Ash’s face goes serious, and I feel myself flush at her words.
“Wedding?” I ask, my panic rising again.
“I didn’t have a chance to ask her about that yet,” Ash says to Inga, his tone clipped.
I meet Ash’s eyes again, and he explains, “Inga is getting married, and she needs to know if I’m bringing a plus one. I figured I’d ask you if you wanted to go with me after we saw how dinner went, but I should’ve known my sister would jump the gun.”
“Sorry,” Inga says, although she doesn’t sound it.
“Where is Justin tonight anyway?” Ash asks.
“Still traveling,” Inga says. “He comes home tomorrow night. He was sorry not to be here to meet Gray.”
Her fiancé I assume.
“I know it’s early to say this,” Petra says, “but I really hope you decide to come to the wedding, Gray. We won’t have nearly enough time to get to know you in one dinner.”
Petra is refreshingly friendly compared to Inga, who clearly has harder edges, and I feel like I’m being hit with a good cop-bad cop routine from them. Petra’s kindness is disarming, and I resist the urge to tell her I’ll check my calendar to see if I’m available.
I flinch when Ash’s arm slips forward on the back of the loveseat to rest on my shoulders. His thumb grazes back and forth over my upper arm, and I stop breathing for a few seconds.
Only Inga seems to notice my reaction, and she cocks her head at me. I give her a quick smile and force myself to relax. If we’re going to make Ash’s family believe we’re dating, I can’t freak out every time he touches me. Touching each other needs to seem natural. Comfortable.
I lean forward to take a sip of my wine, and when I sit back, I purposely settle closer into Ash’s body. He gives a long exhale before his arm tightens around me, drawing me in even closer. He turns his head to plant a light kiss on my temple, and my heart does a backflip.
I take deep, calming breaths to steady myself as the family moves onto other topics of conversation. It didn’t occur to me just how much acting we’d need to do this trip to fool Ash’s family into thinking we’re dating, and I’m suddenly terrified.
That kiss on my temple felt all too real, and I have to remind myself Ash and I are pretending. Just as I put on a façade when I step into the classroom and turn myself from an introvert into a performer, I need to turn myself here from a single woman who recently struggled her way through online dating into the girlfriend of an NHL hockey star.
How hard can it possibly be?
Chapter 21
Gray
The rest of dinner with Ash’s family goes well enough. The wine helps. I’m careful not to drink so much that I’m tipsy, but two glasses later, I’m relaxed enough that I don’t jump every time Ash touches me.
His touch doesn’t bother me. Far from it. It sends a thrill through my body every time he puts his hands on my shoulders or brushes his fingers down my cheek before pressing a kiss to my forehead. Hell, his touches are so tender he almost has me believing they’re real. It’s just been a while since I’ve been touched like this, and it still surprises me to find Ash’s hands on me.
I touch him back as well, but nothing overly bold. I place a hand on his forearm a few times, and once I go so far as to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. He smiles as I let my fingers trail down the side of his face.
During dessert, Ash’s hand lands on my leg under the table and I nearly drop my fork. His thumb strokes my thigh, and my face flushes as I remember his hand creeping between my legs that night at the club.
Our other touches have been for show, a display for his family, but they can’t see his hand under the table.
He wants you. Celena’s declaration comes back to me, but I ignore it.
Ash slides his hand slowly up and down my thigh, and my body goes warm. God damn him. I put my own hand on his to stop it as I feel wetness gather at my apex. A smile crooks up the corner of his lips, and he squeezes my leg before his thumb begins to stroke again.
Mercifully, dinner ends shortly after that. We clear the table and clean the dishes, then sit down to play Setback. The teams are Sigga andGunnar, me and Ash, and Petra and Inga, so Ash and I can no longer sit next to each other. I get some relief for a couple hours as we play, and as a bonus, Ash and I wipe the floor with his family at cards.
I’m relaxed as we head down the hall to our room, until it occurs to me for the first time that we have to share a bed.
There’s a queen in the spare room, and that’s fine for just me, or if I had to share a bed with someone like Celena, but the bed looks laughably small as I try to imagine myself fitting into it with Ash’s muscled 6’4” frame. I look around the room for another sleeping option, but there isn’t one, and sleeping out on the living room couch would raise questions.
“Shit.”
“Something wrong?” Ash asks as he rummages through his overnight bag for whatever he packed to sleep in.
