One True Thing (30 page)

told the sisters, Connie and Larissa, that I could

never afford it. They waved me off and said it was

still on the house. It was off season and they were

empty, but I still thought it was awfully nice of

them.

“I do like it. What do you want to do with me

now that you have me here?” Dusty wiggled his

eyebrows.

“I made dinner reservations, and maybe

afterward a long soak in the tub would be nice.

And then….” I smiled.

Dusty chuckled. “I like the ‘and then’ part the

best.”

“Me too.” I kissed his nose. “There is

something

else,

though.

Not

tonight,

but

tomorrow.” I cringed inwardly.

“What is it? There’s not a porn shoot, is

there? ‘Passion on the Vine’ or something?”

I laughed at that. “No. Not even close.”

Dusty cocked his head. “You gonna tell me

what it is?”

“Well,” I hedged. “There is someone who

lives in these parts who really wants to meet you.”

“Meet me? Why?”

I squeezed my eyes closed for a second.

“Because she’s my mother, and I told her I had a

boyfriend.”

“Awwww, Ash. You want to take me to meet

your parents?” Dusty’s eyes got huge and liquid.

“Yeah.” I said it quietly. “My dad’s pretty

low-key, but my mom might smother you with

enthusiasm a little.”

“That’s okay.” He smiled and swatted at me.

“You should’ve said something. I would have

brought better clothes.”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about that. Rue packed

your bag.”

Dusty twined his fingers around my neck and

kissed me long and hard. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Bringing me here. Introducing me to your

family.
Wanting
to introduce me to your family. I

love it.”

I was embarrassed, pleased, happy to be

exactly where I was right then. I hugged him close.

“Hey, it’s a gorgeous night. Do you want to take a

walk around the vineyard before we head out for

dinner?”

“Sure.” He took my hand like we’d been

doing it for years instead of only a couple of short

months.

It was cool in the vineyard, but beautiful. The

vines were bare, slightly gangly, and a bit creepy

in the moonlight. Dusty and I wandered up and

down between the rows and through the small but

lovely herb garden. I vowed to bring him back in

the summer when the fruit was sweet and heavy on

the vines and everything was sleepy, green, and

blooming. It was where I’d grown up, and I loved

having Dusty there.

The next day was a bit more nerve-wracking.

It wasn’t that I thought my parents wouldn’t like

Dusty. He was wonderful, and my mom just

wanted me to be happy. My dad mostly just wanted

to tinker around in his garden and build things in

the shed. He did really well with me and Archer

dating men, but he wasn’t the type to get in the

middle of it.

Dusty fidgeted as we pulled off the main

winding road into my parents’ long drive. We’d

lived out in the country, driving into town for

school and to hang out with friends. For a while,

there was nothing but trees. Not much to see. Then

we turned the corner, and his mouth dropped open.

“You grew up
here
?”

It was a little embarrassing. I smiled, though.

“Yeah.” The place was idyllic, when viewed

through a stranger’s eyes. My parents’ house

wasn’t huge, but it was a gingerbread Victorian,

decked out with tons of fancy trim work, painted in

various greens and golds, and surrounded by the

fruits of my dad’s efforts. To me it was just home.

“It’s like, out of a fairytale or something.”

“My parents spend a lot of time on it. It’s kind

of their hobby.” Just then, the front door flew open,

and my mother came barreling down the front

stairs. “Here we go,” I muttered. My mother was

going to adore Dusty. It might get a bit sugary.

“Hi, baby! And you must be Dusty. Asher was

right. You
are
adorable.”

“Mom, I didn’t call him adorable.”

Embarrassing.
I wouldn’t even call him that to

myself. Sexy, yes. Gorgeous, damn yes… but

adorable?

“I promise I won’t tell anyone else.” She

winked theatrically to Dusty, who giggled and

elbowed me. Hugs were given all around then,

even to my surprised and slightly flustered

boyfriend. “Come in. I made pie, and there’s water

on for tea.”

We hung out with my mom for hours. She and

Dusty were scary with how well they got along

together. She brought out all the bearskin rug

pictures, the kind I swear every parent takes to

torture their children with once they’re adults. We

ate pie and drank tea. My dad surfaced just long

enough to shake Dusty’s hand; then he disappeared

back into his shed to work on whatever it was he

was always doing out there. It was an easy

afternoon. Just another click, another part of Dusty

fitting into my life, like I’d been fitting into his. It

gave me butterflies in my chest.

“I can’t believe your mom made me a scarf.

She’s so cute.” Dusty flopped down on the bed in

our room at the B&B with the scarf wrapped

around his neck. It was black and purple striped,

and on him it was super long… and, well.

Adorable. I sat next to him and snuck my hand up

under his shirt.

“Are you going to break up with me for her?”

Dusty rolled around until he could put his

head in my lap. He looked up at me with big, goofy

doe eyes. “Can’t I have you both?”

“I guess. Jeez.” I sighed loudly, then leaned

over to kiss him. “I love you so much.” Awkward

silence.
Shit! Idiot.
“I’m sorry. I so didn’t mean

for it to come out like that. You don’t have to say

anything. Damn.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey.” Dusty reached up and pulled me back

down.

I looked away. “I feel stupid.”

“Asher, don’t.
Don’t
feel stupid. It was

perfect. I was just surprised there for a second.

You have to know I love you too. I’m just always

the one who jumps in too soon and pushes the other

guy away. I didn’t want to do that to you. I want to

keep you for as long as I possibly can.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting to feel like this since

I was a kid and I used to sneak my mom’s romance

novels.” I laughed quietly. “But all those books?

They didn’t get it right. Not even close.”

And there I was, all choked up. Dusty always

knew exactly what to say. “I do love you,” I

whispered. “Like crazy heat and lightning, but like

warmth and comfort too. I feel all of it.”

“I do too.”

Chapter Thirteen

Dusty

GOD, what a great weekend.

It had been wonderful, really. A surprise

romantic getaway at a gorgeous little bed and

breakfast? No one had ever done anything like that

for me. Aside from the scramble to reschedule

clients after Asher appeared at Embellish to

swoop me up, everything had been absolutely

perfect. Wandering through the garden and

vineyard, meeting his parents, just being able to

spend a couple of nights together alone. That last

part most of all.

I loved living with Rue and Erik, but things

had gotten a little crowded with Asher added into

the mix. I was sure they wanted their privacy as

much as we wanted ours, but it wasn’t as if I could

afford a nice place in West Hollywood or LA on

my salary, not without a roommate at least, so

moving into an apartment would kind of defeat the

purpose anyway. And as far as the possibility of

sharing a place with Asher, well, I wasn’t going to

bring that up. No matter how much I liked the idea.

Less than three months was too soon for moving in

together, right?

Right. Way too soon.
Except… I didn’t only

like the idea of living with Asher. I sort of loved

it. I wouldn’t be the first to mention it, though. I

hadn’t been lying when I’d told Asher I was

usually the first one to rush in emotionally, and that

had driven more than one guy away.

“Hey,” Asher said. He reached across the

Volkswagen’s center console and grabbed my

hand. “You’re so quiet over there. What are you

thinking about?”

I laced my fingers with his and smiled at him.

We were almost halfway home but still had nearly

three and a half hours of driving to go. Even so,

we’d be back in WeHo by early evening, traffic

willing, with plenty of time to get unpacked and

settled before bed. He had a 9 a.m. shoot the

following day, and I started work at ten, but that

was okay. I had a feeling the blissful, floaty wave I

was riding would carry me through the week.

“Not much. You. Me. Us.” I squeezed his

hand lightly. “Thank you so much for this weekend.

I loved every minute. And your parents were

awesome. I’m so glad I got to meet them.”

He returned the pressure of my grip and

tossed a quick grin my way. “My mom loved you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” His mom had

been a total sweetheart. I was wearing the scarf

she’d made for me, even though the temperature

didn’t really call for it. I’d never met a boyfriend’s

parents before, let alone gotten a gift from one of

them. I hadn’t been quite ready to part with it when

we’d started packing.

“Dust… can I ask you something?”

I turned in the passenger seat to face him, my

eyes tracing the elegant line of his profile as he

watched the road.
So beautiful.
Maybe love had

blinded me, but there wasn’t a flaw on him that I

could see. I had no idea how I’d gotten so lucky.

“Sure.”

“Well, the first time we talked, you mentioned

you weren’t on speaking terms with your parents,

but… you never talk about them. Or any family

aside from Erik, Alice, and Rue. Like ever. What

happened? I mean… did they cut you off or

something?”

I sighed softly. My parents weren’t exactly

my favorite topic. I hadn’t spoken to them in years

—by their choice—but I’d figured Asher would

probably ask for the story eventually.

“There isn’t really all that much to tell,” I

said with a slight shrug. “I had a decent childhood.

I realized I was gay when I was twelve, came out

to them when I was fourteen, and after that,

everything changed.”

“Why?” he asked. “Religious stuff?”

I shook my head. “No. My parents are the

types of Catholics who only put in appearances at

church for weddings and funerals. There wasn’t

any talk of brimstone and hellfire or anything like

that. It was just… like I didn’t exist anymore.”

Asher’s fingers tightened around mine. “What

do you mean?”

“They got… cold,” I said, remembering.

“They ignored me. They kept me away from my

little sister.” And there it was, the all-too-familiar

ache that always came along with my memories of

her. “To this day, I don’t know why. It wasn’t as if

the gay would rub off on her, right? But that was

the hardest part. Definitely. My sister… we were

really close. She had problems with anxiety, and

she was diagnosed with ADHD when she was

five. I was eleven then, and I learned to help her