Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 17

C h apte r 17

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

Evening, Thursday, Febr uary 19 th in Margot’s Bus in Kerva Point Park in Ke rva, Armav

S he stood there for a long time, feeling Ash’s palm on her body, hating herself for the wave of gratitude she felt at the idea of him touching her willingly. Finally, she turned around to face him. He was watching her carefully, the emotional drain of the day spent bickering with his brother evident in his eyes. He was waiting for her to say something, and by the look on his face, he was not expecting her to be kind. Sighing, she stepped past him, opening the door to her home and steppin g inside.

When he didn’t immediately follow, she stuck her head out and gestured for him to follow. “Get in here,” she said. “It’s chilly o ut there.”

“You don’t have to,” Ash said, pausing at the threshold. “I can stay out here. Give you your privacy.”

Margot shook her head. “Ash, my privacy has been shot to hell since last night. Get your but t inside.”

A small smile touching his lips, Ash obeyed, tugging the door shut behind him. He glanced around the small space, then reached over to spin the passenger seat, settling himself down and pushing her clothes to the side again so they didn’t hang in his face.

“Want something to eat?” she offered, kicking off her sneakers and tucking them on the step next to h er boots.

“Sure,” Ash agreed, “though I don’t think they deliver up here. We can go back into tow n to get—”

“I can cook, remember?” Margot told him. “Grilled cheese and bacon?” she said, recalling many days in Maddie’s house where they alternated who cooked the grilled cheese and who decided how crispy the b acon got.

“Sure,” h e agreed.

She removed the small pan from its hook along the back wall and turned on the burner of her stovetop. While it heated, she pulled the bacon from the fridge, settling a few strips on the metal pan in her small convection oven. She recalled Ash liked three strips on his sandwich, while she preferred only two. Glad she always had basic food supplies on hand, Margot pulled enough for two sandwiches each. Sometimes she cooked more elaborate food for herself, but for now, the simplicity of her motions helped soothe her. There was comfort in working in her kitchen, in her space. She was aware of Ash watching her, very aware of her bare back when pieces of her hair, escaping from her bun, managed to touch her skin, but she didn’t tur n around.

When the bacon was ready, she began assembling sandwiches, the routine easy enough. When all four sandwiches were ready, she turned to face him, finding him sitting in the same position. He took the plate she offered, and she plopped her plate down on the low desk beneath her bed. Kneeling before the fridge, she opened the door, then glanced at Ash. “Tea or bubbles?” she asked him, knowing his preference for both iced tea and seltzer.

“Bubbles,” he answered. “Do you have the l ime ones?”

“Of course,” she told him, plucking out a can and tossing it his way. He caught it easily in one hand, a move that only made her wonder what else those hands could do, and she reached back in for a tea, trying to focus. Just as she was about to shut the door, Ash leaned forward, body easily covering the small space between his seat and the fridge, and peere d inside.

“Wait,” he said, head close to her chest. “Is that…?” He glanced at her. “Aunt Maddie gave you a bottle of her wine?”

Slightly embarrassed, Margot nodded, reaching deep inside to retrieve the oddly shaped bottle in question. “Yeah, a long time ago. She said I’d want it one day… when I really needed answers.”

Ash sat back, studying the bottle from a distance. “I didn’t know any of it was left.”

Margot swirled the bottle, tinted glass making the liquid inside a dark purple, almost black. It had no label, just a handmade wax seal over the opening. “Was it a special pressing or something?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing any others like this at the bar.”

“No way she would share it,” Ash said, taking a bite of his grilled cheese and sighing in contentment. He chewed for a moment, contemplating, then swallowed. “That’s way too precious for just anyone to have.”

“The good stuff, huh?” Margot asked. “I’m not much of a drinker and definitely not wine. I think I forgot about it back there.” She put it on the floor between them, the overhead light casting a dark shadow through the glass and onto the wooden floor. Margot stared at it as she began to eat her sandwich. At first, she was convinced there was something off about the shadow, like the haze that shimmered over Ash’s hand as he warmed her, but then cheese and bacon and salty goodness exploded on her tongue, and she closed her eyes, relishing a good sandwich. She had moved on to her second sandwich and finished most of her iced tea before she slowed down enough to return her attention to th e bottle.

“Have you had this before? Is it any good?”

Ash took a swig of his lime seltzer, peering at the bottle on the floor. “I have,” he answered slowly, “and yes, it’s quite good. Potent.”

Margot narrowed her eyes. “I’m sensing some hesitation,” she offered. “Did you get drunk on Aunt Maddie’s special wine, Ashton St onewall?”

He smiled in response to her flirtatious tone and nodded, a bit of red creeping up his neck. “Not one of my finer moments,” he recalled. “Though Nik and Timothy were no bet ter off.”

“Nice,” Margot judged, taking her last bite of sandwich. “No wonder she gave me the last bottle. Apparently I know how to be responsible.” She was about to stand up, but Ash beat her to it, collecting her plate and stepping to the sink. He turned on the water and quickly washed up, hanging up her frying pan and putting the plates back on their shelf. The bacon pan took a little bit more effort, and she enjoyed watching him from behind as he moved, scrubbing the grease away in small bursts, careful to conserve her water supply. They’d both lived in RVs long enough to be careful of wat er usage.

As he finished, drying his hands on her small blue towel, she tilted her head. “Any idea what she meant by that wine giving answers? Did you get visions or something when you drank it?”

Ash chuckled. “Not exactly,” he admitted. “I got really slop py drunk.”

Margot frowned. “It must have been a long time ago then. I’ve seen you drink, and you don’t get sloppy dr unk, Ash.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had som e nights.”

Margot looked away, seeing the line of desperate women who always surrounded him, wondering if she wanted to hear more about Ash’ s nights.

“Not like this, though,” he said, walking back to where she sat. He leaned down to pick up the bottle, seemed to contemplate something, then shook his head, putting it back into th e fridge.

“Like what? Stuck in a tiny bus on a mountainside?” Margot asked, hating the bitterness she could hear in h er voice.

“Margot,” he said, and she looked up, not used to him calling her by her full name. “I am not stuck with you. I am here because I choose to be here.”

“But you wouldn’t be,” she said, unable to stop talking. “If Tobin hadn’t forced you, you would be somewh ere else.”

With som eone else.

Ash bit his lip, but he didn’t say anything, something hiding behind his eyes.

“I’ll say it again, damn it, since you keep giving me that look. You don’t have to be here. Just go.” She took a deep breath, then finished her drink with a too-long swallow that stole he r breath.

“I want to be here,” he said again. “ With you.”

Margot coughed at the words she had longed to hear him say. When she finally stopped choking, she gasp ed, “Why?”

Ash knelt by her side, waiting for her to wipe her teary eyes and gather herself. When he saw he had her full attention, he said, “Because I like you, Go. Don’t you know tha t by now?”