“MAMA KNOWS BRIGHTON and Tomi can barely hold their own heads yet, right?”
Cap chuckles as he grabs the last box from the bed of his truck and then follows me inside. Christmas has always been an excuse for my parents to dote on us—even more so as Melanie and I have gotten older. Lord knows I don’t need a ton of gifts under the tree, but they somehow manage to hunt down the most thoughtful presents, both practical and extravagant in nature. When Melanie started getting serious with Scottie, they were quick to rope him into the fun, as well; and their generosity was so much, the first time Corie and I were actually home for the holidays, the sight of so many gifts with Corie’s name on them had her bursting into tears.
No doubt, when she see’s the haul mama’s got for the twins, my sweetheart will be a downright mess.
“Can you blame us? It’s our first Christmas as grandparents. They had to have somethin’ under the tree.”
I smirk in amusement as we enter the house through the front door, but I don’t argue with him. In truth, I’m grateful my parents are around to love on my little ones in the first place. They’re the only grandparents the twins will ever know, and I pray they stick around until my kids are grown—all three of them.
I hide my smile at the thought as we walk through the winter wonderland that is the guest house. Much like the first guest residence I built on my old property, the common areas are in the center of the home, the bedrooms located on either side—the left and the right mirroring each other. Unlike the old house, this one is quite a bit bigger, complete with two extra master bedrooms and the two double parking garages out front.
Making my way further into the house, I admit that as over the top as it seemed at the time, I’m amazed at what Melanie has done with the place. I shouldn’t be, given her skillset, but it looks and feels dream-like in here. There’s a tree nestled into the corner of the dining room, located on my right, beyond the front door. She’s got another tree tucked into the living room across the way, on my left. In the grand foyer, separating the front half of the house from the back half, is the largest tree—and still, it’s not the last. It isn’t until we reach the family room that we come upon the final tree.
Cap and I set our boxes on the floor, in front of the fireplace. It’s decked out in garland, lights, and hanging stockings. Not for the first time, I wonder where on earth I’m going to store all of these decorations after we’ve taken them down. I don’t entertain the thought for long, shrugging it off as I watch Cap. He doesn’t waste a second before he starts unloading the gifts, arranging them underneath the tree in the corner.
“Kirk, honey, you don’t need to worry about that. I can place the gifts after—”
“Woman, I know what I’m doin’. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he jibes playfully. He winks at her from over his shoulder, and she tries to hide her smile. When it starts to break free, she turns her back to us and continues filling the fridge with the haul of groceries they brought with them.
I clap a hand on my dad’s shoulder, exiting the room to join mama in the kitchen. Propping myself up against the end of the island, I rest the heels of my hands on top of the counter as I watch her do her thing.
“Thanks for doin’ this, mama.”
She tsks at me, waving her hand through the air as if to dismiss my appreciation. “You don’t need to thank me. In fact, we might need to make a tradition out of this. This house is the perfect size for all of us. Now no one has to sleep on a pull-out couch, and I get to spend a few days with those sweet grandbabies of mine.”
“And you’re sure you don’t mind keepin’ them for a few hours tonight?”
“I’m more than happy to do it. You know I am. I’ve been lookin’ forward to hoggin’ those twins for weeks—but you are prepared for Corie to throw a fit, aren’t you?”
Mama closes the refrigerator door and then rests her hands on her hips as she levels me with a knowing stare. For a moment, I’m distracted, swept away by the impressive manner in which she was able to fill that fridge to the brim and manage to get the door closed. When Cap backed into the driveway, the bed of his truck packed full of groceries, luggage, and gifts, it was the first time I ever questioned whether or not this house would be big enough to fit the entire clan. It’s only a matter of time before Melanie and Scottie arrive—and I know Leo and Jill will come straight from the airport, after they pick up Cal.
It’s my plan for Corie and I to join our family in the guest house, too. Only, before we do, I have a bit of a surprise for my bride. I think what she needs, now more than ever, is to get out—and not just out of the main house, but off of our property. She’s been cooped up for too long. After what happened when I was in L.A., I’d like to give her a little bit of that normal she seems to be craving.
Right now, taking the twins on any excursions isn’t an option either of us are willing to entertain. For Corie, she needs to gain a little of her motherly confidence back; for me, I need to make sure there’s enough muscle to go around in the event of another ambush. For now, I have something else in mind.
“It’s only dinner, mama.”
A soft chuckle spills from her lips. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a sound rich in patronization. However, knowing it’s mama I’m talking to, I patiently wait for an explanation.
“She hasn’t been away from those babies even once since they were born. Honey, pryin’ her away is gonna be no easy task. You’re not just talkin’ dinner, you’re talkin’ dinner more than an hour and a half away. I know your intentions are good. Heck, I know she needs it. Every mother needs a break—but she doesn’t know that yet. You’re first time parents. She’s never left her precious little ones in anyone else’s care other than yours for any length of time.”
She lifts her hands, holding them up in surrender as she raises a single eyebrow and stares at me perceptively. “All I’m sayin’ is, be prepared to sweet-talk your sweetheart. And you just bring those babies to me whenever you’re ready. I’ll be waitin’.”
“Corie’s at the house, packin’ everything we need to come down here for the next few days. The stylists will be there in about an hour, and I’m aimin’ to head out around sunset. Our reservation’s at seven, and I’ll have her back by ten.”
Mama smiles as she starts to leave the kitchen. She pats my arm as she passes and says, “You just call me if you need me to offer my daughter-in-law a reassurin’ word. It’s time I go check on your father. Lord help him if he doesn’t stack those presents under the tree just like Melanie would want them.”
“I heard that,” Cap grumbles.
“You know our girl,” mama replies, a hint of laughter in her tone. “Everything has to be picture perfect.”
I watch the two of them for a moment, and my chest swells with both love and pride. It’s not every Christmas I get to be home, but I sure am glad to have them here this year.
Pulling my phone out of my jacket, I check the time before I reach into the pocket of my jeans for the keys to my truck. As I call out my farewell and take my leave, I ponder the glint I just saw in mama’s blue eyes. She thinks she was telling me something I don’t already know—but I know Corie better than anyone. Her insecurities. Her fears. Her secrets, they’re mine just as much as they are hers. While it won’t be easy getting her into a dress, let alone getting her to leave our children, tonight I intend to celebrate with my wife. The truth is, I don’t just know who she is—I know what she needs, and I aim to give it to her.
I love my woman now more than I ever have before. It’s a kind of love I never dreamed possible; a love one can’t imagine until it’s been experienced; a love the best songs are made of. It’s not merely time that has allowed my heart to grow so completely intertwined with hers that I can’t imagine living without her—it’s Corie Leigh herself. She’s my partner in all things, and in ways I didn’t even know I needed.
She’s certainly not without her faults, but I love her in spite of them—I love her because of them, for they remind me she’s only human, and so am I. No matter what the media says about me, no matter how many praises are showered upon my name, regardless of the halo of light casted over me on every stage I step onto, my wife has never ceased to remind me that I am just Ashley. Her Ashley. And she is mine. All mine.
As the years go by, I’m convinced God himself gave her to me to keep me humble. To keep me grounded. To keep me sane. To her, my fame and fortune is a byproduct of my music and nothing more. She’s never been greedy or indulgent, and she’s not particularly fond of being in the spotlight. On the contrary, she supports me in all I do, all the while working just as hard as anyone to share my music. And in return, I know I have a responsibility of my own. I owe her the world, as she keeps adding to mine.
I PAUSE AT the nursery door, Tomi’s rose gold diaper bag hanging from one shoulder and Brighton’s navy blue one hanging from the other. Staring in on them as they continue to slumber, I feel it burst inside of me—the warm, cozy, and undeniable sensation of love and anticipation. I used to stand in this doorway, dreaming of the child Ashley and I were trying to conceive. To stand here now, in this quiet moment, looking in on my beautiful babies, knowing there’s another on the way—I marvel at the intricacies of the human heart. I was sure mine couldn’t hold anymore love, but I feel it making room. It’s overwhelming and scary, yes; but it’s also incredible. To think that my love for one man could manifest itself into a family of five…
I really am the luckiest woman in the world.
Pulling in a deep inhale, I blow it out in a huff and turn on my heel. If I don’t stop staring while wading through my own thoughts, the twins will be up before I’m ready. Fortunately, they’ve been down for over an hour, and I’ve managed to get a ton accomplished. Heading toward the main room, I look at the pile of belongings I keep adding to for Ashley to load into my mom-car when he gets back home. I set the diaper bags next to Ashley’s leather duffle; it’s usually his overnight bag, currently filled with baby clothes, extra baby clothes, burp cloths, and swaddle blankets. I’ve also got one of our larger roller bag suitcases, filled with a few bigger essentials, alongside their car seats, which are all ready to go.
Studying the collection of bags, I snap my fingers when I realize what I’ve forgotten, and I’m quick to head back to the hall closet. Stowed inside are the two travel cribs we knew we’d need at some point. We’ve never used them before. As I pull them out and begin carrying them down the hall, I’m a little surprised by how heavy they are. When I hear the garage door open and close, I blow out a sigh of relief, grateful to have my husband home.
“Sweets, is that you?” I mock whisper as I continue to lug a travel crib in each hand.
He spots me as he rounds the corner out of the kitchen, and a slight frown tugs at his brow as he mutters, “Corie, what are you doin’?”
“The babies are still sleeping,” I reply, my voice remaining no louder than a whisper. “I’m almost done gathering all of our things, and I was hoping they’d stay down for a little while longer. Can you—”
“I’m not talkin’ about you whisperin’, sugar. Give me those. You don’t need to be luggin’ these big things around.”
I smile up at him as he takes the cribs away from me and then point at their first destination. “Thanks, honey. You can put them right over there.”
He glances back over his shoulder, and I see it as his body jolts in surprise.
“I haven’t brought our bag out yet, but I still need to throw a few things in there. Oh, and your gift. I have to grab that, too.”
Coughing out a sigh, he rights his head until he’s looking—no, gaping at me. For a second, he doesn’t say anything. Not entirely sure what he could be thinking, I don’t say anything, either. Finally, he breaks the silence and says, “Darlin’, we’re going down the hill for four days.”
My eyes dart from him, to the pile of bags, and then back at him. I think over everything I’ve gathered so far, mentally retracing my steps. After I’ve gone through the list, I rake my fingers through my hair, tossing the wavy locks down my back as I inquire, “You think I’m forgetting something?”
“No,” he chuckles. “Corie, I think you packed everything but the kitchen sink.”
Dropping my hands to my sides, I shrug helplessly. “I want them to be comfortable. Since we brought them home, they haven’t been anywhere else for one night, let alone four. I just thought, if I brought along enough of the things that are a part of their routine, they wouldn’t notice so much.”
Ashley shakes his head at me and then goes to set down the cribs. “Lord, have mercy.”
“What? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinkin’ if this is a preview of what you’ll be packin’ from now on, we’re gonna need to hire someone to keep track of all these bags when we’re on the road.”
Instantly, his words spark an image in my mind—the two of us with our babies, our security detail, and a group of hired hands carrying an obnoxious amount of luggage. I giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. “Too much?” I inquire as he returns to me.
He pulls me into his arms, and I go willingly, resting against him as he mutters, “Mama knows best.” He kisses me. Then, when he pulls away, he doesn’t let me go—so I press against him a little closer.
“Speaking of mothers, did your parents get settled in okay?”
“Yeah, they’re good.”
“Good. Jill texted me a little while ago. They should be here in a couple of hours. I thought, as soon as the twins were up and fed, we could head down there, too.”
“I’ve got another idea,” he tells me, his grip tightening around me.
“Oh?” I hum.
The warm sensation I felt inside of me only moments ago returns in full force. Only, wrapped in Ashley’s arms, with his handsome hazel eyes staring at me intently, my lust for him tangles itself in my love. For the first time in days, I’m not tired, I’m not crying—and the thought of my man inside of me stirs a longing the likes of which only Ashley has ever been able to satisfy.
“Mmhmm,” he hums, touching his forehead to mine.
Grabbing hold of the lapels of his leather jacket, I pull him even closer as I press up onto my tiptoes. Tilting my head back, I align my mouth with his, staring into his eyes as I murmur, “Is my husband trying to get lucky while he still has me all to himself—knowing he’ll be hard pressed to get me in the mood with his sister staying in the room next to ours?”
I feel his lips as they pull into a grin. His arms constrict around me, and a deep, quiet laugh rumbles in his chest before he speaks. “Is that a challenge?”
My longing transforms into desperation as his hands descend to my hips. He grips me tightly, pulling me so close I can feel his growing erection through his jeans—my leggings hardly a barrier worth noting. Giggling against his lips, I declare, “No, sweets. It’s an invitation.”
I hardly get the words out before his tongue is sweeping through my mouth. I hum, appreciating the intrusion, and I kiss him back hungrily. I can feel it as his length hardens completely, and the heat inside of my core unfurls in such a way that won’t be denied. I circle my arms around Ashley’s neck, laughter bubbling out of me even as he kisses me harder.
“What’s funny?” he pants, breaking our kiss.
He runs his nose down the length of mine, and my eyes remain closed as I confess, “I don’t know how I could have been surprised.”
“Surprised by what, darlin’?”
“That you put another baby in me.” Wanting to feel his lips once more, I seek them out as I breathe, “I’m a mommy, I’m a milk maid—and I still feel more self-conscious about my body than I know you want to hear—but some things never change. You can turn me on like you’re flipping a switch, and then all I can think about is you.”
A moan spills from my lips when he slips a hand beneath the waistband of both my leggings and my panties, and I shudder when he goes searching for evidence of my arousal. He mutters a curse into my mouth as he closes his lips around mine, his fingers smearing my wetness around my clit as he kisses me hard and deep.
“We don’t have a lot of time. Come ‘ere.”
He moves so quickly, I almost lose my balance as he grabs my hand and starts dragging me toward our bedroom. Assuming he’s thinking of the little time we have left before the babies wake, I hold tight to his fingers and hurry after him. As soon as we cross the threshold of the room, he lets me go to shed his jacket. I don’t waste any time, making my way toward the bed before I shimmy my clothes down my legs. By the time I’ve kicked them from around my feet, Ashley is stalking toward me, his hands working to loosen the top button of his jeans.
I rake my eyes up and down my gorgeous man, excitement coursing through my veins like liquid fire—my whole body burning at the thought that he wants me as much as I need him. I lift myself up onto the bed, reclining across the mattress on my elbows as he shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free himself.
He crawls on top of me, easing me onto my back completely. I spread my knees for him, reaching for his face as he penetrates my entrance. We both sigh in pleasure together before he brushes the softest of kisses against my lips. He then props himself on his forearms, resting his forehead against mine as he bucks his hips just right.
Another moan claws its way out of me, and I arch my chest toward his, hitching my legs up against his sides. He grunts in response, taking me harder as his hips rock faster. I can feel my skin growing sticky as I start to perspire—the fire he stokes within me causing me to overheat from the inside out. Needing to feel more of him, I drag my hands down the front of his t-shirt, fisting it greedily as I pull it up. With his stomach bared to me, I don’t bother trying to rid his body of the cotton; rather, I flatten the palms of my hands over his solid abdomen, feeling my way up and over his pecks. He jerks his hips harder still, and my whimper is lost in the sound of his groan.
Neither of us utters so much as a word as we lose ourselves in one another. The room fills with the soundtrack of our panting breath, our helpless moans, and the sound of his skin slapping against mine—my arousal soaking his shaft with every returning thrust. I know he’s close when he slips a hand down between us, his thumb finding my clit as he stares straight into my eyes. My brow furrows in sweet ecstasy, my fingers holding onto the t-shirt at his back in two tight fists as I gasp and succumb to my orgasm. It barrels through me, euphoria bursting from deep within my core as the walls of my center constrict around his cock.
He grunts, his thrusts growing erratic before he stills. His eyes fall closed as he spills his release inside of me, and I’m breathless as he collapses his weight on top of me. He doesn’t stay nearly as long as I’d like, rolling off of me and onto his back at my side a moment later. Though, a smile plays at my lips when he reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. I turn my head, resting my cheek against the bed, and find him gazing at me.
“That was fun.”
Laughing, I nod my head and squeeze his fingers—content beyond words.
“I’ve got be honest, though. That wasn’t the idea I had in mind.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, searching his face for answers. I can tell right away I’ve missed something.
“We’ve got plans tonight.”
“What kind of plans?”
“The kind of plans that involve Trish and Delilah. They’ll be here in twenty minutes or so.”
“What?” I ask, my eyebrows tugging together in confusion. “Ashley, what are you talking about? Why are stylists coming to our house three days before Christmas?” My eyes grow wide and I gasp as I bolt upright and demand, “Tell me you and Simon didn’t arrange some sort of holiday photo shoot without telling me.”
Ashely sits up next to me, calm and collected. He lets go of my hand and tucks a bit of hair behind my ear as he assures me, “I’d never do that to you, and you know it. I’m takin’ you out on a date, that’s all.”
“A date? Where? And that doesn’t explain why two stylists—whom I know live in Manhattan—are going to be here in twenty minutes.”
“We’re goin’ to Nashville. I’m takin’ you to dinner,” he explains patiently. “I called in a favor with Trish and Delilah. I wanted you to have a little pamperin’ before we went out.”
I stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. While part of me is a little distracted by the feeling of his seed leaking out of me, another part of me is touched that he’d go through so much trouble just to take me out on a date. And yet—an even bigger part of me feels awful that we can’t possibly go.
“Baby, we can’t go to Nashville. We agreed, until we found someone else to add to our security ranks, we wouldn’t take the twins into the city.”
“Cor, I know it’s been a little while now, but when I say date, I mean just you and me.”
I sit up straighter, staring at him blankly as I try to make sense of what he’s saying. “I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me that we’re leaving Tomi and Brighton all the way down here so we can go on a date all the way in Nashville? Ashley, that’s three hours round trip—in no traffic. We can’t be that far away from them for that long. Are you crazy?”
He smirks at me knowingly, but I dismiss the expression with a scowl. To my utter astonishment, he’s not fazed. Sliding a hand around the side of my neck, he holds me still as he leans into me—his hazel eyes warm and irritatingly trustworthy.
“I know you haven’t done it before, and I know my experience isn’t like yours will be. Every time I’ve left them, they’ve been with you. But I’m not talkin’ about abandoning them into some stranger’s care. Mama’s lookin’ forward to watchin’ them.”
I nod, understanding his logic but not feeling much better about his plan. “No offense against your mom—you know I love Deb—but she’s not me. She’s not us. What if something happens?”
“Nothin’s going to happen. She’s done this before. Cap, too. Throw Mel in the mix, and our babies have three dotin’ Hicks fightin’ over who gets to hold them. They’ll be fine. I promise.”
I nod once more, unable to argue this time. When I feel my nose start to tingle, I roll my eyes, knowing my tears are on the way. Sure there’s no use fighting it, I murmur, “What about me? What if I won’t be fine?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he insists, pressing a breath of a kiss against my lips. “Come on, sugar—indulge me. Been lookin’ forward to spoilin’ my wife for a couple days now. What do you say?”
Before I can conjure up a response, he’s kissing me again. Only this time, when he teases me with his tongue, I know there’s no denying him.
Reaching up to hold either side of his face, I sever my mouth from his and seek out his eyes. “You promise? You promise we can do this?”
“I promise.”
I MANAGE TO get Corie into the shower five minutes before Trish and Delilah knock on the door. Not long after I let them in, they take over the dining room, spreading out their supplies and setting up for the woman of the hour. They shoo me out of the way, giving me the chance to load up the back of the Escalade with everything Corie insists on taking down to the guest residence. By the time it’s loaded, the twins are up, and I know I’m on a timer for the rest of the night.
Over the course of the next three hours, Corie nurses the babies; they meet Delilah and Trish, all five of them hanging out as Corie gets her hair and makeup done; I take our first load down to the guest house before retuning home for a shower of my own; Corie pumps—giving Delilah and Trish a chance to hold the Hicks babies they’ve cooed over all afternoon. Then, miraculously and right on schedule, Corie’s dressed, the twins are falling asleep in their car seats, and it’s time to start saying our goodbyes.
“You have fun tonight,” says Trish, offering Corie a quick hug.
“Yes. You look amazing—I hope you feel amazing, because you could slay, girl,” Delilah states, standing back to admire her subject.
“Stop, you’ll make me cry. Besides, I wouldn’t look like this if it weren’t for you guys.”
Delilah rolls her eyes in disagreement before she scoffs, “Please, we just added a few embellishments.”
“Merry Christmas, you two!” sings Trish as they head for the door.
“Merry Christmas to you, too. You ladies get home safely, you hear?” I insist as I walk them out.
I wave one final goodbye and then close out the chilly, evening air, locking the door behind me. When I turn to face Corie once more, I allow myself a moment to admire her. They talked her into a long-sleeved, pink velvet dress that drapes around her perfectly, stopping just below her knees. The maroon tights she’s got on are a striking contrast to the pink; and the matching heels she’s slipped her feet into are like the icing on the cake. Her hair is styled with a bit of old-timey flare, pinned back on one side with the rest hanging in big, beautiful curls down her chest and back. Then, as if all that wasn’t enough, the dark lipstick she wears makes me want to kiss it right off of her.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I tug at the cuffs of my black sports coat, clearing my throat as I reach down to adjust myself in my fitted black jeans. The laugh that slips from my wife’s mouth assures me tonight is going to be a great night.
“Let’s get out of here, sugar—before I ruin that lipstick of yours.”
WE’RE TWENTY MINUTES outside of Nashville when Corie finally stops fidgeting. I shift my eyes off the road for a moment, reaching over to take hold of the back of her neck. Focusing my attention out the windshield, I massage the tension from her muscles, eliciting a soft sigh from her lips.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“They’ll be al’right.”
“I know,” she assures me with a nod. “I’m just nervous. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”
“Cap and mama will call if they need us.”
“I just feel like I’ve forgotten something, you know? Like that nagging feeling you can’t quite explain, knowing that something’s missing, only you don’t know what—except, this time I do know, and I left them on purpose and I—I—”
“You’re afraid you’re going to miss something,” I interrupt, my fingers still working up and down her neck. I feel it when she turns her head to look at me, her movement breaking my hold. Instead of letting her go, I bury my fingers in her soft, thick hair as I go on to explain, “When I left for L.A., the thought of bein’ away from them for twenty-four hours, going to sleep without them—without you—I knew I’d be missin’ somethin’. The sound of them comin’ out of sleep, the look in their eyes after they’ve been fed, and the way they fight sleep or fall right into it—I missed it before I even boarded the plane. I know how you feel. But you know what else I know?”
“Tell me.”
“You and I made each other a promise. We’ll spend more time with them than we’ll miss. And when we’re apart, it won’t ever be because we’ve got our priorities mixed up. Tonight is about you and me, darlin’. We’re stronger together, and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”
Corie grabs hold of my wrist, and I surrender to her tug as she pulls my hand from out of her hair and onto her cheek. She presses my palm firmly against her face, both of her hands covering mine as she whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
She draws in a deep breath and exhales it slowly, leaning into my hand for another moment. As she does so, I can only hope she’s breathing out a bit more of her anxiety. Yet, even as she continues to relax, I know we’re still on the clock. Tonight, I intend to get my Cinderella home long before the stroke of midnight.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asks. She pulls my hand away from her face and laces her fingers with mine before resting our hands in her lap.
“I got us a table at The 404.”
“I’ve never been there before.”
“Me neither. Read a few reviews, though. Checked out their website. I think you’ll like it.”
“Thank you.” She squeezes my fingers as she says, “Thank you for planning all of this. For Trish and Delilah and all of it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Fifteen minutes later, when we pull up to the curbside valet for The 404, I can feel it when a bit of Corie’s nerves return. I don’t even have to ask to know she sees the paparazzi milling about outside the front of the restaurant, waiting for our arrival. While this kind of thing certainly isn’t ideal, it’s part of our normal—it’s something she can handle. I’ve seen her do it time and time again.
“Ashley...” She starts and then she stops, her gaze trained out the window as she continues. “Did you tell Simon we’d be here tonight?”
“Yes,” I reply honestly.
“Honey, we didn’t bring Travis or Frank. I—”
“They’re here,” I assure her, pointing through the windshield.
She shifts her focus just as Travis and Frank reach the valet stand. Travis has a word with the attendant on duty as Frank approaches Corie’s door. He doesn’t open it, but stands with his back toward us. His mere presence triggers the paparazzi to come swarming, Frank and Travis offering all the confirmation they need that we’ve arrived.
Turning toward me, Corie doesn’t even have to say a word and I know what she’s thinking. Peering through the darkness of nightfall, broken only by the street lamps above us, I can smell her trepidation as if she’s sprayed it on with her perfume. I can sense her weariness right alongside of her frustration. Nevertheless, I won’t apologize for doing what I think is right.
“Ashley…”
“I know. I know they piss you off. Sometimes they piss me off, too—but you can’t let them win. You can’t give them that power. In three years, five years, maybe they don’t give a damn who I am. Maybe my name won’t be—”
“Don’t say that,” she interrupts, her brow dipping in a frown. “Don’t ever say that. You’re one of the greats, and I’m not saying that because you’re my husband and I love you, but because your music is phenomenal and you’re not done. I know you’re not done. So—just—don’t say that.”
A small smile curls my lips as I reach over and trace the knuckle of my index finger down her cheek and under her chin. “My manager’s still in there, huh?”
“Let’s just get this part over with,” she murmurs, trying and failing to hide her bashful smile. “I’m starving.”
I jerk my chin in affirmation, offering her a wink before I mumble, “Let’s roll.”
AS SOON AS Frank hears the latch on my door pop open, he moves aside and allows me to step out of my mom-car, all the while serving as a barrier between me and the flashing cameras. I smile at him, knowing the expression will be far more genuine casted at him than at the photographers. Turning to look for Ashley, I stop myself from closing the flaps of my new, gorgeous, wine-red, wool coat—aware it’s not the chill that makes me want to hide. Instead, I think of Trish and how much she loved me in this dress, I ignore my own thoughts about my current body, and I wait patiently for Ashley to make his way around the SUV.
When I see him, I reach for his hand, and he’s quick to take it. Though, he doesn’t stop there. Looking straight into my eyes, he lifts our hands and then kisses the back of mine. Another genuine smile spreads across my face as my belly tingles with the awareness of a million little fireflies fluttering inside of me. He still has that effect.
“Shall we?” he mutters, his voice husky and low, meant just for me.
“Please.”
I cling to his arm as he escorts me inside, Travis leading the way while Frank takes up the rear. The hostess, who was clearly expecting us, does her best to keep the stars out of her eyes as she greets Ashley and assures him our table is ready. Grabbing a couple of menus, she leads us through the restaurant. I don’t pay attention to the other patrons of the establishment, too distracted by the look and feel of the place. It’s adorably eclectic in nature, but obviously meant to give off that high-end vibe.
After walking through the establishment, we’re taken up a set of stairs into a private dining area. The room is full of tables, but only one is set; and when we approach our table, Ashley is quick to take my coat before pulling out my chair. My southern gentleman. When he settles into the seat beside mine, we’re each given a menu and assured our server will be by to take our orders soon.
I’m so hungry, everything listed makes my mouth water. Each dish sounds fresh and delicious, and I’m not sure how I’ll choose. Fortunately, when our server comes to take our drink order, Ashley asks for a glass of one of their finest bourbons, giving me a few more minutes to decide what I’d like to eat.
“Sweets?” I ask, my eyes stuck on the one thing that sounds better than the rest.
“Hmm?”
“What were you thinking of ordering?”
He shrugs and then replies, “The pork T-bone crossed my mind.”
“How does smoked fried chicken sound?”
I watch him as he peruses the menu, and I can tell when he’s found what I’m suggesting. It’s a whole chicken, meant to be shared. The smirk that dances across his face fills my hungry belly with hope. When he sets his menu down and looks at me, I can’t help but to smile at him in return.
“Throw in some cornbread and Brussel sprouts and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Done,” I state, pushing my menu aside.
Ashley leans over and kisses my lips just as our server returns with his bourbon. My sweet husband thanks him, ordering our meal before we’re left alone once more. He then surprises me when he says, “I want to make a toast.” He picks up his glass, chuckling a little as he goes on to tell me, “I know you can’t drink right now—but I assure you this straight bourbon is strong enough for the both of us.”
Laughing, I grab my glass of water and reply, “Thanks for taking one for the team.”
He grins at me, draping one arm around the back of my chair, shortening the distance between us. His smile starts to fade as he studies me for a moment. I’m about to ask what he’s thinking when he starts to speak.
“To number three,” he says, raising his bourbon.
Instantly, goosebumps spread across my arms, and a knot starts to form inside of my throat. I try and swallow it down, but he’s not finished.
“It’s going to be a wild ride—but there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”
I roll my eyes and blow out a sigh, hoping to disperse my sudden onrush of tears. It’s no use, but it was certainly worth a try. Shaking my head in surrender, I set my water down and jerk my chin at Ashley’s drink. “Take a sip—then kiss me like you mean it.”
He doesn’t hesitate, not even a for a second. With his eyes pinned on me, he throws back a healthy gulp before he sets the glass down and reaches for me. I go without an ounce of fight, opening up for him as he brings his mouth to mine. Our tongues tangle around each other, and I don’t stifle my soft hum, knowing one thing for sure—the night is still young, and I’m already drunk. Only, it’s not bourbon that intoxicates my system. It’s love. The purest, deepest, most passionate love I’ve ever known.