Starcrossed Colorado (Hart County #1)

22. Ashford

TWENTY-TWO

Ashford

I sat at the desk in my office, staring at my computer screen. But really, I was listening for the end of Emma’s piano lesson with Mrs. Stuckey’s grandson. Mrs. Stuckey had taught piano herself for the last several decades, but apparently, her own grandkid was the one student she couldn’t handle. Yet for Emma, the kid was sitting still and making progress.

Objective evidence proved it. Emma was amazing.

Within minutes of Mrs. Stuckey and her grandson leaving the building, Emma opened the door to my office. She closed and locked it behind her, resting against it. “How long do we have?”

I was already out of my chair and rounding the desk to meet her, tugging off my T-shirt along the way. “Twenty minutes. Grace is taking Maisie to lunch.”

“Perfect.” Emma took off her top, revealing a skimpy, translucent bra underneath. Simple, yet so sexy.

I pushed her up against the door and claimed her mouth.

The past two weeks had been like this. On the surface, my life was pretty much the same as always. My summer schedule of classes. A few new training clients. Plenty of father-daughter time with Maisie, with the welcome addition of Emma in all our daily activities.

But in between, at every opportunity we got to be alone, Emma and I fucked like wild bunnies.

My tongue drove between her lips. She moaned and sucked on it with abandon, just like she’d sucked my brain out through my cock last night. Just thinking about that, combined with the sight and scent and feel of her right in front of me, made me so hard I was lightheaded.

Tugging down the straps of her bra, I pulled the cups below her breasts and flicked her nipples with my thumbs. Emma pushed her hands past the waistband of my athletic pants and palmed my ass.

She pulled her mouth away from mine. “Commando?”

“Figured that would save a couple of seconds.”

Emma grinned wickedly. “I had the same thought.”

With a growl of lust, I spun her and bent her over my desk. A couple of papers fluttered down to the floor. A moment later I had her shorts down around her ankles so she could step out of them. Her bare bottom was right there beneath, that naughty little music-note tattoo greeting me. No panties.

While I teased her between the legs to make sure she was wet, I tugged at my own pants with my other hand. My erection popped out, thick and eager.

Within minutes of her appearing in my office, I was pumping inside of her, both of us taking advantage of the empty building by being as loud as we wanted.

“Ashford,” she begged, “touch me. I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you, baby.” I reached around to find the sensitive nub of her clit and massaged it, the rhythm matching the thrusts of my hips. “That’s it. You take me so well. Come for me. I need to feel you squeezing my cock.”

She cried out, grabbing hold of the edge of the desk. More papers went flying. I sank myself into her as deep as I could go and groaned through my release.

“Holy shit,” I said hoarsely.

She hummed with her eyes half closed and smiled.

Clean up was a necessary evil. But by the time we were dressed and eating the sandwiches we had made together in the kitchen that morning, we still had another few minutes. I sat in my desk chair with Emma in my lap. The best spot for her, in my opinion.

“Mrs. Stuckey kept winking at me after her grandson’s lesson. Asking if I’ve been up to anything interesting. She definitely knows.”

“I think all of Silver Ridge knows by now. I stopped at the market this morning, and Dixie put a case of sports drinks in my cart. She said I needed to, and I quote, ‘replenish all the electrolytes I’ve been losing’.”

Emma snorted.

Last week, Callum, Elias, and Judson had asked me point-blank at the gym if Emma and I were seeing each other. I had confirmed it. My brother had gotten all smug, acting like the whole thing had been his idea and he deserved the credit.

“Dibs on being best man at the wedding,” he’d said.

“It’s a summer fling, dumbass,” I had responded. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Then Judson had asked, in that serious voice of his, “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

As if it could be anything else.

But they had respected my request to not say anything around Maisie. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea. We had blurred enough lines already. Like having almost every meal together and making Emma a part of bedtime.

Plus inviting Emma and Stella on the camping trip I had planned for the beginning of August. A couple weeks or so from now.

The only member of the Lonely Harts club who hadn’t brought up my “fling” was Grace. I had no idea what my little sister thought of it, and if she wasn’t speaking up, then why should I go looking for trouble? Same with the sudden lack of phone calls from Los Angeles area codes.

Maybe Ayla had finally given up.

I didn’t want to question it.

Usually, my baseline was making sure that my kid was happy. But these days, I actually felt good too. Thinking about all the shit that could happen, that would happen at the end of the summer, would just ruin it.

Emma made me so happy, and why shouldn’t I get to enjoy that while I could?

By the time we said goodbye in my office, Emma’s lips were swollen from kissing me. “Send Maisie up when she’s home?” she asked. “I’ll feed her a snack and then take her and Stella to the park for the afternoon.”

“Sounds good.”

I watched her jog upstairs, then waited in the lobby with the front door open for Grace and Maisie to arrive. They charged up the sidewalk a couple of minutes later, laughing about something.

“Head upstairs for a snack, Mais.”

“I get to play with Emma and Stella?”

“Yep. You’re going to the park.”

“Yay! Bye, Aunt Grace!” Maisie ran upstairs.

I thanked my sister for watching her. Grace also needed some upgrades done in her kitchen, which I’d volunteered to do for her, so I double-checked her paint color choices and let her know I’d stop by in a couple days.

But after all that was settled, Grace lingered in the lobby. “Seems like Maisie is getting really close to Emma.”

“She is.”

“What about you? From what I hear, you’ve been getting very close to Emma too.”

Uh oh. This was the conversation I’d been hoping to avoid. “You already said you don’t approve of Emma and me being together.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s how I remember it.”

“I said I didn’t want you getting hurt, but I also acknowledge you’re a grown man who can make his own decisions.”

“Who’s also older than you.”

“Do you really want to have a discussion about age differences?” She smirked, knowing she had me there. “I don’t disapprove. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Yet you don’t sound happy yourself.”

She made a face. “I told you I wanted to work through some things.” Grace glanced at the open doorway and sighed. “Elias asked me out.”

“He did what ? When?”

“Yesterday. But you can’t get mad. Not after you basically just told me to stay out of your business.”

“It’s different. I’m your older brother.” I had a big brother’s instinctual skepticism of any man who asked out his younger sister. Elias was a great guy though. One of my best friends.

“I’m not going to acknowledge the inherent sexism in that statement. Or the fact that it’s not surprising.” Grace pushed her glasses up her nose and crossed her arms over her middle. “I just wanted to let you know. I haven’t even decided whether I’ll say yes.”

“Why not? You’ve known him long enough. If you like him, I can deal with it.”

“I know. But when Elias asked, it dawned on me that I hadn’t dated anyone since college.” Grace shifted uncomfortably. “And it’s not like I don’t want to. Something’s been holding me back, and I don’t know what it is.”

I pulled my sister into a hug. “You’ll find the right person, whether that’s Elias or someone else. And I’ll be there for you. The O’Neals stick together.”

“So we’re good? You and me? Even with my unwelcome opinions on you and Emma.”

“Of course we’re good. Always.” No matter what happened, I had my family’s back when it mattered. And I knew they had mine.

I could trust that Grace would never say I told you so .

Grace took off, and I had my afternoon martial arts classes. The little kids were only here a couple times a week, but nearly every day I offered classes for teenagers and adults working toward their higher-level belts. Those classes were fun and satisfying, and I felt the good sort of worn out afterward.

Not as good as the kind of worn out I got after alone time with Emma. But still. Satisfying.

While I was in class, Emma had sent me a text of Maisie and Stella rolling in the grass at the park. I smiled and sent back a reply, saying I was about to head out to join them. I was feeling left out. Maybe we’d grab burgers after. Or mix it up and go to the taco truck.

I just had a few chores to deal with on my way out the door.

After showering and changing into jeans and a fresh shirt, I emptied the lobby trash, grabbed my keys, and headed out the back door.

Then I froze when I saw some asshole in a hoodie digging in my trash cart.

“Hey,” I bellowed. “What the hell are you doing?”

Not like I would’ve minded if somebody was hungry and looking for scraps of food. If he was that desperate, I would’ve bought the guy a meal myself. But this person didn’t look homeless. He wasn’t holding food, either. The guy had ripped open one of the plastic bags and held some crumpled papers in his fist.

He shoved the papers into the pocket of his hoodie and took off at a sprint.

“Hey!” I dropped the trash bag I was holding and ran after him.

The guy was rangy and fast. He broke left, cutting through a gap between two buildings. But I was gaining on him. I swiped at the back of his sweatshirt, my fingertips brushing the fabric. The guy darted right, treading over Mrs. Dominguez’s prized vegetable garden. Which delayed me slightly because no way was I trampling her tomato plants. I’d never hear the end of it if she caught me on her doorbell camera.

As he crossed the next street, I tackled him on a burst of speed. He landed in the dirt. I still hadn’t seen his face, and I wanted to know who I was dealing with.

Pinning him in place so he couldn’t run again, I yanked the guy’s hoodie back.

“ Sheldon ?”

It was the property manager from the Ponderosa Apartments. The jerk who’d been so rude to Emma about her leaky ceiling.

He held up his hands in a warding-off gesture. “Don’t hit me, bro. Don’t hit me!”

I let go of his collar in disgust and stood. “I’m not going to hit you.”

“Or karate chop me. Whatever. I didn’t mean anything by it, okay?”

“You were stealing from my trash!”

Sheldon pulled the papers out of his pocket. I swiped them from his hand and looked them over. A few packing slips from deliveries I’d received. Stuff nobody could care about.

I didn’t get it.

“The hell were you doing going through my trash? Have you been following Emma around? Are you stalking her?”

“No way. Just peeked in the cart a few times. You threw the stuff away, so you didn’t want it anyway, right? The guy said it was easy money. If I found anything interesting, I could send him a picture of it, and I’d get a deposit to my Venmo.”

I grabbed his collar again, yanking him up to standing. “What guy? Who ?”

“I don’t know. I swear. He sent an email to me. I never met him in person.”

“Which of us were you spying on? Emma or me?”

“Both of you, I guess. Plus, you know…your little girl.”

I saw red. Fury surged through my system. It took all my self control to keep from throttling him. “ Why ,” I said, low and dangerous.

“I didn’t ask. I just wanted the money. All I’ve found so far is some store receipts and a ripped-up greeting card and stuff, and he paid me like a hundred bucks.”

A greeting card. Oh, no. My stomach sank.

Please let me be wrong , I thought.

“I want this person’s email address, or I’m calling the cops right now.” I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though. If I called our local police department, there’d be no hiding my secret. Not anymore.

At least it seemed like Sheldon had no clue about Maisie’s famous aunt.

He took out his phone and opened his email app. “I didn’t do anything illegal. He told me if you throw the stuff in the trash, it’s abandoned property. But fine, whatever. He hasn’t wanted any of the stuff I’ve found lately anyway.”

Sheldon showed me the email chain. It was pretty much what he had said. Some creep had offered him money to paw through our building’s trash.

Besides, now that I thought about it, Sheldon was too tall to be the guy I had seen in the blue rain slicker.

I studied the email address of the man Sheldon had been communicating with. I didn’t recognize the name. But the website sounded familiar. A quick search on Google on my own phone confirmed it.

Sheldon had been emailing with someone from the Hollywood Star Post . A sleazy gossip tabloid. But what did they want with info on me?

Unless they knew about Ayla.