by Ivy Black
“Oh, I know the difference. And it’s a good thing I never cross that line.”
Ashley walks away again, muttering to herself, and tends to her other tables. She has such an easy confidence about her that I find attractive. And the way she banters with me and fires back, not letting me get away with anything is a massive turn on. I’ve always liked smart women who can snap back like she does. It’s sexy, makes things fun, and keeps things lively.
A few minutes later, she drops off my plate of food and refills my coffee again. She’s doing her best to avoid looking at me, but I can see her stealing glances at me from the corner of her eye.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I tell her. “Have dinner with me. If not tonight, then another night.”
She gives me a devilish smile. “Golly. I guess I haven’t given you an answer to your question, huh?”
She turns and walks away, and I can hear her laughing to herself. It makes me chuckle and shake my head. With nothing left for it at the moment, I tuck into my meal. And as I do, I keep my eye on her. She’s obviously fucking with me right now by dragging this out and not answering my question.
But the fact that she hasn’t flat out said no tells me she’s at least somewhat intrigued. Ashley doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who beats around the bush. In the brief time I’ve known her, she seems like somebody who’s blunt. She’s direct and doesn’t sugarcoat things. She’ll tell it like it is, and you’ll always know where you stand with her. I respect and admire that quite a lot, actually.
I drain the last of my orange juice and push the empty plate away from me, my belly full. Ashley appears at my table and scoops up my dishes, and with her other hand, sets my check down on the table. Before I can ask the question once more, she flounces away.
“I’ll come back every day until you say yes, you know,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “Keep tipping like you do and you can come back anytime you want.”
“Have dinner with me.”
She smiles. “Have a good day.”
Ashley walks away, leaving me without an answer, but with my interest in her rising all the more. When I pick up the check, I see that there’s a second, folded piece of paper beneath the check. I unfold it and smile to myself when I see her number written out in her neat, precise hand. She’s looking back at me when I glance up at her, then quickly turns away from me. Slipping it into my shirt pocket, I leave the money for my check, plus a healthy tip, then get up and start out of the restaurant.
As I pass her by, I whisper to her. “You’ll be hearing from me.”
“If I answer your call.”
I’m laughing as I walk out of the restaurant, feeling a bit more pep in my step than usual. As I walk down the sidewalk that’ll lead me to the parking lot, I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself. But as I go, I notice a black SUV with totally smoked windows rolling slowly down the street. In that moment, the idea of a drive-by flashes through my mind and standing here in my kutte makes me an easier target, and I suddenly regret leaving my sidearm in my saddlebag.
But then, the driver’s side window comes down and I see a man with tawny skin, slicked back hair. He’s got sunglasses on that are as dark as the tinting on the windows in the back. The man has a thick goatee, and I can see the tattoo on his neck. Through the window, I see a man in the passenger seat, and I’ve got a feeling there are others behind those smoked windows in the back.
They could be anybody. They could just be passing through for all I know. But there’s something about them that sets my Spidey senses tingling. There’s just something about them that doesn’t feel right to me. They don’t seem like they belong here, nor the type who would simply pass through a place like Blue Rock.
Honestly, my first thought when I see them is that they’re cartel men. But why would they be here? What do they want? And as I think about Prophet and his mood lately, I wonder for about the thousandth time… what in the hell is going on?
Chapter Fifteen
Ashley
The night is cool, and a thick marine layer is rolling in overhead, making it a bit cooler. I’ve already put Cole to bed, and now Missy and I are sitting on her back deck enjoying a glass of wine beneath the soft glow of a string of Chinese lanterns along the covering overhead.
“You gave him your number?” Missy asked.
Feeling my cheeks flush with warmth, I bury my face in my hands, unable to keep myself from giggling.
“I did,” I shake my head. “I can’t believe it, but I did. I gave him my number.”
“Look at you, getting all bold.”
It was an impulsive act. I’m normally not an impulsive person, preferring to think things through before I act. I’m usually very deliberate and methodical. But jotting my number down and slipping it to Max had been a totally spontaneous thing. It was almost like I was thumbing my nose at the old me, the girl who’d live in fear all those years and kept herself completely penned in by Ryan. It was like giving a giant middle finger to her.
Of course, that’s not to say I didn’t have immediate regrets afterward. When Max walked out of the diner, a piece of me wanted to run after him and snatch that slip of paper away from him. Thinking about it now, after the fact, I want to scream and kick myself for being so rash and impulsive. That’s not me. That’s never been me. At least, until now, I suppose.
“What am I supposed to do if he calls?” I ask, feeling like an awkward teenage girl, all of a sudden.
Missy laughs. “Talk to him? I mean, you must have given him your number for a reason, right?”
“I’m not sure. I mean… when I gave it to him, I wasn’t really thinking.”
Missy arches an eyebrow at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, you weren’t thinking with your brain, anyway.”
Laughter bursts from my throat. “You are terrible!”
“And that’s news… how?”
“True. Good point.”
Mark steps out onto the patio and stands behind Missy, laying his hands on her shoulders. He leans down and kisses the top of her head, and she looks up at him with pure adoration in her eyes. That familiar pang of jealousy shoots through me and I do my best to stuff it down, realizing I’m being ridiculous. Again.
It’s not that I’m jealous of Missy. I’m thrilled for her, actually. That she has such a wonderful man, who obviously worships her, makes me so happy for Missy. She deserves it. She deserves all the happiness in her life and more. I’m really happy that Mark so obviously cherishes her and treats her like a goddess.
My jealousy stems from the fact that I’ve never had anything approaching that. Oh, I thought I did early on with Ryan. But I see now, it was only ever a mirage. It was a façade. As I look back on things, the man Ryan is now is who he’s always been. I’ve deluded myself into thinking that he loved and cherished me in the way Mark loves and cherishes Missy. But he didn’t. Not really.
Even in the best of times, he’s always been angry. He’s always dished out the cutting remarks and insults, though he had refrained from putting his hands on me. At least until somewhat recently. He’s gotten angrier and more aggressive after his injury and the trajectory of his life changed, but deep down, I have to admit to myself that he’s always been like this. He just used to be better about hiding who he really was, and always went over the top to prove how sorry he was when he said or did something to hurt me.
There is a big part of me who wants to be with somebody who adores me and puts me up on a pedestal like Mark does with Missy. I want to have somebody look at me the way he looks at her. And yeah, I’d like to look at somebody the same way she looks at him. I’ve never had those things in my life, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a pretty big hole in the center of me.
“I went ahead and put the twins down. Running around all day with Cole wiped them out,” Mark says softly.
Missy frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come in and help.”
He waves her off. “It’s no
big deal. I made sure to tell them you loved them for you. They were happy enough with that.”
“You are the best,” she says.
He nods. “I know,” he says with a smile on his face, then he turns to me. “And how are you doing, Ash? Settling in okay?”
I nod. “I am. Thank you so much for everything.”
“No need for thanks. We’re glad to have you here. And the twins love having Cole around.”
“So, Ashley’s got her hooks into a man,” Missy says.
“Missy!” I gasp and laugh.
Mark raises his eyebrows. “Oh, really now? And who is he?”
“I don’t have my hooks into anybody,” I argue.
“She gave him her number.”
“Well, I’d say that’s definitely the definition of having your hooks into somebody,” he confirms.
“He’s not even going to call,” I say, cringing at how lame it sounds coming out of my mouth.
“Oh, he’ll call. He’s been coming into the diner like, all the time, just to see and talk to her,” Missy says.
“He’s come in a few times. That’s totally not the same as all the time,” I say, feeling my cheeks growing positively hot.
“Oh, he’s definitely going to call. In my experience, if a man puts in the time and effort to stalk you, he’ll definitely call.”
I bury my face in my hands again, unable to control my laughter… and to hide my embarrassment. Slowly, I manage to get myself under control and can finally look up at them again without feeling like I want to crawl into a hole and die.
“He’s not stalking me. He’s just… persistent,” I say.
“Persistently stalking you,” Missy say.
“But it’s kind of in a sweet way. It’s like not a creepy kind of stalking,” I offer.
“Listen to you defending him,” Mark says. “Sounds like you totally like this guy already.”
“She does. She’s not the kind of girl who goes around throwing her number out to anybody. This one’s special, I think.”
“Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I laugh.
“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that he doesn’t turn into a creepy kind of stalker and that he’s a nice guy,” Mark says.
“Thank you,” I reply, feeling all kinds of awkward about being put on the spot.
“I’m beat, so I’m going to turn in, if that’s all right,” Mark says.
“I’ll be in soon, baby,” Missy says.
He leans down and gives her a quick peck, then stands up and offers me a warm smile.
“Night,” he says.
“Night,” I reply.
He heads back into the house, leaving us alone again. I’m still giggling and feeling embarrassed and trying to get myself back under control. Missy tops both of our glasses off, then sets the bottle down. She picks up her glass and sits back in her seat, giving me a playful smile.
“One more,” she says. “Because I want to hear more about this guy.”
“There’s not much to tell. I mean, I don’t know all that much about him.”
“Other than he’s superhot,” she says.
I shrug. “Well… yeah. And that he actually seems nice, which is something I’m still trying to wrap my mind around.”
Missy takes a drink of her wine and sets the glass down. She leans forward and looks at me, her expression serious.
“Just be careful, Ash. I mean, he’s a biker. Those kinds of guys have got a reputation for a reason.”
“I know. He just seems different. I mean, he’s definitely gruff and all of that. But there’s just this gentleness about him that’s surprising.”
“Not to beat a dead horse, or make you feel bad, or anything like that, but Ryan seemed that way, too. At least for a while.”
I nod, acknowledging the fact that she’s right. Once upon a time, I thought Ryan was a kind and a gentle man. And we all see how that turned out. It’s fair to say that when it comes to men, my judgment is suspect. At best. But I know that I had misgivings about Ryan, even back then. I didn’t allow myself to think on them too deeply or give them much credence in my own mind because I was a stupid girl who was in love. But the fact of the matter is that I saw the warning signs back then, and just chose to ignore them.
And it’s true that I don’t know Max. We haven’t spent enough time together for me to know what he’s really like. But when I look into his eyes, I do see a gentleness there. Ryan always had a hard edge in his eyes. There was always something dangerous in them. That’s not to say Max doesn’t have an air of danger about him or doesn’t have an edge—he most certainly does—but it’s just different. There’s a sweetness I see in his eyes that I never really saw in Ryan’s.
“What is it you like about him?” Missy asks.
The smile curls my lips upward before I can stop it. “He’s charming. And it’s not a fake or smarmy charm. It just kind of oozes out of him.”
The truth is that although I put up this icy front with him, try to make myself seem completely disinterested, his charm really gets under my skin. In the best way possible, to be honest. Yeah, I enjoy the whole being pursued angle of all this. But the back and forth exchanges, the lighthearted banter, and his stubborn insistence on breaking through the walls I surround myself with all combine to give me this dizzying feel of… something. It kind of feels like happiness, but it’s been so long since I’ve actually felt that, I can’t say for sure.
“Yeah, well, be careful. He may just be trying to charm you out of your panties. You know how guys can be.”
I give her a shrug. “I’ve thought about it. And if that’s all this is, would that be such a bad thing?”
She giggles and looks at me, an expression of scandal on her face. “Listen to you! When did Sister Ashley Margaret start enjoying recreational sex?”
My face is burning so hot, I’m surprised it hasn’t burst into flames. I’d forgotten that Missy and Maggie used to tease me relentlessly about my... prudish nature. Back in the day, while they were experimenting with boys and sex, I wasn’t. Sex was something special to me and I didn’t want to just give it away to somebody I didn’t care about. I wanted it to mean something.
It was my personal choice and I never looked down on them for enjoying themselves. That was their choice, and it wasn’t for me to say anything about it one way or the other. Of course, we all teased each other. They called me a prude and gave me the name, “Sister Ashley Margaret,” obviously implying that I’m a nun. And I’d call them a slut in one form or another. None of us ever meant anything by it and we all knew it was in good fun. And as I think back on those times now, I can’t help but laugh. They were good times.
“Sister Ashley Margaret has hung up her habit… mostly. Since I decided that I’m starting a new life, I’m going to live it the way that I want. And if that means I indulge in a little recreational sex, that I use a man for my own pleasure, then so be it. I’m okay with that. Mostly,” I tell her.
She clasps her hands in front of her. “My little girl is finally growing up. I’m so proud of you.”
We share a laugh as I give her the finger. But as our laughter tapers off, her expression grows more serious.
“I’m excited about you starting this new chapter of your life, babe. Don’t think I’m not,” she says. “Just… be careful with yourself. I don’t want to see you get hurt in any sense of the word.”
Reaching across the table, I take hold of her hand and squeeze it tight. “I’ll be careful. And I’m not saying anything is going to happen with Max. He might not call, or I might not even agree to go out with him. But it’s nice to have options,” I tell her.
“Options are always a good thing to have,” she agrees.
“Honestly, I like how hard Max is chasing me. I really enjoy the feeling of being wanted and pursued,” I say. “And even if it goes nowhere outside of the bedroom, it’s nice to feel free, and like I can have a lover if I want. Miss, it’s been so long since I’ve felt genuine ple
asure that I haven’t given myself, I think I’m owed.”
She smiles softly. “If there’s one thing you most definitely deserve, it’s to get laid. And get laid well. It’s amazing just how much an amazing orgasm can change your perspective on life.”
“Who knows what’s going to happen? I could wake up tomorrow and feel differently about everything.”
“Don’t be too hasty, babe. I like this new free, I’ll-bang-whoever-I-want woman you’re becoming. You’re fierce, and that’s kinda hot. I might even do you myself.”
The laughter erupts from me and I have to bite it off, trying to avoid being too loud. Missy is laughing along with me as well. But then she drains the last of her wine, so I follow suit, knowing we need to wrap this up.
“I’m going to head to bed,” she said. “Just remember what I said… be careful.”
“I will. And thanks, Miss. You really are the best.”
She tips me a wink. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”
She collects the glasses and takes them back inside as I head for the guest house. I enter quietly and close the door softly. After that, I walk to the back and look in on Cole. He’s curled up with his blankets pulled tightly around him. His breathing is slow and even, and he is just the picture of perfection and innocence to me. What strikes me the most is that he seems at peace.
Back in Erwin, he was usually plagued with nightmares, and he never slept peacefully. Whimpering and crying out in his sleep was commonplace. But seeing him sleeping now, not a whimper or sound to be heard—nothing but the steady, even breath of somebody truly at peace—fills my heart with love and happiness. It also reinforces the belief that I did the right thing by taking him out of Erwin and away from Ryan. That bringing him out here was the best thing I could have done for him.
Softly shutting his door, I head into my room and close the door most of the way, then start getting myself ready for bed. I’m just putting the toothpaste on my toothbrush when my phone rings. I sigh, already knowing who’s going to be on the other end of the line.
