Enchant Me by J. Kenner

20

“I feel like a damn idiot,” Ash says the moment we enter his room. He’s been treated for a broken arm, a fractured rib, and is being held for observation for a concussion following a head injury. He looks pale and fragile in the hospital gown, but I think he actually looks better than Damien, who has lost all color.

I take his hand and give it a sympathetic squeeze.

“You got lucky,” Damien says. “It could have been a lot worse. I saw pictures of the car, and it looks like something out of a trash compactor. Honestly, Ash, what the hell were you thinking?”

To my surprise, Ash laughs.

Damien catches my eye, clearly surprised. “You think this is funny?” he asks Ash, who shakes his head.

“No, I—oh, hell. I grew up without a father. I think you just conveyed the full experience in a few words and one hell of a harsh tone.” He smiles, and the humor is gone from his voice when he says, very simply, “Thanks.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I’m not surprised when Damien reaches to steady himself by holding the back of a nearby chair. After a moment, he sits, and I busy myself pouring both of them some water.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What were you thinking?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t. After you left the hotel, I had a drink and went for a walk. I was trying to shake it off, you know? This anger at my grandfather. But I couldn’t. It was eating at me. So I went down to San Diego —”

“You what?”

“I know, I know. But, yeah. I confronted the bastard. And you know what? He admitted everything.” Ash shakes his head. “Lying to me about you all these years. The videos and texts. Hiring someone to sneak in and tape a note to the portrait. All of it. He said he was a weak man and that you’d never loved him, and that I was his second chance.”

He shudders, and I feel cold. That’s the same, manipulative Jeremiah Stark who’s shown himself so many times to Damien, and I can’t tell yet if Ash realizes that, too, or if he bought Jeremiah’s bullshit.

Then I see him draw in a breath and look Damien in the eye. “I saw it all then. The lies. The manipulation.” He scoffs. “It’s like I’d been wearing rose colored glasses, but I’m damn sure not anymore.”

“So what did you do?” I ask.

“I left. I told him he was a prick and I needed time to think, and then I just left. I drove around for a while, but I wanted more. So I went to the track.” He looks to Damien. “You know that track in the Palisades? I know the owner,” he adds after Damien nods. “And I keep a car garaged there. Have twenty-four hour access. A perk from my years behind the wheel.”

“That was reckless.”

Ash lifts his arm, now in plaster. “You think?” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t reckless. It was downright stupid. I haven’t raced professionally since that first accident, but I opened her up on that empty track anyway. A tire blew, and I spun out. If I’d been in a better headspace, maybe I could have corrected. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter, since I ended up here. I’m just grateful one of the maintenance guys was on site. He called the ambulance.”

“We’re grateful, too,” I tell him, and he shoots me a smile. “How long do you have to stay here?”

“Overnight.” He taps his head. “Apparently someone needs to monitor me.”

“I think we can do better than that,” Damien says, and within fifteen minutes, Ash is discharged with instructions to stay the night at our house, where Damien, Bree, Gregory, and I will take turns waking him up every few hours until he’s out of the woods with the concussion.

“Are you sure?” Ash asks. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Damien says.

Ash draws in a breath, then looks from Damien to me. “I’m not a man who breaks easily. But I have to say, I don’t know how to handle this. Seeing you here, caring about me, going out of your way for me. And me knowing how wrong I’ve gotten it for so many years.”

“I get it,” Damien says, moving to hold his uninjured hand. “You’re a good man, Ash. And you’re part of the family. I guess you’ll just have to learn how to deal with that.”

To my relief, Ash laughs. And his smile is a little watery when he says, “Thank you. Thank you both.”

It doesn’t take long to get his discharge papers, and soon enough we’re heading toward Malibu. The only downside is that the kids haven’t been prepared for this. Anne and Bradley are too young to question, but Lara’s already confused by what she heard Ash say at the vow renewal.

Gregory’s given them the head’s up that someone will be staying in one of the guest bedrooms, and Bree is outside with Anne and Bradley when we arrive. Lara, however, races toward us as we enter the house, then stops when she sees Ash.

“You’re the man from Mommy and Daddy’s ceremony.”

Ash shuffles his feet. “Yeah. That wasn’t my finest moment. And you’re Lara.”

She nods, then narrows her eyes at him. “Is Daddy really your daddy?”

“I am,” Damien says as she crosses her arms in full-on diva mode. “And that makes Ash your brother,” he continues.

“But you’re a grown-up,” she accuses Ash. “That can’t be right.”

“It’s a math thing,” Ash tells her. “You like math?”

Lara nods.

“Me, too. Maybe we can work some puzzles later. Want to?”

I meet Damien’s eyes, and we share a moment of pleasant surprise as Lara says, “Okay.”

“You want to show me to my room?” he asks, and she bounces with glee, then takes his hand. Ash has no luggage, so Damien and I linger, letting Ash and Lara have their own moment.

“I can’t believe how fast things have turned around with him,” I say. “I’m glad, too. I genuinely like him.”

“Me, too,” Damien says. “But what the hell was he doing racing like that?”

“Yeah,” I say, staring my husband down. “How could he possibly lose his temper and fly off the handle. I wonder where he gets that?” I smile sweetly, then watch as Damien lifts his hand in surrender.

I hear Lara chattering before we actually see them return. She’s going a mile a minute, telling Ash about the house and Sunshine and her dance lessons and on and on. He shoots us an amused glance as they pass, and Lara drags him outside to meet Bradley, Anne, and Bree.

“Should we invite Jackson and Syl over?” Damien asks.

I shake my head. “Tomorrow, maybe. He must be achy from the crash—we need to tell Lara that he needs rest—so I don’t think we should overwhelm him with relatives too soon.”

“You’re right. I’m just....” He trails off, shaking his head. “I guess I’m happy. And I want him to feel comfortable with us. With all of us.”

I tug him to a stop and slide into his arms. “I like you happy.”

He kisses me sweetly. “I’m sorry if this has been hard on you.” He brushes my hair behind my ear. “I’ve been counting on you being right beside me, but I don’t think I’ve paid enough attention to how surreal this must be for you.”

“It’s a little surreal,” I admit. “But in a good way. And it’s only been hard for me because you had to struggle through it.”

“I have a son, Nikki. A son that isn’t ours.”

I step back, feigning shock. “Really? Because it seems to me that you’ve told me more than once that everything you have is mine, too.”

He laughs. “So I did.”

“In that case,” I say. “We have a son. Two of them. And two daughters. And it’s all good, Mr. Stark.”

“I love you,” he says, then pulls me close and kisses me.

“Mommy and Daddy kiss a lot,” Lara says, and I pull away to find her and Ash back in the first floor living area.

“That’s because they like each other,” Ash says.

“Yeah,” Lara says. “Do you like anybody?”

I think I see a shadow cross Ash’s eyes, but all he says is, “Not at the moment.” Then he clears his throat, and looks at us. “The kids suggested that since I’m supposed to chill, that they play in the pool and we relax on the lounge chairs.”

“Did they?”

“You always say it’s relaxing,” Lara says. “And we haven’t had pool time in days.”

I look toward the door to see Bree nod, signaling that she’s fine supervising in the pool.

“Go change, then. We’ll meet you out there. And you can show Ash all your tricks.”

Lara calls to Anne and the two race off together as Bree snags Bradley to go take care of getting him in his suit.

“They’re fabulous,” Ash says. “All three of them. And that son of a bitch stole them from me. I swear, I could kill him for that.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Damien says. “Your uncle and I have both spent some terrifying hours on the wrong side of a murder charge.”

“My uncle. Holy shit. Jackson Steele’s my uncle.” He aims a sheepish grin at Damien. “I’m a fan. Would love to see him design a car.”

“You’ll meet him soon,” I tell him. “In the meantime, you’re not allowed to drink alcohol. So what’s your poolside poison? Water? Tea? Soda?”

“Tea’s great,” he says, then follows Damien to the patio as I head upstairs to get some sunscreen and the drinks.

By the time I get back down, Ryan’s walking in the front door. “Damien’s on the patio,” I say, then see his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you when I tell Damien,” he says. “He alone?”

“Ash is with him.”

Ryan pauses. “Ashton Stone?”

I nod. “Long story. The short version is things are better between them, but he wrecked his car racing last night. Damien told him some unpleasant family history and he—”

“Wanted to burn off steam,” Ryan says, finishing my sentence. “Yeah. I imagine he did that right after he killed Jeremiah Stark.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Damien’s voice explodes from the open patio door, and I look up to see Damien and Ash standing there.

Ryan visibly sags, his attention going to Ash. “Hell of a way to formally meet,” he says. “I’m Ryan Hunter. I’m—”

“Head of Security for Stark International. I know. What the hell did you just say about me and Jeremiah?”

“Jeremiah’s dead,” Ryan says flatly. “And according to the coroner, time of death is right about the time your image shows up on Jeremiah’s doorbell camera.”

“That’s crazy,” Ash says. “I mean, yes, I went to see him. To tell him what a total shit he was, but I didn’t kill the man.”

“Ash, sit,” I say. “You’re not well.”

He scowls, but does as I say, then turns to face Damien. “I swear I didn’t hurt him. Damien, you have to believe me.”

Damien draws a breath, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ, this is on me,” he mutters.

“What?” I ask, but he shakes his head, his attention on Ryan.

“I need speak with you,” he says, then heads outside with Ryan beside him.

“I swear I didn’t kill him,” Ash says to me. “He doesn’t believe me, and why should he? He doesn’t even know me.”

“He does know you,” I say. “And he believes you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I press a hand to his shoulder. “Because I know Damien.”