For Better or Hearse

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S houlders coiled, Nathaniel paces the hotel lobby and types out a message on his phone. Where are you?

Sand. Where are you?

“Ash,” he growls. The cryptic messages he keeps getting back from her aren’t helping.

It’s been two hours since she grabbed Delaney and the bottle of wine and stormed out of the restaurant like a Visigoth marauder. In that time, he and his family took an extremely awkward ride back to the hotel. From there, they disbanded. But they didn’t go their separate ways like he expected. He and Tate went to the bar. His mother and grandfather took a walk on the beach. Only his father was left blustering in the lobby. No one paid him any mind.

And they likely won’t for the rest of the trip.

Please tell me you’re okay.

You’re okay.

“Christ.”

His fucking father. He’ll never forgive him for what he said to Ash. He wouldn’t blame her if she hopped the next plane out of here. Even if the thought makes him sick to his stomach.

Her leaving—it wouldn’t feel right. They’re in it together now. Whether she knows it or not. She’s made this trip better for everyone. Especially him.

Commit a murder or clean up the evidence?

He chuckles at her text, drags a hand through his hair. Thinks back to Tate’s theory about a woman texting the one she wants when she’s drunk .

He hopes.

Christ. He’s never wanted anything more.

The lobby door slides open, and in strides his sister. The wine bottle cradled in her arm like a flower bouquet.

“She’s on the beach,” DeeDee says when she reaches him. “Straight shot south.”

He gives her a look. Tips her chin. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. But you now owe me a tarot deck and your firstborn daughter.” She slugs his shoulder. “Go get her, big brother.”

He leaves the hotel and walks the twenty yards to the beach.

His heart beats hard until he sees her. It slows to a steady rhythm as he takes her in where she’s sprawled out on the sand like a sexy, lazy starfish. In her white dress, in the silver moonlight, she glows.

“The wine has absconded,” Ash drawls. Her eyes are closed.

He sinks down beside her. Smooths her black hair from her face. “The wine has been drunk.”

Her long lashes flutter open, focus on him. He takes her hand, helps her sit up.

“Hi,” she murmurs happily.

“Hi.” He angles in and kisses those red lips. Like it’s natural. Like there’s no other earthly choice but to be drawn to her. He searches her dreamy gray-green eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re hot when you’re angry?”

“Just my creepy uncle.”

He can’t stop the growl that escapes him.

“Kidding.” She quickly turns shamefaced. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, her eyes big and beseeching. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to your father.”

A quiet smile tugs at his mouth. “If it makes you feel any better, I almost hit him in the parking lot.”

“Open hand or fist?”

“Fist. ”

“Yeah,” she purrs, leaning in to sniff his neck. “That does make me feel good.”

He kisses her again, running a hand through her untamed black hair.

A soft murmur against his lips. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The last thing he wants is for her to feel guilty.

“No, it isn’t.” She worries her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m getting blacklisted right now, aren’t I? Your family is going to tar and feather me poolside tomorrow.”

He chuckles softly.

“I did not observe, I absorbed, and now I’m in it.” She tilts her head back to look at him. Cups his cheek with a savage tenderness that makes his heart swell. “No one should talk to you like that, Nathaniel. It’s not right, and it’s not cool.”

Nathaniel’s heart thumps a strange beat. His mouth turns dry, but he manages. “You’re right. It’s not.”

It’s all he can say. When the truth is, there’s so much more. On the tip of his tongue. Burning like a forest fire through his heart.

The minute she lurched out of her chair, he knew he loved her.

That fierce defense of him, teeth bared, lit something inside. No one has ever stood up for him before. The tremble in her voice as she ripped his father a new one. The soft sheen in her eyes as she looked at him. He’s never seen anything more beautiful, never felt emotion for anyone like this.

Eleven days together, and already, she feels like the home he’s never had.

Which is why losing Ash before he even has her isn’t an option.

It’s fast. Fuck, he can’t argue with that. But he has to figure something out. Has to tell her.

But not here. Not tonight. Not when she won’t remember in the morning.

He laughs, snags her purse off the sand. “You know what was cool? You calling my dad a bona fide piece of shit. ”

She groans again, slumps into his chest. “Oh god, let the sea take me at this point.”

“I can’t lose you to the sea.”

“And why’s that?”

He gives her an affectionate grin. “You do better terrifying the people on land.”

Nathaniel scans the ground, making sure he has her phone and purse. Then places his hand on her back, one arm already threading under her knees. Scoops her into his arms and stands.

“I knew you wanted to carry me like a caveman,” she murmurs.

“Another check off my bucket list.”

She closes one eye, peers at him with the other, her head resting against his chest. “Am I drunk?”

“A little. But it’s okay. I think everyone’s getting drunk tonight.”

She sighs contentedly. “Are you drunk?”

“No. I should be.” He’s silent, then says, “I listened to my brother’s podcast.” It’s what he and Tate did at the bar while they nursed shots of Jack.

Her pleased smile is bright. “You did?”

His chest aches when she looks at him that way. “I did.”

“And?”

“You were right,” he says softly, remembering the happy expression on his brother’s face. “It mattered.”

He carries her back to the hotel, cutting across the grass to enter through valet and take the elevator up to their floor.

He doesn’t bother asking. She’s going to his room.

When he reaches the door, he slips his key from his back pocket and enters. Carefully, he sets her on her feet, only leaving her side to snag a bottle of water and to text his grandfather that he’s found her.

Ash strips down to her panties and bra. Wobbling only slightly, she crawls into his bed. With a great tired sigh, she flops against the pillows and burrows in deep. “Ugh,” she says. “This buzz would be better without eight thousand calories of dairy sloshing around in my guts.”

A smile battles at his lips. She’s adorable. Soft against the pillows. A needy glow on her face. Her smoky halo of wild black hair.

He removes her sandals. Digs her phone out of her purse and swipes it against her sensor monitor. Satisfied with her blood sugar reading, he places the device on the nightstand. Sits on the edge of the bed, beside her.

“Am I okay?” Ash lifts her head from the pillow. Scrunches her nose. “Is it a mess?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I don’t want to be a mess.”

He frowns when he realizes she’s not joking anymore. “Who says you are?”

“I say I am. And Maui says I am.”

He knew it. The way she acted prior to getting here. Tonight, the coiled shoulders, the nerves.

“It’s Maui,” he says. “Being here…something’s wrong.”

She sniffles. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re not you. Haven’t been since before we arrived.”

Ash swallows.“You act like you know me.” She turns her face away.

“Ash.” He takes her chin, gently forces her to look at him. “I do know you. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

“But does it matter?” She sounds distraught now. Her full red lips pull into a tiny slice of sadness. “I’m not the girl who wears pearl earrings, Nathaniel. I’ll never be her. I’ll never fit…” She moves her hand between them.

He grabs it and holds it to his chest. Presses it against the pang there.

What she’s saying is ridiculous, but it’s her truth. It kills him that she feels even the least bit left out. Like she doesn’t fit in. Like she’s too weird, when she’s proven her weird is exactly what his family needs .

“I don’t want you to fit,” he says roughly. “You’re Ash. You’re—”

Mine. But he doesn’t finish the sentence.

She thrashes her head, her long hair falling around her bare shoulders. “I’m not that person for you. I’m too different. I wear boots. I’m a stomping, chaotic mess. I can’t hold a job. I can’t do anything right.”

He frowns. His heart sinks. “You’re not a mess. Who told you that?”

Jerking out of his grip, she buries her face in the pillow. Her voice comes out muffled. “No one.”

He runs a hand down her back, soaks in the warmth of her. “You have it right. You are right. Do you not think that?”

“No.” The admission is a whisper so soft he can barely make out the word. Melancholy lingers beneath her tough surface. “Not all the time. Usually, I do. But sometimes, especially here, tonight, I don’t.”

God, all he wants to do is shake her. Tell her she’s perfect the way she is. Kiss her, hold her tight, never let her fucking go.

“But you’re right. I don’t like Maui.” From her shuttered expression, the ice in her voice, it’s clear she’s done talking about it.

Emotion jackhammers at his chest as he covers her with a blanket. Talking with Ash sometimes feels like trying the password to a vault. Unless you get it right, it’ll stay locked up tight. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying.

She slips a hand out from under the blanket and searches for his. “Will you stay with me?”

He links his fingers with hers. Squeezes. “You know I will,” he says thickly.

“No couch,” she grunts, tugging on his arm. “Bed. With me.”

He slides into bed beside her, tucking a slash of inky hair behind her ear. His room’s a mess. There’s sand in his sheets. But all he cares about is the riot of a girl in his bed. All bare skin, feral hair, red lips. Curled up like she belongs there.

“This doesn’t count, you know. ”

“What?” Her voice is soft, tired. She’ll be asleep soon.

He lays a hand on her hip. “Staying over.”

She grins at him, eyes closed. “Why? Because I’m too sloshed full of alcohol?”

“Something like that.”

“Will you wake me?” she whispers, nuzzling close to him. “If I don’t hear my alarm?”

“I’ll wake you up.” He has no intention of sleeping tonight. He’ll stay up, make sure her blood sugar’s okay, so she doesn’t have to worry.

He squeezes her to him. His mind still locked on her words.

I’m not that person for you.

They’re like a punch to the stomach. He hasn’t made her feel secure. Given her any indication that this is more than a vacation fling.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make her believe the truth. That she’s the one he wants.

He has no doubt of that. And he wants to be the man she needs. The man she wants. To take care of her, to protect her always—especially from assholes like his father.

His grandfather’s words ring out in his head.

I’m glad I didn’t hold back my feelings.

He won’t. He won’t shut down like he did with Camellia. Or give up like his parents did.

Instead of worrying about how they’ll make it work, he’s ready to figure it out.

First, he has to tell her.

Nathaniel closes his eyes, presses his mouth against her brow. “You are that person for me,” he says softly. “And you don’t have to wear pearl earrings.”

Only he doesn’t know if she hears him.

She’s already asleep.