“Thanks, it was some time ago, a couple years after graduation. Technically, it belongs to me and my brothers. We co-manage it.”
“That’s cool.”
“How’s that cool?”
“It’s a family legacy.” A sharp stabbing pain rips through me. I’m all that’s left of the Thornton name and what am I doing to our legacy?
You’re running away from it. You’re letting it die.
All of Prescott’s concerns slam into me and it’s difficult to catch my breath. He’s right. The bastard has been right all this time. I might be able to run from my past, but I can’t deny my birthright.
“You got real quiet, little backpack. Is everything okay?”
His silly nickname brings a smile to my face.
“Sorry. Just a bit overwhelmed. It’s been a long day.”
I’m saved from explaining anything further because Katy returns with my greasy cheeseburger and Asher’s chicken wings.
“Mm, looks great,” Asher says.
“Thanks, Ace. You need anything?” Her eyes stick to Asher. Her hand slides over his shoulder and her fingers rub at the side of his neck.
I’ve ceased to exist.
Hello, bitch! He was kissing me just a few short hours ago and his dick got hard for me!
My lips remained sealed and I stew in my seat while shooting daggers at Katy with my eyes. She’s oblivious, too wrapped up in Asher to notice me.
However, he’s not giving her two cents of his time. Without breaking stride, he removes her hand from his neck and lets it drop.
“We’re good, Katy. Just need a little privacy for our date.”
Katy’s eyes widen. Her lips press together, but she says nothing.
That thrills me, more than it should. I’m a greedy, jealous bitch which is totally not like me. I’ve never been like this with anyone.
Not even the man I was going to marry.
With a chicken wing in his mouth, Asher dismisses our overly eager waitress. He stops gnawing on the wing and glances at me. Putting the bones on his plate, he slowly licks his fingers. Why is that so damn sexy?
Because you’re wondering what it will feel like when he licks you…down there. My cheeks heat from the visual. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m not sure why, but it’s easily the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Probably because I imagine how his lips and that talented tongue might feel licking me instead. A low ache builds in my core. I press my legs together and squirm in my seat.
“Katy can be a little over the top, but she’s harmless. We went to high school together. Hung out a little. Fooled around once or twice, but that’s way in the past.”
“Oh.” I want to ask so much more—Like, did you sleep with her?—but I hold my tongue. We both have pasts. I haven’t told him mine. No reason to expect him to spill his dirty secrets.
He reaches across the table and grips my hand. “Relax. You’re wound up pretty tight. And for the record, there’s only one woman I want to sleep with, sleep definitely not being the operative word.” The wink he gives me is enough to set my heart racing.
Holy hellfire he gets directly to the point. I find it insanely hot. I can make all kinds of bad decisions with Asher La Rouge.
But where’s the harm in a little fun?
Because you don’t do casual. Never have.
I really hate when that little voice in my head starts hammering at me with truths I want to ignore.
But it is the truth.
I don’t do casual. I’ve never had a fling. No one-night stands. No sex with strangers. Nothing adventurous or wild like that.
I’ve always been a good girl, with a good reputation, a boyfriend who respected me, and who begged for years before I finally spread my legs for him. Not that I ever intended to save myself for marriage.
Cautious and content is my life. I’m so damn boring.
Maybe, in escaping my past, stepping things up a notch isn’t such a bad idea. If I really want to take charge of my life, I should let my wild side out and live a little. Experience what a little recklessness might feel like. It does seem as if a willing participant sits directly across from me.
Asher La Rouge are you the man to pull me out from this suffocating shell?
“Do I wear my emotions on my sleeve?”
“Yeah, a little. Want to tell me what happened in the bar? You sounded like you needed to let off a little steam, but then I couldn’t get you out of there fast enough. What changed?”
“I saw the headline in the Gazette.” My shoulders slumped.
It hurts saying it out loud. I feel victimized, tried and found guilty without a chance to defend myself. All the dirty looks from the bar make sense now. It wasn’t my imagination and that makes me want to hightail it out of this damn town. I’m not sure if that’s allowed with this damn arson thing hanging over my head.
The only thing keeping me here is the man sitting across from me. Leaving him, before I have a chance of exploring what’s happening between us, simply isn’t a consideration. For the first time, in a very long time, I want to stay in one place for more than a day.
“Yeah, right,” he says.
“You knew about it?” If so, he should have warned me.
“I didn’t know you made front page news until after you left to use the restroom. Grady mentioned it.”
“So, the whole town knows?”
“Most likely.” The affirmation in his voice scares me.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“I’ve been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion, which means you’re associating with an arsonist.”
“But you’re not an arsonist.” He gives a shake of his head. “Besides, I don’t care what they think.”
“You’re not worried that hanging out with me might blow back on you?”
This is his town. I’m an interloper, here and gone, but he’ll stay behind and deal with the fallout after I leave.
“No one has the guts to say anything to me. They might be watching and gossiping, but don’t worry. We’re going to sort this out.”
“You’re really not concerned?” He should put as much distance between us as possible. He has a business to run, two businesses, and the whole volunteer firefighting gig on the side.
“I’m one hundred percent not worried. The Gazette is a gossip magazine. Once we figure everything out, everyone will move on to the next juicy bit of news. Don’t let it bother you. And as for being seen with you, I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.”
“Not even your friends?”
“Grady and Grayson trust me. They even offered to help.”
Frustration spills through me. “Honestly, I have no idea what to do. It’s my word against hundreds of acres of scorched earth.”
And no one seems to care about the man who knocked me out. He’s a ghost in the wind, or rather a ghost in the ash.
“We’ll figure it out.” Asher sounds assured of the outcome.
How is he so certain? I know I didn’t do it, but all he has is his faith in me.
I’m scared.
I’m really scared.
14
Evelyn
A yawn escapes me. It’s late and my lack of lodging accommodations is going to be problematic sooner rather than later. A quick internet search reveals very few local hotels. None which come close to anything I consider safe.
Prescott thinks I’m not concerned enough about my safety, but I am. Two motels on the edge of town are quick discards. Their online photos look seedy, more of the rent for an hour kind of place than where I want to spend the night. There’s one hotel near the center of town, but they don’t seem to have internet booking. I’ll have to call them once Asher and I leave the diner.
We finish dinner in relative quiet. An easy silence flows between us with no need to fill it with random words or aimless discussion. As the evening wears on, my curiosity about Asher increases and
I dig for information with soft probing questions.
He’s easy to talk to, like an old friend, and forthcoming about La Rouge Vineyards. His animated stories about some of the tourists he’s taken on trail rides leaves me in stitches. His stallion, Knight, who loves to test him, is a character. I love horses. People often underestimate them, but they’re full of personality.
He speaks fondly of George, his foreman, who helps him keep everything working smoothly at the vineyard, and there’s something else I learn. He loves his workers, often working beside them during the harvest, and joining their families for barbecues, birthdays, weddings, and the rare funeral. He’s easy going, fast to smile, and an expressive talker. We laugh more than we talk.
And I let down my guard.
I breathe easier and imagine what such a life might feel like. It sounds wonderful.
Katy fills our empty glasses for the fifth time with an audible sigh. She plops a check on the table and spins around without a word.
“I guess we’ve been told it’s time to go,” I say.
Asher laughs. “I suppose so.”
My lack of sleeping accommodations—my lack of everything actually, weighs heavily on me. All I have is a phone, the clothes on my back, and a wallet full of fresh credit cards. In a small town like this, however, I don’t anticipate many late-night shopping opportunities.
Asher pays the bill, leaves a generous tip, and wraps his arm around my shoulders as we leave. Every chance he gets, he touches me. Whether it’s his hand on my back, an arm draped over my shoulder, or his fingers entwined with mine, we’re in constant physical contact.
He’s completely absorbed in me.
I’m not used to the attention, but I love it. The degree with which I love it makes me question some of my previous choices.
I’ve known Asher less than two weeks, yet feel closer to him than I ever did with Justin. Sure, Justin had a comfortable familiarity about him. Our history bound us together. We were good in bed, nothing earth-shattering, and I was happy.
Content.
But I wasn’t head over heels in love.
It never occurred to me how much of a spark Justin and I never shared.
It makes me sad. Sad for me. Sad for him. Sad that we were ready to commit our lives to each other without ever really being in love which each other.
Things are different with Asher, if I decide to head down that path. It’s not as if I’m head over heels in love with Asher. The spark igniting between us is too new, too incendiary. It’s combustible which makes it unreliable. We’re more likely to burn and crash than sustain whatever this is that’s happening between us.
The thing is, Asher appears more than eager to lead me into the inferno of what we can become. It’s written in the smoldering looks and the soft touches which linger longer than they should. The way his touch sets off a storm of electrical sparks shooting through my body, tells me I’m happy to follow. Yet, Asher doesn’t push.
The one kiss is all we’ve had, yet it reverberates inside of me with echoes of what might be.
The heat.
The passion.
The promise for more.
All it’ll take is one spark to kindle an awakening inside of me. The only question is will it burn through me like a firestorm, leaving nothing but destruction in its path? Or is it sustainable, a low simmering heat which can last a lifetime?
But as that fire burns, what price will it claim? This is what worries me the most. Will my memories of Justin fade away? Will my love for him be obliterated in the sizzling heat promised in the lusty gazes Asher so easily tosses my way?
Is that something I want?
Is it something I can live with?
When we head out to his truck, I pause.
“What’s wrong?” He spins me until I face him, placing both of his hands on my hips.
He towers over me and I brace against his overwhelming presence. There’s too much of him to take in.
“I’ve been so caught up in everything I haven’t really thought about where I’ll stay for the night. Not to mention I have no toothbrush and nothing but the clothes on my back. What are the chances there’s a store open this time of night?”
“There’s always the mother of all superstores. They’re open 24-7. It’s about a half-hour drive. Does that fit the bill?”
I cringe. I’m a bit more discerning in my tastes, but then I can generally afford to be. This is not the case right now, however.
“It’ll have to do. I should probably find a hotel first.”
“Hotel?” His brows pinch together and he rubs at the back of his neck. “I figured you’d stay with me.”
“You?”
“Sure.” He gives a shrug, like it’s a foregone conclusion. “I just assumed.”
That I would stay with him, or sleep with him?
Okay, I may be assuming the exact same thing, but I’m a little concerned. This is moving too fast. Can I handle a relationship that’s only about sex? Is that even considered a relationship? What does it mean when I want more? And I do want more. I don’t want to be a notch on Asher’s bedpost. The wild and free me simply doesn’t exist. My brain, and heart, are hard-wired for commitment. That may be a problem.
But if I’m going to throw caution to the wind, Asher’s just the guy. I can do this, and it’ll be fun. My hope is I won’t wake up regretting it when I walk away.
And I hope I’m the one who does walk away.
I can’t argue with myself. And as far as being safe, Asher’s more than proven he’s trustworthy. He’s already done so much for me and hasn’t asked for anything in return, but I’m not ready to jump into the deep end.
Why not?
My head spins, considering all the options, weighing the best course of action, and deciding if the risk is worth the reward.
I could go on all night, but the truth is I’m tired. This whole ordeal finds me overwhelmed; my confidence is undermined. I second guess every decision I’ve made and those I’m considering.
I thought I could take on the world and thought nothing about heading out into the wilderness alone, hiking and camping in an attempt to find myself and escape my past. Now the idea terrifies me. Some might call it PTSD from getting whacked on the head. I call it discouraging.
“I don’t know. I’d hate to impose.”
“Impose? Shit, I’d count myself lucky if you say yes.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. “Look, it’s away from town, prying eyes, and gossiping townies. It’s the perfect place to relax. If it makes you feel any better, I offered your friend to stay there too.”
“My friend?”
“Prescott.”
“Oh.” No way would Prescott stay with a stranger. “What did he say?”
“It was a polite, yet firm, hell no.”
“That sounds just like him.”
“Well, he’ll be here in the morning, and I’m sure you’ll have tons to talk about. But in the meantime, you’ll stay with me.” He says it as if it’s a foregone conclusion.
“I appreciate it. I really do, but that’s a big ask, and you’ve already done so much for me.”
He bites his lower lip. “This might sound a bit weird, but I kind of need you to stay with me.”
“Come again?”
“Well, other than the obvious…” The crooked grin he gives is easily becoming one of my favorite features. “I kind of promised the judge I’d keep an eye on you until your arraignment.”
“What?”
He releases my hips and takes a step back. “I gave my word that I’d watch over you until the arraignment. If you want to stay in a hotel, we can do that, but my place is much more comfortable. You’ll have your own room, of course, unless…” He’s quick to add that last bit, but I’m pretty sure that’s not where he wants me to sleep.
“Who did you give your word to?”
“The judge. I had to convince him to set your bail.”
“Wow, I thought Prescott sor
ted that out. I’m really in your debt. I can’t believe you did that for me.”
It’s not possible, but I’m falling for Asher’s heroics. I’ve never had someone go to such great lengths on my behalf.
“Perks of knowing pretty much everyone in town. Besides, Judge Simon loves La Rouge wines.”
“You really do know everyone, don’t you?”
“Well, he’s actually kind of sweet on my mom. I may, or may not, have promised to arrange something to help get them together.”
“You did what?”
“I pimped my mom to get my girl out of jail.” He winks, and I swear my heart skips a beat. “It was either that or leave you in a holding cell through the weekend. I’m sure your friend, Prescott, could’ve gotten you out tomorrow, but I couldn’t bear thinking of you staying there all night. It’s the least I could do.”
“The least?” I place my hand on his arm. “You’ve done more for me than anyone. Thank you.” I wrap my arms around him. “Of course, I’d love to stay at your place.”
“Where I can keep my eye on you.” Another one of his devilish smirks makes an appearance. “And do very bad things to you.” The rasp in his voice sends chills down my spine.
“Bad things?” I play coy, like I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“Very bad things.”
“Like what?” How deliciously deviant can he be? I lift up on tiptoe and kiss the tip of his chin.
“You really want to know?” His arm wraps around me and he pulls me tight against him where the evidence of his arousal jabs into my hip.
“That depends.”
“Hmm… You stretched out on my bed comes to mind. I’m thinking a little rope to keep you right where I want you. And then I intend on taking my time getting to explore every inch of your body.”
Holy shit, but he doesn’t mince words.
“Rope?”
“It’s a particular skillset I’m good at. You might remember how efficiently I tied you up the first time.”
“Oh, I remember.” Being a living backpack and riding Asher away from that fire is not something I’ll ever forget.
“I plan on getting lost inside of you. How’s that for what I want?”
Firestorm: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 13
