Fixing Ashley by Melissa Gardener Read Free Book Online Page B

to be one day. Once the landscaping is done, it will be absolutely stunning. This is almost exactly what I want for myself, but I know I’ll have to wait, because there is no way in hell I can afford this one. Even if it is for sale, I can’t afford it. Not right now, anyway.
    But a man can dream. And I do. Closing my eyes, I imagine myself sitting on the back porch, drinking coffee and looking out onto the water as the sun rises and greets us. And then I think of Ashley, coming out the back door, wearing only my flannel shirt and holding a cup of coffee in her hands.
    “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I open my eyes. These dreams of mine feel as though they’re millions of miles away. Add Ashley to the equation and it’s as if I’ll never be able to reach them.
    With a final groan, I go inside the house and grab my list, ticking off what’s been done today. I notice one of those things is noted as “Talk to Ashley.” Sadly, I can’t tick this one off.
    Hopefully tomorrow. Maybe.
    . . .
     
    “Ma, I’m fine, I promise,” I say, once I’m inside her house. I haven’t been here in about a month and she keeps going on about me losing weight. Apparently, I’m not eating enough, which is strange because I’m sure I eat plenty.
    “You know, I’m sure Carole is a good cook and all, but you need to come eat with us once in a while, too.” Mom’s guilt trips are epic and so is her chicken pot pie.
    I run a hand through my hair. “We broke up, Ma.”
    “He couldn’t handle Stalker McStalkerson,” Mitchel teases as he walks inside the house. It’s Dad’s birthday and Mom has invited us over for a surprise birthday dinner.
    I roll my eyes and look at Mom’s raised eyebrows. “That wasn’t why I — ”
    “Look, I don’t need to know the details, honey, but you could have told me.” Her no-nonsense way about things is what I love about her, but it’s also what I hate. I know she wasn’t attached to Carole, but she’s made it no secret how she would love for me to settle down.
    “I know, I’m sorry, Ma. I just didn’t think about it,” I explain, making sure to bring out some of the charm I know she loves so much.
    She puts a hand on my cheek and asks, “Are you okay, though?” Her eyebrows are pinched together, and the concern in her eyes is exactly what I was afraid of. She shouldn’t feel sorry for me. Not really.
    “I’m not upset, actually.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her in for a hug. I’m a mama's boy, and I’d hate for her to think I’m bothered by the breakup. “Trust me, Ma. I’m great. Carole and I were just not meant to be together, is all.”
    She tightens her hold on me for a few moments, then pulls out of my embrace, her hand going back to my cheek and her eyes focused on my face. “You’re my baby, you know? I only want you to be happy, sweetie.”
    Just as she says this, Mitchel comes back outside with a couple bottles of beers in his hands. “He’s got a crush on his boss lady.” He laughs and hands me one. “And from what I gather, she’s not pushing him away, either.”
    “Asshol e — shut up, man.” I shove him some and open my bottle, giving a good swig while that brother of mine laughs his ass off.
    “Language, boys,” Mom reprimands, steppinginside the house. The amount of times we’ve heard her say those exact words escapes me. At my age, it makes me smil e — memories of me and Mitchel as little kids, running through my mind.
    “Mom’s got a point though, bro,” Mitchel says, when we take a seat next to the barbecue. I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean it’s any of his business. It’s actually none of anyone’s business. They may all mean well, but my ass is too stubborn to listen to any of them, something they should already know.
    Eliza, Mitchel’s wife, who also happens to be Brad’s sister, is inside the house setting up some sort of dessert. I’m happy to be relegated to barbecue watch out here rather than subjected to