by Mari Madison
“Piper! Get back here!”
Rough hands grabbed me, jerking me backward. Only then did I realize I’d almost gotten myself run over by a second car. I tried to squirm away from my rescuer but Asher held me tight, my back pressed at his chest, his hands locked around my waist. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against my back. His hot breath at my neck.
“Let me go,” I whispered.
“No. Not until you calm down and tell me what the hell is wrong.”
I shut my eyes, sucking in a breath. “Please,” I whimpered. “I just want to go home.”
“Okay. I’ll drive you.”
“No. My car—”
“I’ll have someone bring it to you. You are clearly in no shape to get behind the wheel.”
I could feel my resolve slipping. My body, desperate to absorb his strength, even as my mind wanted to pull away.
“Piper.” His voice was in my ear now, raspy and pleading. “Please let me take care of you.”
Somehow I managed to nod, the fight going out of me, my shoulders collapsing. Asher led me over to a nearby bench then sat me down. Once I was settled, he ran over to the attendant and whispered something in his ear, before returning to me. Then, he sat down beside me, peering at me with those beautiful emerald eyes of his. And a face filled with concern.
“They’re going to get my car,” he informed me. “And when they do, I’ll take you home.” He paused for a moment, drawing in a breath. “But, Piper, please. Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”
I stared down at my hands. They were clenched into fists. White knuckles stretched over bone. I didn’t want to tell him. I really didn’t want to tell him. But what choice did I have?
“I’m afraid of the ocean,” I blurted out at last.
“Okay . . .”
I looked up, surprised, my eyes blurry with tears. “Okay?” I said doubtfully.
He shrugged. “Okay,” he repeated. “You’re afraid of the ocean. That’s all you had to say.”
I stared at him, relief washing over me in waves, and I allowed myself to take a shaky breath as I absorbed his words. Okay. It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay.
Suddenly okay felt like the most magical word in the English language and I almost laughed out loud in relief.
I didn’t know what I had expected from him. More jokes, maybe. A little incredulity? Perhaps disappointment, probably disgust. But now, as I looked into Asher’s eyes—his beautiful storm-tossed eyes—I saw none of the above. Nothing but concern swimming in their depths. The Joker was taking me seriously.
I forced myself to unclench my fists.
“So . . . at the wedding,” Asher added in a hesitant voice, as if he didn’t want to push me, “was this the real reason you freaked out?”
I nodded reluctantly, feeling my face burn in embarrassment from the memory. “Which is so stupid, I know,” I said. “I mean, I wasn’t in any danger whatsoever—and I totally knew it. And yet, I couldn’t help it. All I could think about was . . .”
I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn’t ready to talk about that part yet. Not with him anyway.
I waited for him to press me, to encourage me to spill the rest of the story. But to my surprise, instead, he pulled me into his arms. Part of me wanted to protest, to jerk away and put distance between us. But at the same time he felt so warm, so good. And so I found myself nudging closer instead, against my better judgment. Cradling my head against his chest, feeling his strong, steady heartbeat against my ear. Allowing him to stroke my hair with a gentle hand, his fingers weaving through the strands, sending chills down to my toes. His other hand remained securely clasped at my waist, keeping me flush against him. I closed my eyes, breathing in his musky, soapy scent.
If this was wrong, I didn’t want to be right.
“I feel like a moron,” I mumbled after a few moments. “You obviously went to great lengths to plan this whole thing. And I’m sure it must have cost a fortune.” I lifted my head. “Maybe you should go inside and see if there are any hot girls in there, hankering for a cruise.”
He laughed. “Is that what you think of me, Red?” he asked. “That I’m the type of guy ready to trade out his dates halfway through?”
I blushed. “But this isn’t a date,” I reminded him. “We’re just . . . coworkers.”
“Well, I don’t switch out my coworkers either, sweetheart. I asked you to dinner. And we’re going to have dinner.”
I looked up, eyes wide. “But I can’t . . . the boat . . .”
“I know,” he assured me. “And if you want to go home, I’ll take you home now. But I did sort of have another idea . . .”
I cocked my head in question. “What do you mean?”
He rose to his feet, holding out his hand. “Do you trust me?”
I paused, looking down at his hand. It was a loaded question, not that he would know that. I didn’t trust anyone. Not after the way I’d grown up. Trust meant making yourself vulnerable. Allowing people to hurt you. As I’d said to Jayden, I’d realized long ago the only person you could truly trust was yourself.
But I wasn’t going to get into all that now. And I was admittedly curious about this alternate plan he’d cooked up. So I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet, trying to ignore the sparks of electricity that crackled as our palms connected.
“This way, m’lady,” he said grandly.
I followed him around the restaurant, noting with appreciation how he chose to go the way that was further from the sea. As we came around the corner, my eyes caught sparkling Christmas lights decorating a small gazebo. Under the gazebo was a table with a white linen tablecloth, candles, and place settings for two.
Asher turned to me, a questioning look on his face. “What do you think?” he asked. “If you sit here, you can have your back completely to the water. You can pretend you’re in Kansas or something. Completely landlocked.”
I shook my head, marveling. “When did you set this up?” I started to ask. Then I remembered him whispering to the attendant. I thought he was getting his car. But clearly he had had other plans.
His eyes sparkled. “I figured you didn’t want to go into the restaurant. So why not have the restaurant come out to you?”
I smiled at him. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“Please. I love trouble. I live for trouble.” He laughed. “Now sit, woman. And let’s have this dinner you promised me.”
So we did. And a few minutes later three waiters appeared, carrying silver trays of food. They set them down in front of us and pulled off the lids, revealing an absolute feast underneath. Shiny lobsters and thick cuts of steak. Huge baked potatoes, buttery asparagus. I let out a low whistle.
“Think this will do?” Asher asked. “I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I ordered a little bit of everything.”
“Uh, yeah. This will more than do.” In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen such a feast in my life.
“Excellent. Then my work here is done.” He waited for the waiters to fill our water glasses, then held out his in a toast. “To my new producer,” he said. “Who has the amazing superpower of getting my ass out of bed at a decent hour.”
I giggled, grabbing my own glass. “To my new weatherman,” I said. “For showing me the ropes.”
“To my producer,” Asher added, “for managing to not fall asleep during the aforementioned showing of ropes.”
We clinked glasses and drank our water. The cold liquid quenched my parched throat and I let out a long breath. Here in the privacy of the gazebo, away from the churning sea, I was starting to relax, my panic subsiding and my stomach warming.
“Honestly,” I said, “I found the whole Weather 101 lesson really interesting,” I told him. “I mean, I love the idea that you can take all this information and mash it together
and get this bigger picture. Like a big weather puzzle, I guess.”
“That’s how my dad used to always describe it,” Asher agreed. “But when I was a kid, I used to think it was magic. I mean, we could be standing out in a perfectly blue-skied day and he’d open an umbrella. And lo and behold five minutes later the storm would roll in and everyone would be soaked—except for him.” He laughed. “He was so good at his job. And he loved it, too. It wasn’t just a job for him, you know? It was his passion.”
“He sounds like a great guy,” I said. “And he must be proud of you, too. Following in his footsteps and all.”
Asher didn’t reply at first and I watched as a shadow seemed to flicker over his face—just as it had earlier in the day when he’d brought up his dad. But just as I was about to question it, he shook his head and it was gone, as if it had never been there at all.
“So what’s your deal with the water, anyway?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Were you always afraid of it? Like, since you were a kid?”
I shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Did something happen? Something to scare you away?”
I set my fork down, staring at my plate.
“Sorry,” Asher said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked. We don’t have to—”
“My brother drowned,” I blurted out, before I even really realized I was doing it. “In the ocean. When I was six.”
Asher’s eyes widened in horror as I knew they would. As everyone’s did when they heard the tragic tale. And he didn’t even know the half of it. I felt my cheeks heat, waiting for the follow-up questions that were guaranteed to come. The ones that always came and that I could never truthfully answer.
Stupid Piper. Truly stupid.
What was I thinking, telling him this? I could have made up another excuse—any excuse. Like I’d seen Jaws too many times at an impressionable age. That jellyfish scared the shit out of me. Salt water made my skin turn green. Something—anything—except the truth.
But it was too late now.
“What happened?” Asher asked cautiously.
“He was playing in the ocean,” I said, repeating the story as I’d done a thousand times before—to police officers, EMTs, reporters. “Evidently he got caught up in a riptide or something that dragged him out to sea. He was only four—he couldn’t really swim. They”—I swallowed hard—“found his body three days later—washed up on the shore a few miles away.”
And it was my fault, I added silently, feeling the familiar lump rise to my throat. Completely my fault.
“I’m so sorry, Piper,” Asher said, his voice filled with sympathy. He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. I hadn’t realized how cold my skin had gotten until I felt his warm palm cover mine. “I can’t even imagine.”
I gritted my teeth together. “Well, anyway, it was a long time ago,” I muttered. It took everything I had not to pull my hand away. To deny myself the comfort he wanted to give me. Comfort I didn’t deserve.
I could feel his eyes on me, intense, searching. “I’m sure that’s not something that’s easy to get over,” he said quietly. “No matter how long ago it was. When I almost lost my father . . .” He trailed off. Then he shook his head. “Anyway, the water thing—it makes perfect sense. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Most people in your situation would probably feel the same.”
I could feel the tears springing in the corners of my eyes again. I squeezed them shut, trying to will them away. It was killing me how rational he was being about the whole thing. How kind. It was almost too much to bear. If only he knew the whole story. He wouldn’t be looking at me like this. With such sympathy in his eyes. He’d be looking at me with disgust.
The revulsion I deserved.
I swallowed hard, pushing back in my chair with a little too much force, causing it to crash to the ground. A waiter appeared immediately, asking if I was all right. He looked disdainfully at the chair, as if it itself was to blame for my actions.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked, rising to his feet. “Is it the ocean? We can go inside . . .”
I glanced over at the yacht club. Even from here I could see the chandeliers, dripping with crystals. The suits. The cocktail dresses. The warm woods and the bright lights. The pretty people.
Asher’s people. Asher’s world.
Another planet. Another solar system.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just . . . tired. Can we try this another time?”
Or, you know, like, never again?
“Of course.” Without hesitation he was at my side, escorting me back to the valet. Behind us, the waiters converged to take the plates away. Asher didn’t even acknowledge them. His attention was totally on me. I wondered what it must be like to live in such a world. Where you could waltz through life, never looking behind at the mess you made. At what you left others to clean up.
But that wasn’t fair. I was Asher’s mess. At least for the moment. And he was definitely cleaning up after me. I wondered if he regretted asking me out now. How my little performance tonight would affect our working relationship the next day. This is exactly why I shouldn’t be out here in the first place, I scolded myself. It only made things more complicated. And I really didn’t need complicated right now.
We reached the front of the restaurant and Asher handed my ticket to the valet. Then he led me back over to the bench we’d sat on earlier. Like a strange déjà vu. Back then I’d been in full-on panic mode. Now, I just felt sad.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to ruin tonight.”
Asher shook his head, looking at me with fond eyes. “You didn’t ruin anything. I had a great time.”
“Liar.”
He laughed. “Fine. I would have had a much better time if I thought you were enjoying yourself, too. But that’s my fault. I dragged you out here without ever asking if it was a place you wanted to be. And I’m sorry for that. The next time I take you out, I’ll let you choose.”
I looked up, surprised. Next time? After all I’d put him through, he still wanted a next time? My heart thudded in my chest.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he declared. “You agree to a do-over tomorrow night. And I will show up to work on time. Maybe even a little early, for extra credit.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s not even fair,” I protested.
His eyes zeroed in on mine. “Who said I played fair?” Then, as if to prove his point, he leaned in, pressing his mouth against my own.
Holy crap.
For a moment I couldn’t even react—just sat there like a freaking stone statue as his lips moved against mine, the slight hint of stubble on his chin lightly scraping my face. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears, blood pulsing at my temples as his hand curled into my own, squeezing it gently as his tongue coaxed my mouth open and slipped inside.
Sweet baby Jesus. Talk about unfair.
The kiss was soft. Almost hesitant at first, as if asking my permission before increasing in intensity. Not that my body, at that moment, had any capability left to say no. My toes were curling in my shoes, chills were running up and down my spine, and when he licked the seam of my lower lip, a soft moan escaped my throat. I could feel his mouth stretch into a pleased smile at that.
Permission granted.
His hands dropped to my sides, clamping down on my hips, pulling me closer to him, until I was practically sitting in his lap. Locked secure against him. I didn’t try to pull away. I don’t know if I could have, even if I’d wanted to.
Feeling suddenly brave, I reached up, digging my fingers into his hair, which turned out to be so much softer than I’d imagined. He groaned in response, clearly seeing my boldness as an invitation to push his mouth harder against mine, the kiss becoming deeper and hungrier and more urgent by the second. I kissed him back, trying to m
atch his intensity, and all the while my stomach spun into a tailspin of crazy and my body melted like Jell-O in the heat. I dropped my hands to his shoulders to steady myself, rejoicing in the feel of corded muscle flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt. In fact, in that moment it was all I could do not to reach down under that shirt and run my hands up his chest. Exploring the hard steel inlaid under soft skin.
I knew that was wrong of course. Hell, I knew all of this was wrong. I shouldn’t have been kissing Asher Anderson. My coworker, my boss, the holder of my future. But somehow I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. The night had been such a flurry of ups and downs, highs and lows, joys and sorrows. I needed something like this now. Something where I didn’t have to think. I could just be. And feel.
And oh God, did he feel good.
“Ahem. Um, your car, ma’am?”
I jerked at the sound of the valet’s voice, breaking through the fantasy. I pulled away, my heart thudding in my chest. My whole body vibrating with need. I glanced over at Asher, who was looking just as dazed, blinking a few times before turning to the valet. As if he’d just woken up from a deep sleep.
Or maybe a perfect dream.
I watched as he shook himself, laughing. Then he gave the valet a scolding look. “Might want to work on your timing, buddy,” he said dryly. But he handed the guy a big wad of bills anyway. Then, he turned to me, reaching out and taking my hands in his own. His hands were huge, I suddenly realized. Able to swallow mine whole.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said.
I nodded, still feeling like I was on some distant cloud. My lips still swollen from the kiss. “Bright and early,” I managed to say.
A smile danced on his face. “I assure you, sweetheart. The early bird will have nothing on me.”
twelve
