by T. K. Leigh
“If I have to run to the store to get more ingredients, I’ll do it. Can’t have you leaving…unsatisfied.”
My mouth grows dry at the innuendo, every cell in my body humming with the need to know all the ways Asher can satisfy me. I imagine he’d be able to do so in a manner no man before him has. In a manner no man after him will again. But that’s all this can be. A fantasy. Nothing more.
With a smirk, he turns, his footsteps sounding his retreat. I go to my suitcase, about to unpack, when his deep voice fills the space. “Hey, Izzy?”
I whirl around, meeting his dark eyes swimming with deep indecision, the pendulum still swinging madly within. He licks his lips, squinting, searching for an answer that remains out of reach.
Then he exhales, his expression softening. “I’m glad you’re here. Really glad.”
He doesn’t wait for me to reply, spinning around and disappearing down the hallway.
“I’m in so much trouble,” I murmur to myself.
Chapter Eight
“When were you going to tell me you’ve been getting all chummy with Asher York?” Chloe bites out the second I pull back the door to my room after changing into the only bathing suit I brought with me — a revealing black bikini that seems to make my already ample chest seem even more voluptuous. As if I’m doing it intentionally for Asher.
Maybe I am.
“Have you been waiting outside my room this entire time?”
“No.” She grabs my arm, ushering me back into my room and closing the door. “But I figured twenty minutes would give you enough time to shave all your naughty bits to clear a landing strip.” Dropping her grip on me, she sweeps her gaze over me, a smirk pulling on her mouth. “I was right.”
I wrap my arms over my stomach, trying to hide my body, but my sheer, white coverup doesn’t help much in that area. “Don’t get your hopes up. There will be no landing.”
“Why? I saw the way you looked at him.”
“Chloe,” I begin, but she doesn’t let me say another word.
“And I saw the way he looked at you. How long has this been going on?”
Sighing, I collapse onto the bed. “Less than twenty-four hours.” Although one could argue it’s been going on since my freshman year of college.
“How?” She sits next to me, frowning, her brow wrinkled. “We’ve spent our entire weekend together. I’m pretty sure I would have noticed you talking to Asher. Hell, pretty sure Bernadette would have noticed, too. She would have included it in the gossip section of one of her daily ‘Bachelorette News’ emails she’s been sending.”
“Please tell me you don’t actually read those.”
She shrugs. “I may have fed her a fake story or two. But that’s irrelevant. What’s the deal with you and Asher?”
“No deal. We ran into each other last night,” I explain, looking ahead with an unfocused gaze.
“Last night? When?”
“My body still thinks it’s working the night shift, so I ended up going out and found an Irish pub with a live band. It was a nice change after the thumping club music we’ve been forced to endure this weekend.”
“You mean you haven’t been enjoying all that electronic crap?” she mocks in faux disbelief.
Brushing off her comment, I continue. “I went inside to have a beer and unwind. Imagine my surprise when the lead singer of the band performing announced a special guest by the name of Asher York. After he finished singing, he noticed me in the crowd and came up to me. We ended up hanging out.”
“But you’ve been here before,” she remarks, as I suspected she would.
Chloe has one of those analytical minds that doesn’t miss much. It’s what makes her one hell of a gossip columnist. She can smell a story before it even starts. I’ve lost count of the number of celebrity pregnancies she’s accurately predicted before they’ve been announced to the public. Hell, there were a few she knew about before the celebrity’s own publicist was made aware.
“After last call, we went to get a bite to eat.” My lips tick up into a smile. “Then he wasn’t ready for our night together to end, so he brought me back here.”
“And what did you two do when you got here?” She waggles her brows.
“Played the piano,” I answer.
“I bet you did.”
“We did. Then we watched the sunrise before he drove me back to the hotel.”
“So you mean to tell me you spent all night with Asher York… And not the Asher York you knew those years ago, but that Asher York.” She points toward the closed door. “You’re trying to tell me you spent all night with him, played piano, watched the sunrise, and nothing happened?”
“Precisely.”
She pinches her lips together. “Did you want something to happen?”
“I don’t know, Chloe.” I get up from the bed, pacing as I attempt to make sense of my warring emotions. “The entire time I dated Jessie, I never once thought of Asher this way. Never looked at him this way.” Until the day I realized the truth.
“I find that hard to believe,” she mutters.
“Why?”
She rolls her eyes. “I may not have gone to college with you, but I saw how you guys were. Even back then. And I wasn’t the only one. Hell, at your own engagement party, you spent most of the night hanging out with Asher.”
“Because Jessie got drunk at the Sox game earlier in the day. Asher was only trying to make up for his brother’s lack of self-control.”
“Still…” Standing, she shrugs before crossing her arms in front of her. “You guys have always been good together.”
“We’ve always been friends.”
She approaches. “What changed?”
I point toward the door, just as she did a few seconds ago. “Have you seen him? You just admitted you’ve noticed the changes.”
“He’s definitely got an incredible body now.” She giggles. “And that hair… He’s got that sexy Johnny Depp hair. And you know how much I love me some Johnny Depp. And so do you. Bet you’d love to tug on that. Am I right?” She nudges me, passing me a devious smirk that has me cracking a smile in less than a second.
“Maybe.”
Her playfulness fades as she peers at me with all the sincerity I’ve come to expect from my lifelong friend. “So what’s stopping you?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I throw my hands up, my voice laden with sarcasm. “Maybe the fact I was once engaged to his brother. And not a brother he doesn’t get along with. A brother who’s also his best friend. He’d never betray Jessie like that. And even if he would…”
“You hate the idea of doing anything that would jeopardize their relationship,” she finishes.
She knows me better than most people. She was the first person I went to when I found out I was adopted. She made me see it didn’t change anything. That I still had a loving family, even if we didn’t share DNA. Learning you’re adopted makes you see family in a different light. Makes you treasure it more. My stomach roils at the idea of being the cause of any strife between Asher and Jessie. Which is why I cut ties with them all those years ago. My heart had splintered in two different directions. It was better to walk away before it was beyond repair.
“Do you blame me?”
On a long exhale, Chloe drapes an arm over my shoulders, pulling me back onto the bed. “I certainly don’t. But you also don’t need to sit here, making long-term plans for a future. Hell, you don’t even have to make plans for tomorrow, since we’re headed back home… God willing. Have fun and enjoy your time with Asher.” The seriousness and compassion in her expression wanes, her mouth kicking up into a mischievous grin once more. “And if something should happen, you know what they say about this town, don’t you?” She stands, heading toward the door. “What happens here…”
“I know. I know. Stays here,” I finish, dragging myself to my feet.
“Exactly. Now, let’s go enjoy one more day in the sun before we have to return to the frozen tundra of Manhattan.” S
he loops her arm through mine, pulling me out of the room and down the stairs.
The instant we turn the corner into the open kitchen, my heart speeds up at the sight of Asher standing in front of the island. I can’t stop my lips from parting, my eyes drawn to the flexing muscles in his forearms as he works the meat into patties. It’s a simple act, one that shouldn’t be considered erotic in any sense, but it sets my body aflame.
“All right, Asher,” Chloe says, flashing me a sly grin, noticing my stare trained on him. “Whose house is this? Izzy said you’re not house sitting, so what are you doing in a place like this?”
“Don’t think I can afford it myself?” He catches my eye, winking, which only serves to turn me into a ball of putty. God, this man can wink.
“Last I heard, you were playing bars in LA, trying to make it big.” This statement surprises me since I didn’t even know he’d left Boston.
“Maybe I’ve made it big.”
“Have you?”
It’s silent for a moment while he considers Chloe’s question. Then he returns his attention to the hamburger mixture, continuing to form the patties.
“Not yet, but I’m one step closer.”
“What do you mean?” She looks from Asher to me, searching for some explanation. My gaze flashes to the display case in the corner of the living room containing the Grammy awards. Noticing my gesture, she turns, walking toward it. When she realizes who they belong to, her reaction mirrors what mine was. Mouth falling open. Dazed stare. Body stiffening.
“You’re in Fallen Grace?” she all but shrieks, whirling around.
“Certainly not.” A low chuckle rumbles through him. “They’re not really my style.”
With an unaffected attitude I find attractive, considering most men in his position would probably brag about their good fortune, Asher recounts the story of how he came to form a partnership with one of the most successful music acts in the world today, demonstrating the same humility he always exhibited toward everything.
“It goes to show that sometimes good things happen when we least expect it,” he remarks thoughtfully once he finishes telling Chloe the story he relayed to me last night. Or this morning.
Heat washes over my face, and I lift my eyes to find the source. Has he always looked at me this way? Have his nostrils always flared as his gaze rakes over my body? Have his pupils always dilated with hunger as he steals a glimpse of my cleavage? Has this electricity always existed?
Maybe he acts this way around all women. Maybe he’s behaving like this because he’s been stuck in a house with a boy band for God knows how long and I’m the first relatively attractive female he’s seen in ages. The reasons for his unabashed admiration of my body don’t matter. All that does is that I’ve been given the gift of spending another day with him. Maybe Chloe’s right. Maybe I need to stop worrying about the potential ramifications and just let the cards fall where they may.
“So…” Asher clears his throat, looking away. “What can I get you to drink?”
I exhale. A drink is exactly what I need to help settle these nervous butterflies flitting in my stomach.
Once we all have a beer in hand, he grabs the plate of burgers and leads us toward the open French doors. As I follow behind him, I can’t help but admire his long, toned legs, the way his plaid swim trunks fall from his hips, the faint outline of more tattoos underneath his white, linen shirt.
“Lincoln!” he calls out once we emerge onto the pergola-covered patio, forcing me out of my thoughts. “Get off your phone and be social.” He lowers his voice, addressing us. “He’ll be done soon, I hope.”
He sets the plate on a table beside the grill. I inhale the charcoal aroma, the combination of the smell and being here with Asher reminiscent of the summers at Grams’ lake house. Now if only she were here, regaling us with yet another one of her outrageous stories, my heart would be full. Then again, it’s best she’s not. She’d probably force us all to do paddleboard yoga in the pool. Or she’d go skinny-dipping. Grams was never shy about the naked form, which served to embarrass Jessie and make Asher laugh.
“Who’s he?” Chloe asks. Her eyes flame, presumably over the idea of one of the band members being here.
“Lincoln Moore,” he explains as he places the burgers onto the grill, which causes my stomach to growl. My mouth salivates in anticipation of what I know will be one hell of a burger. “We went to college together. In fact, he was a workaholic back then, too. Constantly studying. He was one of those guys who lived according to the motto ‘work hard, play hard’.”
“I like to think that now it’s ‘work hard, play even harder’,” a deep voice says, and I look in its direction, sucking in a sharp inhale of air when I see the figure approaching Chloe from behind.
I may have been a few yards away, but I’d be able to pick out the man who had my best friend in a passionate embrace in the hotel from a lineup. The mysterious, deep-set eyes with swirls of caramel and gold. The full lips that quirk up in amusement. And the tall, muscular physique that easily has a foot over Chloe. She was right. They appear to be as opposite as you can get. But does that matter?
Unable to move, Chloe stares at me with wide eyes, as if waiting for me to confirm that her suspicions are correct, that the enthralling voice belongs to the man she thinks it does.
This day just got much more interesting.
“Chloe, Izzy…,” Asher begins, oblivious to the growing tension sizzling in the air. “This is my friend, Lincoln. Lincoln, this is Izzy and—”
“Dick Girl,” Lincoln finishes, stepping in front of Chloe, his gaze glued to her.
“Dick Girl?” Asher furrows his brow, his stare ping-ponging between them. If Chloe hadn’t told me about his nickname for her, I’d be just as confused. “Do you two know each other?”
“We’ve had the…pleasure.”
I notice a shiver roll through Chloe’s body, a strange response for someone who normally has no reaction to the opposite sex.
“Or perhaps I should say I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing her sharp tongue.”
Damn. Now I can see what has Chloe acting so out of character. This guy is as smooth as a twenty-year-old scotch. And seemingly just as mature, which is what she needs.
“Yes.” She holds her head high, thrusting her hand out toward him in a manner you’d expect to find in a business meeting, not a chance encounter between two people with off-the-charts chemistry. “It’s nice to see you again, to formally meet you, Lincoln.”
He takes her hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he brings it to his lips, not peeling his eyes off hers as he places a soft kiss on the skin. “Likewise, Chloe. I didn’t think we’d see each other again.”
“Either did I.”
“Funny how that keeps happening, isn’t it? How we keep…bumping into each other. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone, something wants us to keep seeing each other.”
I feel the heat of Asher’s breath on my neck, followed by that low, husky voice. “I could say the same about you.”
I turn to face him, the hair on my nape standing on end when I see the unyielding desire in his eyes. I bring my beer to my lips, taking a long sip. “Is that so?”
He slowly nods. “That’s so.” His expression changes, this one more curious than needy. He closes the distance between us. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, my chest rising and falling in a quicker rhythm.
“Me, either. But a part of me wants to find out.”
“And the other part?” I barely manage to squeak out.
“Is so fucking torn.” He rakes his hand through his hair, retreating into himself. Just as he did on more than one occasion last night.
“Me, too.”
Chapter Nine
“So, what’s next on the agenda for game night?” I ask in a bright voice after we cleaned up all the Jenga blocks that clattered to the ground, thanks to Lincoln getting cocky and not paying attent
ion as he placed one, slightly skewed, on top of the tower.
The afternoon sped by in a fog of burgers, bachelorette party stories, and a fun game of Jenga, something I haven’t played since my Introduction to Nursing Science class when my professor had us work together in groups to prevent the tower from toppling over, equating it to the teamwork necessary in the nursing profession.
“Game night?” Chloe scrunches her nose, her lip curled up.
“Yeah. Game night.”
“Oh no.” She quickly shakes her head, her reaction akin to one you might expect if accused of a horrific crime. “This isn’t game night. That’s something bored, married couples do to mask the fact that they have nothing in common with each other. The arrogant husband acts as if he’s a know-it-all anytime his wife answers a question wrong in Trivial Pursuit. And during a rousing game of Taboo, she realizes exactly how little her husband listens to her. No thanks. Not interested.”
I pass her a wry smile. “Not all games are boring.”
Able to sense the wheels spinning, she narrows her eyes on me. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ll see.” I jump up and walk into the house without a single look back.
Once inside, I head straight for the game room. I’m not sure how everyone will react to my idea, but we’re all adults. If I hadn’t consumed the number of beers I have, I probably wouldn’t suggest this, but I need something to cut through the constant push and pull between Asher and me. An icebreaker of sorts. In my experience, this game has always been great at doing just that.
“I told you, Chloe,” I say once I return to the patio, placing a box on the wicker coffee table. “Game night doesn’t always have to be boring. What do you guys think? Want to take things up a notch?” I float my eyes around our little party sitting on a pair of couches placed on either side of the coffee table, girls on one side and guys on the other. When my gaze stops on Asher, he swallows hard, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Or are you too chicken?”
