he slowed, then she pulled back, unable to hide her smile at the tiny shudders each touch sent through him.

He grasped her hand and tugged her to her feet. His kiss stole her breath with the intensity. “The things you do to me.” He muttered against her lips. “And I don’t just mean physically, though wow.”

She flushed at the exclamation, and rested her cheek against his chest. With his arms around her, she was safer than she’d ever been. It was incredible and terrifying, but she was willing to ignore the fear, in favor of remembering this moment.

*.

When he didn’t need his hand on the wheel, Mischa kept his fingers intertwined with Ash’s. They headed back down the mountain, only passing the occasional car. They reached the freeway, and he frowned when they hit standstill traffic before they cleared the on-ramp. Unusual any time of day for this part of the interstate, but it was almost eleven. The cars should be few and far between up to this point.

“Weird,” Ash said. “Accident of some kind?”

“I guess. But they should have it cleared up soon. This is probably the after-affect.”

Ten minutes later, they’d barely moved a meter. “Check the traffic cameras and reports?” Mischa asked.

“Yeah.” Ash pulled her phone from her purse. The glow was jarring in the otherwise dark car, but it wasn’t as though it made it difficult for him to drive. “Fuck.” Her voice was quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s an overturned trailer at the mouth of Parley’s, blocking off all three lanes. There’s no ETA on when the road will be open again.”

That sucked, but it could be worse. It wouldn’t take much to turn around from here. “We’ll head into town, grab a hotel room for the night, and go home in the morning instead.”

“No.” Ash’s protest was loud in stillness. “I’m not leaving Kelly alone overnight.”

“She’s fourteen. She’ll be okay.”

“Please?” Ash’s voice cracked.

Well, fuck. “Call her, and tell her we’ll be late. We’ll take the scenic route.” If he backtracked to I-84, they could head north, through another set of mountains, then come back down I-15. It would take more than an hour, rather than twenty-five minutes, but how was he supposed to turn down Ash’s request with the desperation in her voice?

She did a lot of fidgeting and checking her phone during the trip. It was well after midnight when they walked in the front door. Mischa reset the alarm, and Ash kicked off her shoes as she hurried into the living room. He followed at a slower pace to find her kneeling next to the couch, shaking Kelly awake.

“You’re home.” Kelly sounded tired, but relieved. She threw her arms around Ash’s neck.

“We are.” Ash returned the hug. “Go to bed. In your own bed. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

Kelly nodded and stumbled to her feet. She gave Mischa a tiny smile, then headed toward the basement. He was missing something between the two of them.

A nagging in the back of his head warned this could be a repeat of Victoria. That was ridiculous. Ash wasn’t an addict, she was concerned about her sister. Then why did he feel like whatever Ash was holding back had the potential to wreck his world?

She slipped her hand into his, jarring him back from questions that should have answers. She still wore his jacket, and was watching him, eyes wide, but tired. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He tugged her toward the stairs. A weight shifted away when she stayed by his side, rather than going to her own room.

She shrugged out of his coat and handed it back, and he draped it over a nearby chair. The driving desire from earlier had been sated. This was a new kind of itch. One he didn’t know if he could define.

He kissed along her shoulder as he unzipped her dress. The clothing fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but cotton panties. He stripped off his own clothes as well, climbed into bed, and tugged her down next to him.

The way she pressed into him, skin against skin, with a soft sigh, was as electric as anything he’d experienced. Enticing and terrifying.

Having Ash in his bed wasn’t a habit he should form, but he was so far from wanting to stop it wasn’t funny.

****

ASH DIDN’T KNOW IF she could sleep. Being wrapped up in Mischa’s arms helped chase away the lingering traces of panic that set in at the thought of leaving Kelly alone, but it highlighted another concern.

Every time she started to tell him the full story about why Kelly lived with her, her brain froze. That tiny insecurity surged back, asking if maybe she was the one at fault, and not Dad.

She cared what Mischa thought, and when she rehearsed the conversation in her head, sometimes it went well, but sometimes he told her she was an entitled brat.

She drifted off, caught in a torrent of potential outcomes. The last imaginary conversation she had before she fell asleep was Mischa’s insistence her father was probably right from everything he’d seen.

She hated those demons. Wished she could exorcize them for good.

As the weekdays ticked by, everything outside her head went smoothly. She caught up quickly at work, and settled in at home. Mischa was as attentive as before, but that didn’t stop her from asking herself if he was doing it for the right reasons.

Kelly spent more time at home than she had when they lived in the apartment. Ash suspected part of it was because Emma didn’t live around the corner anymore, though her mother didn’t mind the drive. After work, Mischa showed Kelly new tricks. They spent a lot of time in the empty pool, skating.

Ash liked seeing her sister have so much fun, but it also made the pit in her gut grow.

Friday evening, she and Mischa were heading home from work for the night, when a friendly shout from Tristan stopped them.

“See you tomorrow?”

“What’s tomorrow?” Ash asked.

Mischa winced. “Shit. I forgot. I thought it was next week.”

“Tomorrow,” Tristan repeated.

“What is?” A sick pit grew in her gut, linked to a dread she couldn’t identify.

Mischa turned to her. “Summer Splash.”

Her head whirled at the familiar phrase. Fuck.

“It’s this family picnic thing.” Mischa’s tone said he didn’t notice this had knocked the bottom out of her world. “One of our financers throws it. I was telling you about it when we got engaged.”

Except he never mentioned it by name. Then again, she’d never mentioned her father by name, either. Apparently now was the time to have that conversation about who she was and why her sister lived with her. Maybe not in front of Tristan though.

She kept her mask in place, waving and smiling as Mischa promised they’d be there tomorrow, and followed him outside. Please don’t let this explode in my face.