by Iris Morland
It was rare, however, that any heterosexual woman between the ages of twenty and forty-five ever considered his advances a nuisance. Ash wasn’t stupid: he knew what he looked like. He knew how to seduce a woman with words and heated looks. He knew that confidence and a few compliments could take any man a long way.
“Lucky for you,” he said as he waved to Reggie the bartender, “I’m never desperate. Now, are you going to tell me your name at least? Or will I have to make one up for you?”
“Oh dear, what names do you have in mind?”
He ordered his usual—a whiskey sour—and turned back to her. “I’m thinking Delilah. Or Jezebel.”
“Subtle. How Biblical of you, too.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the pale and delectable curve of her neck. “What if I said it was Gertrude?”
“Then I’d call you Gertrude like the gentleman I am.”
Her lips curved into a smile. Ash had been with many women, but there was something about this one that had intrigued him the moment he’d seen her staring at him.
He had thought this night would be like every other with his family and in-laws: crazy and loud. Tonight they celebrated his niece Bea’s second birthday; she was his older brother Trent’s daughter and the darling of the entire Younger clan. She was definitely the cutest, that was for sure.
Ash loved his family, which included his older siblings, Trent and Thea, along with his younger siblings, Phin and Lucy. Since their parents were both dead now, they’d had to stick together. Until Trent had reunited with his former girlfriend Lizzie and had finally married her. He’d never gotten Lizzie out of his head. Ash hadn’t been a fan of Lizzie for breaking his brother’s heart, but at least they were all happy now. Sometimes they were so happy that it made Ash’s teeth hurt.
Ash wasn’t meant for marriage. He’d known that since he was a kid. He’d seen what marriage—and love—did to a person when he’d watched his own mother fall apart from his father’s twisted type of love.
No, Ash didn’t do love. But sex? Yes, he did that very well.
“My name’s Violet.”
“Violet.” Ash couldn’t help but notice that she was leaning closer to him now. “It suits you.”
“I’m glad you think so, since it’s the only name I have.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It looks like your family is about to open presents. Is she yours?”
“Who? Bea? No, she’s my niece. The first one in the family, so everyone spoils her rotten.”
Violet smiled. “She’s adorable. I can’t blame you one bit.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You should probably get back to the party.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I would never be so rude.”
When she turned away from him, though, he got the message: he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. His own innate stubbornness made him want to stay and persuade her, coax her, make her laugh and blush. His more rational side, the same side that loved numbers, statistics, and algorithms, told him that he shouldn’t hedge his bets. Take this one as a loss. It happens to everyone.
But it didn’t happen to him. He was torn between amusement and annoyance and wasn’t sure which emotion would win out.
“Ash, there you are,” said his sister Thea as she same up to the bar. With her blond hair cut in a pixie and with a septum piercing, Thea looked like the lead singer of some rock band instead of a receptionist at a law office. “We’re opening presents, and yours is next.” Thea glanced at Violet with a raised eyebrow. “Although if you’re busy—”
Violet was still focused on her drink and seemed to have forgotten all about him. Ouch. “No, I’m not busy.”
Returning to the party, Ash drank his whiskey sour and got another as Bea ripped open her presents with undisguised glee. At two years old, she was more interested in the ribbons and wrapping paper than the toys and clothes. When Lizzie took a piece of ribbon from her that she was chewing on, Bea’s face screwed up and went bright red before she let out a wail that practically made the walls of the restaurant shake.
“Here’s your rabbit,” said Lizzie as she picked Bea up from the high chair and gave her her favorite stuffed animal. “Hush, baby.” She looked at Trent. “I think Bea’s had enough for tonight.”
Trent caressed Bea’s cheek as she continued crying and rubbing her face in her mother’s shoulder. Ash didn’t know a damn thing about babies, but even he could tell when one was completely exhausted and overstimulated.
Lizzie soothed Bea, and eventually the toddler fell asleep in her mother’s arms. Ash sat down next to Thea, across from whom sat Phin and Lucy. Phin worked as a lawyer in Portland, while Lucy was chasing her dreams of becoming an actress in Los Angeles.
Phin was the quiet brother who tended to avoid crowds, while Lucy was more like Ash, in that she lit up around people. She laughed and chatted with Abby and Megan Thornton, Lizzie’s sisters-in-law. Lucy was tall yet lithe, her hair a dark auburn. With her wide gray eyes and sharp cheekbones, she had been approached to do modeling jobs more than once, but she’d always turned them down because she wanted to be an actress and nothing else.
“Having fun?” Ash asked Phin from across the table. “You look miserable, bro.”
Phin’s mouth twisted. “‘Miserable’ is a bit hyperbolic.”
“Only you would use the word ‘hyperbolic’ in conversation.”
“That’s because Phin is the smartest of us all,” said Thea without any envy. “He did graduate from high school early.”
Phin didn’t deny this assertion, because he knew very well that he was intelligent. Ash had always admired his younger brother’s drive and focus. Ash had always been more of a will-o’-the-wisp in comparison. Hell, even Trent had settled down despite his aimless past: he’d since opened his three restaurants and now had a family.
Some days Ash didn’t recognize the siblings he’d known growing up. They’ve grown up, his logical side said. Maybe you should try it.
He tipped back his drink and swiftly shoved that thought aside.
“Will you hold Bea for a second?” Lizzie asked Thea. “She’s asleep, but I have to pee and Trent is making drinks—”
Thea was about to open her mouth when Ash interrupted. “I’ll take her.” At the women’s looks, he rolled his eyes. “Guys, I’ve held her before.”
“Yeah, but you don’t usually volunteer,” countered Thea.
“Don’t be sexist,” he joked as Lizzie gently handed Bea to him. The toddler murmured in her sleep before snuggling closer. She found her fist and began sucking her thumb, which Ash found beyond adorable but would never admit it.
“Hey, I’m all about men holding babies. They are fifty percent of the reason they happen,” said Thea as she brushed a hand over Bea’s dark curls. “She almost makes me want to have one of my own.”
“Not me,” said Lucy. “Babies put your life on hold.”
“We know you’re going to be a famous actress,” said Ash, “and besides, you’re what? Twenty-two?”
Lucy stuck out her tongue. “Twenty-three.”
“So, a baby. I don’t need my baby sister having a baby anytime soon.” Ash shuddered. He still didn’t like Lucy out in LA on her own, let alone the thought of some creep getting her pregnant.
Lucy’s attention was eventually snagged elsewhere while Phin found himself cornered by James, Harrison and Sara Thornton’s ten-year-old son. Harrison was Lizzie’s eldest brother, and he and Sara had been married for three years now. Although James was her son from her previous marriage, Harrison had essentially adopted the boy as his own.
Bea cooed in her sleep, and Ash rested his chin on top of her head.
Thea said quietly, “Do you ever think about getting married? Having kids?”
Out of all of his siblings, Ash had always felt like Thea was the one most like him. Although she worked as a receptionist, her real passion was for art. Currently, she was working on a graphic novel. With her exuberance and tendency to be rath
er absentminded, Thea wasn’t the least bit suited for an office job. Ash might be a pencil pusher who loved numbers and worked as Trent’s accountant for his restaurants, but he still understood Thea’s desire for freedom.
“No, I don’t,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve always known that life wasn’t for me.”
“Really? Because you already have a secret wife and kids you haven’t told us about?”
“Because we’ve both seen the bad side of marriage. You saw how Mom was.” He shuddered. “No, thanks.”
Thea shrugged. “I get that, but we aren’t our parents, either.”
“So says the woman who hasn’t dated seriously in how long?”
“There’s no one worth dating around here. And you’re one to talk.”
He couldn’t disagree. Thinking of dating, though, inevitably drew his gaze back to Violet, who now had a small group of women around her as she showed them what looked like pieces of jewelry.
Was she selling jewelry in a bar on a Friday night? He marveled at her. Where in God’s name had she come from?
Thea looked over her shoulder. “Oh, she’s still here. I saw you talking to her. She seems nice, so you should really leave her alone.”
“We were just talking.”
“Wait, don’t tell me.” Thea’s eyes widened. “Did she turn you down?”
Ash just glared.
Thea laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth when Bea stirred. “No way! Oh my God, I love her already. What’s her name? I’m going to marry her and I’m not even gay.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “I’ve been turned down before.”
“When? I want dates. I want times. I want the names and the exact words they used.”
He and Thea bickered until Lizzie finally returned to take Bea from him. After that, Ash watched Violet, completely mesmerized as she continued to show her wares.
She was clearly in her element. She helped one woman try on a necklace made of amber beads. When one of the other women said something, Violet laughed, her blue eyes sparkling.
Ash wanted to be the one who made her eyes sparkle. He wanted to make her laugh. And by God, he wanted to make her tremble as he kissed her.
Violet pulled out more jewelry from her purse. Did she keep her entire inventory in there? Considering how large the bag was, he could believe that she did. In a few more minutes, she’d given out her business card to at least half a dozen women and sold three pieces of jewelry, too. Amazing. He had to find out who she really was.
Once the women drifted away, Ash got up and slid into the chair next to Violet again. Currently, she was placing jewelry in individual plastic bags, completely unaware he’d returned.
“Do you have any jewelry for guys?” he asked.
She jumped. Clutching a plastic bag to her chest, she said, “You scared me!”
“My question still stands. Do you have anything for me?”
“Sadly, I’m out of bejeweled muzzles.”
He leaned closer to her. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, “I can still drive any woman wild, muzzled or not.”
Finally, a slight blush crept up her cheeks. Ash wanted to whoop in victory. Inhaling her floral scent, he felt his body stir, his blood pumping and desire flaring in his gut.
Violet huffed out a laugh. “If you’re going to bug me, at least buy me a drink.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
3
Violet knew that she should get up and leave. Ash was way too handsome and way too seductive for the likes of her. He practically oozed sensuality with his smile. She hadn’t had sex since William had died. To be honest, she hadn’t even thought about it—until this very moment.
With Ash looking at her with a very obvious I want you gaze and his hair falling across his forehead, his jawline like that of a Greek god? How did he do that? It wasn’t fair. Violet wasn’t stupid enough to think she could combat such raw sex appeal.
So, she did what she always did: she acted like nothing was happening.
She sipped her gin and tonic, amused that Ash had noticed what she’d been drinking and had ordered for her. She decided right then that if he was so intent on getting into her pants, he’d have to put in a lot of effort to get there.
Ash’s lips quirked as he watched her sip her drink in silence. “You sell jewelry?”
“I make and sell it, yes. I have my own business.”
“Really? When did you start it?”
Violet knew very well that most people didn’t really care about the specifics when they asked questions: once she got into things like inventory and financial projections and clasps and chain types, their eyes glazed over, and she knew they’d heard nothing at all.
“I started it about four years ago. I was at a job that I hated, and I was tired of it. I was making jewelry in my spare time, and people started buying it, to my surprise. They wanted more. I was making enough that I was able to work on my business full-time soon after.”
“Impressive. How did you start making your own jewelry?”
She wasn’t at all certain that he really cared, but she shrugged inwardly. She’d tell him everything about bead sizes and charms and pliers and wire until he fell asleep at the bar.
“I took a class and I loved it. I ended up taking more classes, and it kind of snowballed from there.” She opened her purse and brought out a number of samples that she’d already shown to the group of women, placing them in front of Ash. “I mostly make earrings, bracelets, and my favorite, necklaces. Rings, too. This necklace here? It’s made with an infinity chain—see the figure eights?”
Ash leaned closer. “Oh yeah, I see it. I didn’t know there were that many types of chains.”
She bit back a chuckle, mostly because he was trying to sound enthused. That’s more than I can say for most people who don’t care about jewelry, she thought.
“It’s one of my favorite types of chains. I wanted the chain to be fairly delicate with the larger beads and the flower that makes it a statement piece.” She smiled kindly at Ash’s slightly glazed expression. “Am I boring you?”
“Not at all.” He held up a pair of chandelier earrings. “How did you put these together?”
Violet wondered what his game was. Suspicious and amused, she gave him an in-depth explanation about how she’d cut the wires, chosen the beads and beaded the earring. To her astonishment, not only did he stay focused on her as she talked, but he asked salient questions that showed he’d truly been listening.
I’m so doomed, she thought miserably. Why couldn’t he have been a jerk? Hot guys are always jerks!
Ash just smiled and drank his whiskey sour without another word. His eyes seemed to challenge her, like he’d known she’d assumed he was just some self-centered douche and nothing else. Fine, you won that round, she thought, but the game isn’t over yet.
“Enough about me, though,” Violet said briskly, “tell me about you. What do you do?”
Ash leaned back on his barstool, his posture relaxed and open. “Nothing quite as exciting as jewelry. I’m an accountant for my brother’s restaurants. Also his financial advisor. I take care of all of his books, more or less.”
“Are the restaurants here in town?”
“I guess you wouldn’t know, would you? This is one,” he said as he pointed toward the ceiling. “Plus La Bonita and the Wishing Well.”
She blinked. “Your brother owns all three?”
“Yes. My brother is Trent Younger, although I’m actually younger than him.” He rolled his eyes at his pun and Violet laughed.
She hadn’t heard anything about Ash’s family, although in Fair Haven, the family that was most talked about was the Thorntons. They were the most prestigious—and wealthy—family living in the town, and Martha had told her all about the huge mansion in the hills where the parents still lived. They also had a bunch of children—five, six, seven? Something like that.
“Is it just you and your brother, then?” she asked.
He snorted. “I wish. I’m one of five.”
“Wow, what is it with huge families around here? Is there something in the water?”
“Not much else to do in a small town except make babies, I guess,” he said with a lazy, heated grin.
Violet felt a blush climb her cheeks, annoyed at herself for letting Ash get a rise out of her.
“I have a question for you,” he said. “How is it someone as beautiful as you is single?”
“Because I’m actually an old, wrinkled crone underneath this mask.”
He peered more closely at her. “If you are, it’s a damn good mask. I can’t even see your warts.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“How old are you, then?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You can’t ask a lady her age. You know better than that.”
“I’m twenty-eight.” At her dismayed expression, he added, “I promise I’m house-trained. I can even drive.”
Violet instantly felt her age. It wasn’t as if thirty-three was old, but five years’ difference was enough to make her feel a bit like she was robbing the cradle. Besides, men tended to be less mature at twenty-eight than women were at that age. And how would Ash react when he found out how old she was? And that she’d been married and was now a widow?
She stirred her gin and tonic. “You’re just a kid, then.”
“You can’t be more than...” Realizing he was heading into dangerous territory, he said, “Twenty-five.”
“That was a close one. I’m thirty-three going on thirty-four this year, if you’re dying to know. And now that I know how old you are, I’m absolutely sure you’re way too young for me.”
Setting his elbow on the counter, his expression amused, he said, “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough about men.”
“Do you? You don’t strike me as the type who knows much about men at all.”
