Bree held up an odd-shaped, yellow-striped glass bowl to the light, enjoying the play of color through the glass. “You have to make a decision. Tonight. The store closes in half an hour.” Setting down the bowl, she turned to see Ash standing with his hands in his pockets as if he feared breaking something.
“What do you think I should get them?”
Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “I’ve been suggesting things for the past hour.”
“And I said ‘fine’ to each of them.”
“You were supposed to be deciding which ones suited Greg and Susie most.” How clueless could he get? Or was he trying to piss her off for some reason? Maybe he just was too lazy to make a choice.
He looked so lost in the large department store. Totally out of his element. She should take pity on him and just pick something. “I suppose we need to make it look like something you’d have chosen. What about that ice bucket, the stemware and ale glasses?”
Ash nodded. “Yeah, they might believe I’d pick those.” Then he grinned. “Well, Mark knows better.”
“Great, let’s get these paid for and see if they gift wrap.”
When they reached her apartment complex, Ash pulled into a parking space. Bree unbuckled her seatbelt and asked, “Do you want to come up?”
He studied her for a few moments before answering. “Yeah, sure.”
Wow, that was encouraging. Maybe she had completely misunderstood his asking her to be his date. She had no intentions of seducing him-she wasn’t desperate to get laid. It had been a while, but not that long. Ash always made her laugh, though, so she didn’t want the evening to end just yet.
Once inside her apartment, she flipped on some lights and walked to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to eat or drink? I can do sandwiches or a salad pretty quickly.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
She muttered, “Which one?” as she pulled a bottle of light ale out of the fridge. She poured it into a glass and did the same with some chardonnay for herself. She kept bags of salad “fixings” on hand for quick dinners, so she quickly threw them in a bowl and tossed them with vinaigrette before serving some on plates. After making turkey, ham and provolone sandwiches, she carried it all into the living room.
Ash quickly reached for half a sandwich. “I wasn’t thinking. I should have taken you to dinner.”
“There wasn’t time beforehand, with traffic and all. This is fine for me. I don’t like to eat out all the time.”
He nodded and kept eating.
They were mostly quiet until the food was gone, and then things turned awkward. They could talk up a storm at work or when they went for drinks with the crowd, but Bree was suddenly unable to think of anything to say.
Ash got up and walked to the sliding glass door that looked out over Lake Merritt. She rarely closed the blinds because there were no buildings nearby that were tall enough to see into her apartment. Ash shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Gorgeous view.”
“Isn’t it? I love seeing the moonlight on the lake and all the city lights. It’s so magical.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Moonlight and city lights are preferred to sunshine on the beach?”
She held up her arm, her pale skin glowing in the lamplight. “They don’t make an SPF high enough for my vampire skin. Do you like the beach?”
He nodded. “I used to surf in high school and college.”
“You gave it up when you got a job?”
“Not really gave it up as never found time to go. I keep saying I’ll take a week off in the summer and head down to Malibu or Redondo Beach, but it always seems there’s a deadline looming and I put off vacation.”
She tipped her head to one side and studied him. He looked like a surfer dude who would drop everything at the news of heavy surf. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”
“Three years ago.”
“Basically on your first anniversary at BA Games.”
“Yeah, pretty much. But it was a good one. A hurricane off the coast of Mexico created some awesome waves all the way up to L.A.” His face lit up and his arm came up and moved like a crashing wave, then he wobbled like he was on a surfboard. “Huge, crashing hard. We stayed out of the water on the worst days, but when it got safer, we dove in.”
The change in him when he talked about surfing surprised her. He was such a happy guy all around, a wise ass even in meetings, but now he was animated and excited, just from the memory. “You can surf up here, too, you know.”
He shrugged. “Until recently, I was always out too late on Friday and Saturday nights to get up early enough to hit the beach.”
And he wasn’t the type to call in late to work.
“Speaking of which…” He took a step or two into the room.
“Can’t stay out late on a school night?” she teased.
“Something like that.” But he didn’t move toward the door.
Bree rose and picked up their glasses. Ash quickly dove to grab the plates. When Bree set the glasses in the sink, she turned and found herself trapped by Ash. He was so close, his warmth and his scent enveloped her. Butterflies stirred in her stomach as she breathed in the clean, masculine smell. Try as she might to not do so, she swayed a bit in his direction, wanting to feel his lips on hers.
Ash leaned in, too, then pulled back. He took a step closer and set the plates on the counter without breaking eye contact.
The butterflies multiplied as if she’d never been kissed. Her tongue swiped her lips just as Ash planted his hands on the counter on either side of her. She drew in a breath and narrowed the distance between them.
His touch was warm and gentle. Her eyes closed as she parted her lips to welcome his searching tongue. Her hands pressed against his back, pulling him closer. When her breasts rubbed against his shirt, she moaned.
He echoed the sound, and then his mouth was gone. Bree opened her eyes. Ash was still close, his eyes looking as heated as she felt.
“I should go.”
“Should you?” she asked.
“Yeah. Or neither one of us will make it to work tomorrow.”
Bree sighed and followed him to the door. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Three
At the end of the week, Bree rode the elevator in her apartment building with Ash pulling her suitcase. She was so pleased she had gotten everything she needed into one large, wheeled bag, except for her dress, which was in a garment bag. They’d left work early because of a storm heading toward the lodge. They hoped to beat the weather up the mountain.
When Ash’s small hybrid car began the climb into the mountains, Bree leaned back in the passenger seat with her eyes clamped shut. She hated windy roads. She hated the drop-offs, especially ones where you could see there were no rocks or outcroppings to stop a rolling car. When you added in blind curves in failing light, and a dusting of falling snow, she needed a good stiff drink. Or a barf bag.
“How are you doing?” Ash reached across and squeezed her hand.
She refused to open her eyes. “I’ll be better when we get there. Although I might need another hour or two to stop shaking.”
“I’m sorry about the weather.”
“It’s not like you planned it,” she said. His voice, a rough-edged tenor with a hint of surfer to it, calmed her in a way even a drink couldn’t. It was like someone running his fingertips over the skin of her back, sending her tension scurrying. She needed him to keep talking. “What’s your ex’s name, again?”
“Jillian.”
“Well, I hope we don’t run into Jillian until some of the green has left my complexion. She might think I’m one of your animations.”
He laughed and went quiet again.
Bree peered through the barest slit in her eyelids and watched him concentrate on the road. Darkness had fallen quickly due to the storm, but the dashboard gauges lighted his face. How sad he’d married a woman who couldn’t app
reciate him. He was such a nice guy. In a good way. Nice, and sexy and funny. She always knew when someone had stopped in his cubicle because of the laughter ringing out.
When Ash turned the car into the lodge parking lot, Bree sat up and sighed with relief. With any luck, Sunday would be sunny and they could leave in the daylight. She pressed a hand to her stomach, willing the muscles to relax.
Ash carried their luggage and Bree held her dress bag away from the dirty snow piled near the walkway. He took care of registration, got their key cards and led her back out into the covered passageway to the wing where their room was.
“Who plans a wedding in the winter in the mountains?” she muttered, holding the lapels of her coat closed.
“Greg and his fiancée Susie are avid skiers.”
“I like to ski, too, but behind a boat. And with no snow around.”
He grinned. “I’ll take a Jet Ski any day.”
He opened the door to their room and let her enter. She glanced at the one queen-sized bed and wondered if they’d actually get any sleep over the next few days. It could be he just wanted to keep up he impression they were a couple, but the chemistry between them was hot and she was more than willing to see where it would take them.
As she hung her dress and unpacked, Ash flipped through apps on his cell phone. After listening to his voicemail, he swore and tossed the phone on the bed. Grabbing his garment bag from where he’d draped it over a chair, he strode past her to the closet.
“Bad news?”
“Nah, just something I should have expected. I’m not the guy you want to plan your bachelor party.”
She frowned. “Uh-oh, what happened?”
“Nothing major. The stripper cancelled, is all. She’s afraid to drive up the mountain and get stuck in the snow.”
Placing her hand on his sleeve, she said, “I’m sorry, Ash. That sucks. But you have movies and lots of drinks, right?”
He shrugged her aside and crossed back to his suitcase. “Yeah, but that’s not a real party. That’s a bunch of frat boys hanging out.”
Bree walked to the mini fridge and looked inside. No alcohol, but there was plenty of bottled water. She opened one and sat on the edge of the bed, ideas of how she might help churning through her head. “How close is the town?”
“I don’t know. But the only strippers I found online were off the mountain. I guess there isn’t much work for one in a town of three-hundred people.”
She stared at her bottle, swirling the water around as her thoughts continued to wander. She’d bet Ash didn’t know how she put herself through art school. And even if he did, he wouldn’t have the nerve to ask her to help. But no, that would be a really bad idea. The whole logistics of it didn’t add up. Not when he needed to make a good impression in front of Jillian. She shoved the thought aside.
Ash sat down at the small table in the corner, opened his laptop and began tapping keys. He had to be hunting for entertainment. She remembered the look on his face when he mentioned his ex-wife, and how he hadn’t been good enough for her. He really wanted to blow away his friends, let them see he was more than a gamer boy.
This was important to him. If she had any heart at all, she would help. He might not even accept her offer. But she had to ask. “Um, Ash? If you don’t find another stripper, I have an idea.”
He looked up, his expression blank. She stood, set down her water and straightened her sweater as she walked toward him, gently swaying her hips a bit more than usual. “Did I ever tell you how I put myself through college?”
He shook his head, his lips pressed thin and turned down at the corners. “Can we talk about this a bit later? The party is in a couple of hours and I need to figure this out.”
Should she just do it? It couldn’t hurt. Crossing her arms and grabbing the hem of her sweater in both hands, she lifted it over her head and tossed it in his face. Strutting closer, she turned his chair, planted her hands on the wooden arms and leaned forward, allowing her breasts to practically fall out of her demi-bra, right in his face. “I was a stripper.”
Ash’s gaze locked on her breasts and he appeared to stop breathing. She’d always been proud of her implants. Best investment she ever made. Even after she quit dancing and got a “real” job, she loved the way her clothes fit. She was tall enough to carry them off without looking plastic, and her tiny waist made them look that much bigger. They made her feel so much more feminine than the little mounds she’d been born with.
When he still didn’t speak, Bree stood and reached behind her back for the hooks of her bra. “Should I show you a sample routine?”
He shook his head. “No, God no.”
Her stomach clenched as if he’s punched her. She crossed her arms over her bra. “Sorry I asked. I was just trying to help.”
“Wait, that’s not what I meant. If you take off your bra I won’t make it to the party.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much choice but to use you.”
Ouch. Strike two. That was payback for her lack of excitement when he asked her to come with him to the wedding. She straightened and backed away, looking for her sweater. “Well, hey, I don’t want to spoil the party.”
With a confused frown, he shook his head. “No, no way would you spoil anything. The guys will love you.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Ash rose from his chair and walked away. “Yeah. I guess. Am I missing part of this conversation?”
Holding her sweater in front of her breasts, she tried to figure him out. “If you’d rather I didn’t...I mean, I guess you don’t want everyone to see me strip tonight and then I show up as your date tomorrow. That wouldn’t impress anyone.”
He laughed, the tension line between his brows fading. “More likely it would impress the fuck out of the guys but they’d never admit it.”
“But it would make Jillian think you’d turned out exactly like she expected. Frat boy dates stripper girl.”
His smile was sweet. She walked over to him, took his chin in her hands and leaned closer. Pressing her lips to his, she tasted the mint of his gum on his breath just before she found his tongue. He kissed her back gently, but with restrained passion that she sensed just beyond her reach.
When she pulled away, his eyes were smoky. He inhaled deeply. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you sure you want me to? It’s your call, Ash. In the long run it all reflects on you.” Before he could answer, an idea hit her. “Wait. How long do I have to get ready?”
“About an hour and a half.”
“Perfect! They’ll never recognize me as your date when they see me tomorrow.”
Taking a step back, he looked down her figure and back up again. “Somehow I can’t believe that. Maybe if you wore a fat suit tomorrow.”
She laughed and winked at him. The look in his eyes made her want to forget all about the bachelor party and go straight to the fucking. “I’m serious. It’ll work. Is it a plan?”
“I guess it is.”
Chapter Four
Ash double-checked the DVD-player and movies one more time in the private meeting room he’d reserved at the lodge. He raked his hair back off his face as he looked around. Bartender—check. Dim lighting—check. iPod wirelessly routed into the speaker system—check.
He glanced at the time on his phone. He was crazy letting Bree strip for them tonight. What was he thinking? He could care less what Jillian thought of his date being a stripper, that wasn’t what bothered him. He’d grown past that point a long time ago when he accepted his artistic talent as valuable. He had a job doing what he loved. He made damned-good money. In a few years, he could think about looking for an art director position if he decided to.
Jillian didn’t play into his thoughts at all where Bree was concerned. No fucking comparison between them. But how was he going to handle it when his friends began hounding after Bree when she took off her clothes? When they started pawing at her? Let them find their own damn women.
Shit. He didn’t want to share.
Hell, it had taken him four months to get the courage to even ask her out. She was so fucking hot, he turned into a babbling idiot any time he tried to suggest anything more than drinks with the crowd from work.
And now he was letting his buddies have a crack at her? Not just no—fuck no.
That would make the party one to remember, if he policed the entire night making the guys keep their hands to themselves. His friends would never let him live it down. He needed to suck up and be a man about it. Trust that if she was as interested in him as she seemed last weekend, she’d go back to his room—not someone else’s—at the end of the night.
The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and raucous laughter. Greg and the ushers had arrived. “It’s party time,” Ash yelled.
Chris, a frat buddy, answered with a howl. Ash turned up the music as the others headed to the bar. The porn movies played silently on the big screen in the background while the guys laughed and toasted Greg.
Ash repeatedly glanced at his phone and worried that Bree would back out. Or that she’d show up. He wasn’t sure which was worse. The guys seemed to be having fun. Just seeing each other after four years made for good times. But that wouldn’t last long. A bachelor party meant certain expectations.
Their voices got louder after a few drinks as everyone loosened up. A total of eight guys were there, not including the bartender. A few guests probably hadn’t wanted to make the snowy drive in the dark and he assumed they wouldn’t be coming.
Just when he was about to step outside and call her, Bree slipped in the door. In the dim lighting, Ash had to look twice to be certain it was really Bree. She’d curled her hair into tight coils. All those luscious miles of auburn locks tossed about her head in wild abandon. He sucked in a breath. Even with her heavy coat on, she was a knockout.
Her green eyes were heavily lined, and he thought she might have false eyelashes on. Her eye shadow was darker than she wore for work and it made her eyes even more beautiful. She looked like she’d walked out of a photo shoot. For Playboy, or one of the classier online sites. Ash strolled over to her, trying hard not to grin like a horny teenager. “You made it.”
Destination Weddings: Books 1-3 Page 2
