6. Maybe He Feels It, Too
Chapter 6
Maybe He Feels It, Too
Ori
“Y
ou need to stop being so damn happy,” Mina teases, giving me a playful elbow to the ribs as we tidy up the main counter area.
I cock a brow at my friend. “You prefer me scowling and surly?”
“Hell no. And thanks to Asher Hammond, you’re pure sunshine.”
Planting my hands on my hips, I pivot toward her, praying my poker face holds steady. “What makes you think my good mood has anything to do with Ash?”
She leans in with a conspiratorial wink. “Because every time you see him, you light up brighter than a damn Christmas tree. Admit it, you’re in love.”
Okay, that might be a bit of an overstatement. Ash and I have been dating for the last month, and it’s been perfect. But is it love? Am I ready for that idea with a man who claims to have shelved the concept a decade ago?
Better question—do I even have a choice in the matter when my heart has already made up its mind?
“I’ll admit no such thing,” I scoff, straightening a few items on the lower shelf.
But my firm denial doesn’t faze my friend. “I love the idea. You two hated one another and then, after one magical night—poof—true love finds its mark. It’s a fairytale, just with a bit more leather involved.”
“I never should have shared my thoughts on true love,” I mutter. Serves me right for waxing poetic while we unpacked antique books full of love stories last week.
“I love your romantic ideals. It’s refreshing in a world filled with jaded hearts.”
Call me a fool, but I’m a diehard believer that Prince Charming exists—and if you believe hard enough, and wish on enough stars, one day he’ll ride in and save you from a life of loveless drudgery.
I know I’ve read way too many romance novels, but what if Mina’s right? What if my prince has arrived? Only his horse is a Harley and he’s sporting a few more tats and piercings than my original vision?
“I thought, per you, no one tames Asher Hammond.”
Mina shrugs at my statement. “Every man’s a player until he meets the right woman. You told me that, Ori, and you were right.”
“Since when do you listen to me?”
“I always listen to my elders.”
That’s it. I’m drowning her in the bathroom sink. Elder, my ass.
But despite my snort of indignation at a twenty-five-year-old doling out relationship advice, Mina’s words resonate.
Dating is a game until you find someone who makes you want to play with a new set of rules. Ash never planned on me and I sure as hell didn’t see him coming, but maybe that’s the point.
Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.
He’s never outright said how he feels in the love department, but he shows me in a ton of little ways—dropping off my favorite foods when I’m working late, bringing me a vibrant Christmas cactus from the greenhouse at his farm, cleaning the snow off my truck so I’m not stuck scraping ice after dark—the list goes on.
Most importantly, it’s the absence of something—or should I say, someone . Over the past month, Ash has split his free time between Black Lotus , downstairs with the speakeasy crew, or at my apartment. There hasn’t been a hint of another woman, and that’s a big deal in Ash’s world.
We’ve never spoken about exclusivity, and I know Ash’s reputation all too well. He never settles down with one woman. Okay, maybe one woman a night, but never a monogamous, committed relationship.
Not his style—his words, not mine.
And I haven’t asked him.
The truth is, I’m a chicken-shit—terrified to find out we were special only in my head and unable to be angry because we never had any other type of arrangement.
But maybe I don’t have to ask. Aren’t his actions enough?
As if in answer to my question, my gaze falls on a package sitting by the front cash register. Like most deliveries, it’s addressed to me, but this one is different. I’d recognize Ash’s artistic penmanship anywhere.
Snatching up the package, I find a note tucked under the twine holding the burlap wrapping closed.
When I realized this book existed, I had to grab a copy for you.
Good bones, Ori, just like I told you. Take a peek at her former grandeur and tell me she isn’t worth every second and cent.
XOXO
Ash
I cut the twine, a smile stretching across my face as I hold up the book. It’s from a local printer, and they spared no expense with the embossed leather cover and gold leafing. But it’s the title that catches my attention.
“The Grand Dames of the Catskills,” I murmur, thumbing through the pages. Thanks to digital advances, photos once available only in black and white are now vibrant, showcasing the historic mansions that dot these mountains.
Then, I see them. Pages 45 to 61 contain photographs of my house—the one currently in a state of upheaval and disarray—captured in all her former glory.
Lavish gardens enclose the courtyards, where a fountain sprays water into the air. Soft lighting illuminates every corner, beckoning exploration. Each room sits adorned with rich wood paneling, polished floors that gleam like glass, and frescoed ceilings depicting Celtic mythology.
She’s stunning. Absolutely stunning.
“Wow,” Mina breathes, peering over my shoulder. “Is that your house?”
“Well, it was at one time.”
“It will be again. How are the carriage house renovations coming along? When can you move in?”
All good questions, but ones I don’t have solid answers for yet. Ash and Braden have finished demoing the interior, but between their other obligations, progress has stalled. With the speakeasy opening in a couple of months, Ash needs to focus his energy there, even though I know he feels like he’s letting me down.
Ash swears that once things calm down, he’ll focus on finishing the two-bedroom apartment, but there are only so many hours in a day—and he’s just one guy.
Plus, it’s barely crept above freezing for weeks, and space heaters aren’t exactly cutting it.
“Ash is stretched a bit thin lately, so not much is happening right now,” I admit. “I’m interviewing a few contractors who specialize in this type of restoration. That way, Ash can stay involved, but he doesn’t have to do all the heavy lifting. It’s a big project.”
“That’s an understatement,” Mina chuckles. “The place is enormous. The carriage house is twice the size of my mom’s home. You could fit ten of her houses inside the main dwelling.”
“So much space,” I murmur, tracing a photo of the once-magnificent gardens. “I can’t believe I own this place.”
Mina leans against the counter, flipping through a few pages. “Just think, soon you’ll have your dream home. I think your dad would be happy knowing that.”
Anger flares in my chest at the mention of my father. Mina is only trying to help, to soothe the wounds still festering in my soul from his absence.
But forgiveness feels impossible—now more than ever.
“I know you hate him, Ori, but whether he gave you the money out of guilt or love doesn’t matter as much as the fact that you were in his thoughts before he passed. I choose to believe he left that money as an apology, hoping you’d do something fabulous with it. And you have.”
“You’re right,” I admit, though my tone is hesitant. “Although I don’t know if she’s my dream home. She’s a bit of a nightmare right now.”
Mina waves away my concern. “Once you find the right contractor, you’ll be amazed at how quickly the renovations happen.”
“Let’s hope so. For now, I’m happy with these photos of her in her former glory.”
“She’s magnificent. Where did you find that book?”
“I didn’t. Ash did. He’s been telling me from the start that the house has good bones and all she needs is a little love. These photos certainly prove his point.”
“Proves my other theory, too.”
“Which is what?”
Mina shrugs, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “That you’re not the only one in love.”
“Will you stop with all the love and romance talk? I swear, if Ash hears you, he’ll run away screaming.”
“Or maybe he’ll surprise you,” Mina counters. “Maybe he feels exactly the same way, but worries that telling you will make you run away. Ever thought of that twist?”
I nibble my lip, her words sinking in more than I’d like to admit.
Maybe she’s right.
“I’m going to run next door and thank Ash for the book. Should I bring Braden back here as a gift for you?”
Mina gives an exasperated huff and turns away, but not before I catch the flush climbing her cheeks.
I love messing with her—and trust me, she gets her digs in, too.
I stroll next door to Black Lotus and pause at the reception desk, craning my neck to see if Ash is available. Unlike my store, there’s a high degree of intimacy and privacy involved in the parlor, and random intrusions are generally unwelcome.
Braden catches sight of me as he exits a room and shoots me a smile. “Hey, Ori. Everything okay?”
“Of course. I just wanted to thank your brother for a gift. Is he around?”
Braden glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “To be honest, I have no clue where he is. In fact, he hasn’t been at the farm for a few days, either. Any idea where he’s been hiding?”
I feel the color climb my cheeks because Braden knows damn well where his brother has been hanging his hat. But it’s far more fun to play coy.
With a shrug and an innocent smile, I turn toward the exit. “How should I know? The man’s a legend, remember?”
“In his own mind,” Braden replies, snorting out a laugh. “I’ll have him call you when he gets here.”
“Thanks.”
I push open the door, nearly colliding with another woman.
“Sorry about that,” I murmur, holding the door for her.
“No problem. Have a good one.”
I step outside but can’t help glancing back. The woman strides into the parlor with the kind of confidence I envy—like she owns the place. She waves to Braden before slipping into Ash’s office.
Odd. Braden wouldn’t let a client waltz into Ash’s inner sanctum when he wasn’t around.
Unless … she isn’t a client.
I scan my memory, trying to place where I’ve seen her before.
Then it hits me—she’s an editor or photographer for a top tattooing magazine.
She’s also gorgeous and busty, because of course she is.
The same woman who interviewed Ash for her magazine while attempting to ply him with drinks—a plan I spectacularly derailed with one supreme pizza and a very amateur lap dance.
So, why is she back here again?
I shrug off my curiosity, reminding myself there are plenty of facets to Ash’s job that I know nothing about.
Still, I’m not entirely thrilled about her comfort level with my man—professional or not.
And now I sound like a crazed, lovesick stalker.
Gah. I need to go.
Mina glances up as I walk back into One More Page , a look of surprise crossing her face. “That was fast.”
“He’s not there.”
“Is he playing hooky?”
“Likely. Braden didn’t know when he’d be in, but my guess is soon, since he has someone waiting. Either way, I’ll have to thank him later.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with all sorts of interesting ways.”
I chuckle and shake my head, but I don’t deny a damn thing. “Sadly, you and I are working late tonight, remember? He’ll have to wait for his thank-you gift.”
“I bet if he knew what you were offering, he’d find a way to make sure you closed early.”