Page 38 of Lovingly Restored

“So this is…beneficial for everyone?” she asks.

I pull at the neckline of my sweater. “Lots of benefits.”

Barely contained lust is painted on her face. The cab light dims and leaves us sitting in near total darkness.

“Can you tell me some of them?” Her voice is a mere whisper.

“No,” I rasp, “but I can show you.”

With the lightest pressure, I guide our hands from their position on my thigh, upwards. Toward the unignorable erection that tested my patience half the drive. My heart pounds, the thick hoodie and nerves working together to make me sweat. Her fingers brush the edge of my painfully hard dick. I can’t see her facial expression anymore and I don’t want to influence her, so I remove my hand. She doesn’t hesitate. Her warm palm settles over me, and I think I might die. Then she squeezes, and my soul does leave my body for a split second. What a way to go.

“Jesus, Ashlyn.”

“That does feel like a big benefit.”

For the thousandth time, I curse myself for not calling her months ago. It takes everything in me to stay still in my seat and not thrust my hips up against her hand like a horny teen. I focus my energy on the woman next to me, reaching out to cup her face. Her jaw fits nicely between my thumb and forefinger as I tilt it up, angling her mouth to mine. She smells like mint and citrus as she sighs. The heat of her breath lures me the last inch, and I brush my mouth across hers, whisper soft. It’s only half a kiss, but she moans, and I twitch against her hand, which only makes her moan more deeply. I want to get her inside the house so fucking bad. Slipping my hand to the nape of her neck, I pull her against my mouth, turning the pressure into a proper kiss. A tingling sensation works its way down my spine. This is gonna be good.

“Help!” A loud cry comes from outside the garage.

We jolt apart like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, wrenching our necks towards the house. Muffled shouts come from inside. Mummo and Chris, maybe, but it’s hard to tell. We fly out of the truck, my arousal long gone as we race to the back door. Ashlyn runs barefoot across the rough gravel and weeds ahead of me. At the back door, she bounces on the balls of her feet while I fumble with my keys. When I get it open, she pushes past me.

“Jesus, wait, Ashlyn!”

The last thing I need is her running into potential danger. Why didn’t I hold her back and go in first? Where the fuck is Chris? I follow her through the dark kitchen as my eyes adjust. When we reach the hall, I see Mummo standing in her long nightgown, pointing to her reflection in a wood-framed mirror. Chris is there, a freaked-out expression on his face.

“Help, Jakey! Help! There’s a woman here, she’ll hurt me!”

She screams again. Despite the lack of danger, my heart picks up speed at the genuine fear rolling off her, at the alarm in her voice.

“Mummo, that’s not a woman. That’s you in the mirror. It’s a reflection!” I say, trying to reason with her. My voice is shaking, the panic still fresh in my veins.

Ashlyn steps forward, cautiously touching Mummo’s right arm.

“Hi, Mrs. Lauri, you sound scared. You saw a woman? That must have been so frightening.”

Ashlyn’s empathy is otherworldly, and I probably said the wrong thing. Again.

“Let me get rid of her,” she says. “Isaac, pass me the blanket from her chair in her room.”

I rush to grab the cream blanket and hand it over.

“Here, Mrs. Lauri. Let’s get rid of her. You go away, awful woman!” Ashlyn drapes the blanket over the mirror. “There, there. I’m here to help you. Can I help you get back into bed?”

“Is she gone?” Mummo croaks, tears streaming down the lines in her face.

“Yes, Mrs. Lauri.”

Any bit of strength Mummo had in her voice is gone. “I’m so cold.”

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

Chris places a hand on my shoulder. He and I stand in the hall, listening to Ashlyn begin to read aloud to my grandmother. My stomach churns like a cement mixer as Mummo’s mortality weighs heavy on my mind.

Chapter fourteen

Ashlyn

“Thisismyfault.”

---