Dream Girl

Chapter Twenty-One

Zach stroked Ashlyn's cheek tenderly, her skin velvety and warm.

"You're so beautiful,” he whispered in awe. “So generous, so honest.” He swallowed, and the words he'd been holding back spilled out. “I love you, Ashlyn."

She stared at him, those incredible greeny-gold sparkling eyes wide with ... what? Dismay? Shock?

He closed his eyes momentarily, overcome by how vulnerable he had just made himself. But since when had it ever mattered to him how foolish he looked?

It mattered now.

It mattered more than anything. More than his family. More than his business. More than his next breath.

"Oh, Zach,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes.

"You can't tell me you don't feel it too,” he said urgently, his fingertips still stroking her smooth cheek, her lush mouth. “Not after that."

She was still silent, clearly struggling.

"Tell me, Ashlyn."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh shit. Ashlyn, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry.” He brushed the tears away. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have rushed it. I just..."

Shut the fuck up, idiot, he told himself.

"I can't believe I'm crying. What a girl I am lately."

"I'm glad you're a girl,” he said fervently. She smiled.

"I do love you, Zach."

He met her eyes and saw love and tenderness, but something squeezed tight in his chest, because he also saw the faint shadow of fear there. His gut knotted.

"What?” he asked slowly.

She shook her head. “I do love you,” she said. “I'm just so afraid..."

"What are you afraid of?"

She closed her eyes, her lips pressed together. “I don't even know if I can explain,” she said. “I know this can't last, and I'm afraid we're both going to get hurt."

"What do you mean it can't last? Why would you say that when we're just getting started?"

He was a little ticked off.

"Nothing lasts, Zach,” she whispered. “I see it all the time."

"You think I'll cheat on you."

"It happens."

That hurt like a bitch. But he sensed there was more she wasn't telling him. Anger and disappointment rose within him.

"I gotta tell you, Ash,” he said slowly. “If you can't trust me, you don't really love me."

"Oh, please,” she said. “Don't give me that. That is so trite. People fall in love all the time with people they know they can't trust. And anybody who totally trusts someone else is just stupid or naïve."

"You don't really believe that,” he said, drawing back. She didn't meet his eyes.

"Don't, Zach,” she said. “You shouldn't trust me either."

"What!” He was astounded. “What the hell does that mean?"

She lifted a bare shoulder, still studying the duvet cover. “It means what it means.” Her mouth tightened stubbornly.

"This is fucking bizarre,” he growled, and then flopped onto his back beside her. He covered his eyes with one arm as he pondered this.

Trust. Love. He truly believed that if you loved someone you trusted her implicitly. With your life.

Maybe he was a naïve sap. He'd had his trust betrayed a few times. But he couldn't live his life always expecting to be kicked in the teeth. And he didn't believe that's how Ashlyn wanted to live her life.

He knew the impact Ashlyn's job and her family had had on her. But it wasn't hopeless. He could show her that not only was trust important and necessary, it was in her. He knew it was. His faith in her—maybe stupid misplaced faith—was absolute. Because he loved her.

His head was starting to hurt, but he had a crazy, risky idea.

He rolled over and took her mouth gently, lingeringly, holding her to him, wanting to show her she could trust.

"I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

"We just did that,” she protested weakly, breathlessly, her lips seeking his again.

"That was before. Now I'm really making love to you. Not fucking you or screwing you. I'm loving you."

"Oh Zach.” Her eyes squeezed closed; then she opened them and blinked rapidly. “I do love you. So much."

When he moved to enter her, he paused. “I want to feel you, Ashlyn. Skin to skin. But I don't want to put you at risk."

"It's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think I'll get pregnant right now. And I know you wouldn't do it if there was any other risk."

"Yes.” He slid into her, triumph swelling in him. He slid in and out of her slick sheath of hot, wet velvet, her muscles clenching him, making slow tender love to her. It felt incredible as he poured himself into her, hot and reckless.

The phone rang a few times before Zach managed to unwrap himself from around Ashlyn's warm body and fumble for it beside the bed.

"Yeah?” he mumbled. Then, “Jesus, Connor, it's eight o'clock on Saturday morning. What the hell are you calling about?” He paused. “Yeah, she's here."

Ashlyn rolled onto her back, her eyes still closed, vaguely aware of the conversation. She felt Zach grow still beside her as he listened and talked, his body tensing.

"She did what?” He listened again at length. “No way.” Silence again. “She did it again? Jesus, what's her problem?"

Ashlyn forced her eyes open, blinking, and raised up on one elbow, putting a hand on Zach's warm, flat abdomen. He glanced at her, an odd expression on his face, and slid out from under her hand to sit on the side of the bed, his back to her.

"Holy shit,” he said, his voice low and dark. He cursed again. Ashlyn started to get a bad feeling about this conversation. She sat up, pulling the covers over her breasts, her heart starting to beat rapidly.

"It was Melissa?” Silence again as he listened. Ashlyn was confused. What about Melissa?

"'Kay,” Zach said tightly. “Son of a bitch.” He hung up and tossed the phone down. He sat there with his back to her for a painfully long moment.

"Zach,” Ashlyn whispered. “What is it?"

He stood and went to pick up a pair of jeans lying over the arm of the chair in the corner. He stepped into them and zipped them up, not bothering with the button. Then he rubbed his face and ran his hands through his golden hair, leaving it spiked in all directions.

He turned to her, and her heart dropped at the look on his face—tight anger and pain.

"You...” he began, and stopped.

Wide-eyed, she watched him.

"That night we met, you were on a job,” he finally said, stunned disbelief in his voice. “You thought I was Connor."

Shit. It was hitting the fan now. Jessica had apparently decided to confess to Connor, and he'd felt it necessary to tell Zach.

"Yes,” she whispered.

His hurt-filled dark eyes looked at her. “Another lie,” he said accusingly, his voice frighteningly soft. “I am such an idiot. That's what you meant last night."

"No!” Ashlyn leaned forward, clutching the sheet to her. “You're not an idiot."

He shook his head, not really listening.

"That's why you disappeared,” he said slowly. “You had no intention of going anywhere with me. Not because you were afraid. Because you were just acting.” He walked closer to the bed. “The night I ran into you at the Bonaventure?"

"Another job,” she whispered, her throat tight and aching. “I was there to meet up with another guy."

"I must have put a crimp in your plans,” he said bitterly. “I can't believe I thought you were really interested in me."

"I was interested in you!"

"Oh come on. You've told me how you get guys interested ... you did that to me. It wasn't real. This whole relationship has been based on a lie—a deception."

"It was real!” she cried. “What I felt was real! But I couldn't tell you, Zach. It would have violated my client's privacy. Jessica's privacy. She hired me. I can't go around telling people that, even though it's been killing me ever since.” She paused, gulping for air. “I know you don't like my job,” she said, a little desperately. “But I thought we got past that the other night?"

He just stared at her. “That's not the point,” he said, eyes narrowed. “When did you know I wasn't Connor?” Then he answered his own question. “The day we came to your dad's office.” He nodded. “No wonder you looked so pole-axed."

She thought she'd hidden it better than that.

"I thought it was just because you were surprised to see me again,” he said. He rubbed his face. “This is too much.” Then he had another thought. “But you know what's even worse? You found out you fucked up, and you didn't tell Jessica."

Shame swept over her, hot and uncomfortable. “I did tell her,” she said, looking down. “I tried to tell her sooner, but she was out of town."

He looked at her skeptically, and that look from him, so trusting of everyone, was like a jagged blade ripping her heart. “It's true,” she said defensively. “I found out that Friday, and I tried to call her Monday. She was out of town that whole week. I couldn't tell her until last week.” She took a deep breath. “The only reason I didn't call her right away was because of ... us. What was happening with us. That was real, Zach."

He laughed shortly. “Christ, after our conversation last night, this is ironic. I'm trying to convince you to trust me, have faith in me, and meanwhile you were right. I'm the fucking idiot who obviously trusts too easily."

She looked at him sadly. What could she say? She knew from his perspective it looked bad, but she really couldn't have done anything differently. Other than tell Jessica sooner, and who knew? Jessica could have left on her trip Friday, meaning that was truly the earliest she could have told her.

"You almost destroyed my brother's marriage,” he said thickly. “You saw how miserable he was, and you had the ability to make it better."

She nodded, a lump the size of a billiard ball aching in her throat. How many times could she say it? She couldn't have told Connor the truth. He didn't seem to get that.

"That's even worse than lying to me.” The harsh tone of his voice and the anger in his eyes made her afraid, and she slowly got out of bed, intensely aware of her nakedness. Humiliated, she had to go out to the living room to find all her clothes. She dragged them on as quickly as she could, given that her brain and body functioned at less-than-optimal levels in the morning. What a rude awakening this had been. Literally.

When dressed, she turned around and found he'd followed her. Was this it, then? She'd always known this was going to happen. She was the one who'd been an idiot, to have let things go on and develop between them to the extent they had.

"What ... what did Connor say about Melissa?” she asked, not sure why she cared at this moment, but curious.

Zach rubbed his face again. “Shit. Melissa apparently had a crush on Connor a few months back. She started phoning him at home. That's what started this whole mess. He swears nothing happened, but Jessica got paranoid. I can't believe it."

There was silence, and then she finally said, “I'm so sorry, Zach. I should never have gotten involved with you.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “I knew it was a bad idea right from the start. But I couldn't stop thinking about you—even when I thought you were married and willing to cheat on your wife! How sad is that! I'm the idiot, Zach, not you."

His face was hard, impassive.

"And the more I saw you and got to know you, the harder I knew it would be when this happened. Because I knew it would happen. But I had no idea it would hurt this much.” Her voice broke, and she blinked tears away, her vision blurred. “So I'm sorry,” she choked out. “It is all my fault. You're not an idiot, you're a wonderful, open man who sees the best in people and believes in them, and I love that about you. Please don't beat yourself up. And please don't change.” She met his eyes through a blur of tears. “I'm sorry."

She turned and left, finding her purse on the floor near the front door where she'd dropped it last night. She had to get out of there before she lost it completely.

Of course, she'd forgotten she had no car there. She sank down onto the front steps and buried her face in her arms on her knees. A sob escaped her. “Shit,” she moaned. After a couple of gasping sobs, she fumbled for her cell phone and called home.

Ben answered. “Can you come get me?” she asked with a pathetic sniff. “I'm at Zach's.” She gave him directions, hung up, and started walking to the end of his street. She glanced back at Zach's house. She couldn't believe he'd let her leave with no way to get home. Jerk. She sniffled, waiting for Ben in the cool morning, in her fluttery dress and heels.