He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her alone. She flicked on a light to search her bag for her toiletry kit and noticed one item had been left in the Jeep. She went outside to get his guitar. All day, she’d been dying to hear him play, and before she went to sleep, she wanted a song.
She changed into pink sweats and turned the lights off. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she balanced his guitar case over her lap.
When he exited the bathroom, she asked, “Will you play for me?”
In the flickering light of the fire, his expression was buried in shadows. Gently, he picked the case up and set it on the small table in the kitchen. He turned and breathed out a long, deep sigh. “Not tonight. I’m pretty beat.”
The clock on the wall showed a few minutes past midnight.Had she scared him off with that little freak-out?Maybe he felt trapped with a crazy woman in a cabin in the woods.
She tried not to let her disappointment show, projecting as much cheer into her voice as possible. “Maybe you can play something in the morning while I make breakfast?”
His lips thinned, nearly curved at the corners, but failed to find his signature smile. “Sure, babe. That sounds great. I’m just tired from the drive, and my head hurts.”
She jumped up. “Are you okay?”
Spencer had punched him, and Ash could have a concussion. Her fingers itched to shine a light in his eyes and examine his pupils, but she refrained. Like he’d said, he was probably fatigued from the drive.
Ash put a hand to his temple. “I took some Tylenol, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to call it a night.”
Her eyes followed each languid step of his as he moved in front of the fire. He poked the logs to the back, added a few more, and put the fire screen in place.
“That should keep us warm until morning.” He moved to the bed and stretched out his long form on top of the comforter, pulling the extra blanket over, but his toes poked out at the end.
“Your feet are going to get cold.” A quick search of the cabin, and she found another blanket. After laying it on top of him, she crawled under the covers. “Do you feel okay?”
His eyes pinched with pain. “It’s only a headache.”
He lifted up, leaned over, and pressed his lips against her brow. The velvety-soft touch skimmed across her skin, searing her with his kiss.
“Good night, babe.”
She gripped his shoulder. “Good night, Ash.”
Flickering firelight cast shadows over the ceiling as she clutched the blankets around her neck. All concerns over whether Ash would adhere to his promise settled within moments as he turned his back toward her and faced away. She listened to his breathing, waiting for him to fall asleep.
Thirty minutes later, the telltale glow of a cell phone lit up his side of the bed.
“Ash,” she whispered, “are you awake?”
He rolled over. “Yeah, can’t sleep. Sorry, did I keep you up?”
“Is it your headache?”
“No. I’ve got a song brewing in my head.”
“Oh.”
He lifted the phone. “I’m trying to get it down, so I don’t forget it.”
She sat up. “You won’t bother me if you want to work on it. I’m not sleepy.”
He glanced at her, eyes narrowing. “Earlier, when you…was it me? Did I do something?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. When you were in the bathroom, it felt like I’d done something wrong.”
“You’re going to hate this, but it’s?—”
