I let her nipple drop from my lips with a soft pop.

Her plea strikes my heart. My soul.

And my cock is more than willing. I nudge my cockhead over her folds and then enter her, determined to go slowly.

Once I hit balls deep, my body shudders, quivers, as if all of me, not just my dick, is gloved within her heat.

I wrap my arms around her and pull us both onto our sides, still joined. I look down between our bodies, at my dick submarined inside her. I pull out slowly, gritting my teeth so I don’t go too fast. I watch myself emerge and then bury again inside her warmth.

God, it’s beautiful, our bodies coming together.

Then I meet her gaze. “Open your eyes, Ashley.”

She obeys, and our gazes meet.

“Look at me,” I say. “Look at me as I make love to you slowly. Never take your eyes from mine.”

Her blue eyes sparkle, even in the darkness of our bedroom in the dead of night.

So much love is reflected back at me.

So much…

“Look at me,” I say again, “and see how much I love you.”

“Your eyes,” she replies. “They’re playing that joyful music. The green music, Dale. So beautiful.”

“Together, we are music, Ashley. The most beautiful tune ever written.”

I slide in and out, going slowly as well as I can.

But soon, I no longer have the control. I need her, and I go faster, savoring every ridge inside her pussy. Every touch of her flesh to mine. Every look from her gorgeous baby blues as I thrust harder, harder, harder…

“I love you, Ashley. Always. I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too.” Her words come out on a moaning sigh. “Always.”

I hear the truth in her words, but she doesn’t hear the truth in mine.

For though the words are far from a lie, they’re also something else.

They’re goodbye.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Ashley

I wake with a smile on my face, the sun streaming in through the east window in Dale’s—our—bedroom. I reach for my husband but find his side of the bed empty.

Of course he’s gone. It’s late. I should have been up hours ago. He’s no doubt at the winery, checking on his old-vine Syrah. Timing is critical.

Except…

The horror that Talon and Ryan revealed rises to my surface. Last night was so beautiful between Dale and me. I let myself forget, for those few timeless moments, what he’s been through. What must haunt him every day of his life.

I breathe in deeply. I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Penny must be outside. Otherwise she’d be in here rousing me out of bed. I rise, don a robe, and walk to the kitchen. I’m parched, but a tall glass of OJ will take care of that. After letting a tail-wagging Penny in through the French doors, I gulp down some juice and call Mom. Maybe it’ll get my mind off Dale’s past.

“Hey, honey,” she says.

“Just checking in. How are you doing?”

“One day at a time. I talked to the attorney Dale set me up with. She thinks we can get through probate fairly quickly, even without a will, since I have a valid marriage certificate. As long as Dennis’s mother doesn’t contest it.”

“Why would she?”

“I have no idea.” Mom sighs. “I don’t even know the woman.”

Of course she doesn’t. Mom and Dennis eloped without telling anyone after dating for six months. Dennis’s mother could be a sweetheart or a shrew. After her behavior at the funeral, I’m thinking shrew. Still, Mom has the upper hand.

“You’ll get through it,” I say.

“I suppose so.” Her tone is wistful.

“Just say the word, and I’ll be right there.”

“I know that, honey, but your place is with your new husband.”

“Mom, I—” I stop abruptly.

Dale walks into the kitchen. Strange. I didn’t hear him come in. Penny whisks around his ankles. He leans down and pets her absently.

Then he meets my gaze.

I swallow. Something’s wrong.

“Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you back, okay?”

“Is anything wrong?”

“Everything’s fine.” I end the call.

Everything’s fine.

I just lied to my mother.

It’s written all over Dale’s face.

Everything is most assuredly not fine.

I inhale. Stand tall, though my husband dwarfs me.

His hair is a mass of blond surrounding his perfectly sculpted face. His green eyes pierce me with coldness. No longer do they play the jubilant songs. No, the green is menacing. It’s an eerie solo violin, playing a melody of hell.

I chill all over and rub my upper arms. It does no good. This chill soaks me to my soul.

I’m not scared, exactly, though I do feel fear. Dale looks ominous, as if he’s just seen something terrifying, as if he’s ready to stand up to destruction.

As if he’s a storm rioting in for one purpose, though I don’t yet know what the purpose is. To put out a fire? To start a fire?

To create? Or to destroy?

A chilling breeze swirls through me. It’s my imagination, I know, but it’s so real. So cold and real.

I say nothing, just let his eyes pierce two freezing holes in my flesh.

Finally, he speaks.

“We need to talk.”

I hold back a gasp. His voice.

It’s no longer that gorgeous Syrah red that I love.

It’s darker. Nearing pure black in its opacity.

Where is my beautiful husband? Where is the terrified child he must have been? I see neither in the man before me.

We need to talk. Has anything good ever come from those four words?

I say nothing. I don’t move. I stand, as if those chills have actually frozen me.

And I wait.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Dale

My heart is breaking, but I steel myself. I have to do this for Ashley’s own good.

I have to, before that carefully constructed wall comes crashing down, and I destroy her.

“Ashley,” I say.

She inhales. “What?”

“This isn’t easy.”

“Spit it out, Dale. We both know it’s bad. Just get it over with before I throw up orange juice all over your kitchen.”