Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(78)

He shook his head. This wasn’t the day to be worrying about that. In any case, he wasn’t allowed to wallow in his thoughts for long. Partygoers continuously came up and fussed over Guinevere. Some eyed Ashby’s outfit warily. Others were brave enough to compliment him on it. Ashby felt content in a whirlwind of people.

The bar was packed and the restaurant had been re-arranged to have a buffet for the guests. The new décor was a slick and sophisticated scheme with electric blues and metallic finishes. They had officially renamed the place Summit, and Darnell was busy wowing patrons with his impressive mixology skills, making drinks from their newly revamped and extensive cocktail list.

Kadie was sitting at the bar cheering him on every time he threw up a spinning bottle or set something on fire. After a month’s hard work on Ashby’s part, she had finally asked Darnell out. As Ashby predicted, Darnell didn’t care that she was ten years older than him. He’d been too shy to ask her out. By the looks of it, they were very happy together.

Bob was looking like a new man, attending the party with his son who was looking healthy and happy. Bob had lost ten pounds and got a haircut. No longer did he drown his sorrows at the bar every night. He and Ashby had worked their arses off to improve almost every aspect of the resort. Painters and decorators had been working around the clock to modernize every single room. The spa was expanding and now had several luxury suppliers that Skye had cried over when she’d tried the products. The gift shop had been cleared out and was now selling beautiful and charming items from local businesses, most of which were Arapaho.

It made Ashby’s heart swell to see Trent and his dad rebuilding their relationship. Ashby had tentatively made plans with his own parents to come over and visit at Christmas so they could meet each other. It seemed crazy that he was thinking that far ahead. They had never even met Gordon in the two years Ashby had been with him. But that was the difference with Trent. He knew they had a future together. They made each other so incredibly happy.

Trent loved Ashby for exactly who he was. He never tried to change him or force him into a box. He loved Ashby no matter what he was wearing. He was helping him work through his anxieties and making sure his confidence grew every day. It didn’t hurt that Ashby had never had better sex in his whole life. Their obvious chemistry in the bedroom alone was enough to give him faith that this was a long-term thing.

It wasn’t just fucking, though. It was communication, and that was why it made Ashby so sure of their compatibility. Trent still wasn’t all that great at using his words. But when those failed him, he used his hands, his lips, his whole body. He never took Ashby for granted, always making sure he was happy and getting what he needed, in and out of the bedroom.

“What are you smiling about?” Maeve asked. She’d snuck up on Ashby as he was fussing with the fresh flower arrangements.

He arched an eyebrow down at Guinevere. “Some guard dog you are,” he said. She was already scrabbling at Maeve’s legs though, looking for the treats she always carried in her pockets.

“Nah-uh,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “You had goo-goo eyes. Were you thinking about your handsome man?”

“Maybe,” Ashby said with a grin. “Were you thinking about your handsome man?”

Maeve tutted as she fed Guinevere too many treats as usual. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said haughtily. Ashby sniggered.

“Well, both our men just walked in, in case you’re interested?” he teased. She snapped around and looked where Trent was walking into the bar with his dad who had Merlin on a leash. As much as his behavior had improved, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Is my lipstick okay?” she asked in a whisper.

“Smile,” Ashby instructed. “Yep. Nothing on your teeth. You’re good. Not that you care,” he added with a wink.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, fluffing her hair, then smiling over at Mr. Charles Sr.

She went to go greet him while Trent made his way over to Ashby. He was stopped several times by people wanting to say hello and wish him good luck. Ashby waited patiently, though. He used the opportunity to get two glasses of Champagne for them and sit at the small table for two he’d reserved for them. Guinevere trotted by his feet and had a good sniff around the table legs while they waited for Trent to join them. Ashby reapplied his lip gloss and tried not to feel nervous. God, he was going to miss seeing Trent every day.

“Hey,” Trent said. He leaned down to kiss Ashby on the cheek before shrugging off his leather jacket and sitting next to him. “Sorry to keep you.”

Ashby shook his head. “You’re the man of the hour,” he said. He picked up the two flutes and passed one to Trent. He was looking ruggedly handsome as usual in a Henley that clung to every delicious, bulging muscle. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Trent agreed. They tapped their glasses together, the ‘ting’ ringing through the air. Ashby had hired a harpist for the evening and people were chatting easily over the music. It meant he and Trent didn’t have to shout to hear each other.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, squashing down the apprehension in his belly. Trent might have been leaving tomorrow, but it wasn’t for long and they would talk every day.

Trent bit his lip. “Nervous,” he said.

Ashby tilted his head in confusion. “About flying?” he asked.