7. Cue the Lube & Handcuffs
Chapter 7
Cue the Lube & Handcuffs
Ash
“T
he prodigal son returns.” Braden shoots me a smirk as I stroll into Black Lotus. “Where the hell have you been all morning?”
I roll my eyes at my brother, flipping through today’s mail. “I was at town hall, getting permits for the speakeasy. If you’d checked my schedule, you’d know that.”
“How’s that going? You on track to open on time?”
“Yep.” I am, too. The transformation—or shall I say, restoration—of our basement back to its original glory as a 1920s speakeasy is moving along without a hitch.
My crews aren’t thrilled about working overnight shifts, but it can’t be helped. The basement sits under Ori’s shop, and the grinding of power tools isn’t exactly great for business.
So, they work through the night, and I pay them accordingly.
Doesn’t stop them from bitching about it, though.
“And did you settle on a name?” Zane asks, leaning over the counter, a bottle of water in his hand.
“ Rum & Ruin. ”
“Good choice,” Braden replies, dusting his nails on his shirt.
Of course he says that—it was his first choice for a name.
Still, I can’t argue. It’s a great name, and damn, does she roll off the tongue, which is exactly what you want. If a name is catchy, people remember it—not that anyone will forget Rum & Ruin once she opens.
She’s going to be fabulous.
I feel eyes on me and glance up, my gaze shifting between Braden and Zane. Okay, something’s up, because these two look like the cat who ate the canary.
“Did I miss something?”
Braden bites back a grin. “You haven’t been home the last few nights.”
I scoff. “What are you, my mother?”
“I’m just curious where you’ve been. Helping the contractors?” With every word, his smile widens because my brother knows damn well that’s not the answer.
I cross my arms over my chest and rock back on my heels. “I crashed at Ori’s place. Is that okay with you?”
“You owe me twenty bucks.” Braden snaps his fingers at Zane.
“Damn it,” Zane mutters, pulling a twenty from his wallet and handing it to my brother.
I motion between the two men. “Wait a damn minute. You’re placing bets on where I’ve been sleeping?”
Braden shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Not where, so much as with whom. Zane figured you were changing it up, but I had a feeling you were with Ori every night.”
“You two need a damn hobby. What made you so certain I was with Ori, anyway?”
Braden rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms out. “You’ve been in a good mood the last few weeks. You’re always in a good mood around Ori.”
Damn, I didn’t realize it was that obvious. But being in a good mood is a good thing, right? Far better than being aggravated and uptight.
I click my tongue against my teeth, glancing toward One More Page. “What can I say? She’s a talented woman.”
Braden snorts, shaking his head. “You’re a dick.”
“What? It’s a compliment.” I snatch a few bucks from the register and motion toward Ori’s shop. “I’m grabbing a coffee. You want one?”
“Your girlfriend is going to have to wait,” Zane says, jerking his thumb toward my office. “You’ve got company.”
“Who?”
Please don’t tell me someone from the zoning board has decided to drop by unannounced. That would kill my good mood quick.
Zane smirks. “Casey Rinbauer.”
Also known as the lead talent scout for Ink Spot. The woman who, along with two of her friends, interviewed me last month for the magazine. The same woman who dropped plenty of hints about wanting to get to know me on a more intimate level—right before Ori burst into the room to stake her own claim.
To be honest, I’d forgotten all about her.
“What does she want?”
“She claims it’s a business proposition, but judging by her outfit, I’m not sure what kind of business she plans to conduct.” To emphasize his point, Zane mimics cupping an invisible chest, a smug grin plastered on his face.
Well, well, well. This should make for an interesting afternoon.
I stroll into my office and smile at the buxom beauty sprawled across my armchair. “Aren’t you a surprise?”
“A good one, I hope.” She slides off the chair, her voice a low purr as she perches on the corner of my desk.
“Always.” I play it cool, but I’m no fool—I smell trouble. Casey is gorgeous and used to getting what she wants. And right now, judging by the bedroom eyes that she’s flashing my way, she wants me.
Tricky, tricky.
Why? Because over the past month, I’ve been asked on about two dozen dates—give or take a handful. I’ve gone on zero. The renovations on the speakeasy have eaten up most of my free time. What little I have left, I spend with one woman—Ori.
Hey, I wasn’t kidding. She’s superbly talented—both in and out of the sack. Suddenly, other women don’t feel like a temptation anymore.
But Casey Rinbauer isn’t just any woman. She holds the keys to the proverbial city, and while I loathe the idea of singing for my supper, I’m not one to bite the hand that feeds me. A headlining feature in Ink Spot would be one hell of a feast for Black Lotus , putting the shop on the national map.
Still, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Just because most women around here seem to want nothing more than an evening with me between their thighs doesn’t mean that’s Casey’s deal.
Time to check my ego and hope her visit is purely professional in nature.
Casey leans over, dragging her nails down my arm. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight. There’s a business prospect I want to discuss with you. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”
She’s not asking, but rather demanding my presence, which hopefully means it really is only business.
“I’ll be back around six. Have a great day, Ash.”
Do I watch her ample assets sway out the door?
Fuck yes, I do. I’m not dead. I’m a single guy—kind of single—hell, I don’t know what I am anymore.
But for some reason, this dinner date doesn’t sit well with me at all.
Braden walks into my office uninvited and drops into the chair across from me, stretching his arms over the backrest like he owns the place. “Well? Was it a business or social call?”
I scratch my chin, frowning. “She asked me to dinner tonight to discuss some business proposition.”
“What kind of business?”
“She didn’t say.”
Braden rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Be careful. The woman’s fine as hell, but she’s trouble.”
“It’s a business meeting.”
“Sure, it is. Does Ori know?”
“We made plans five minutes ago.”
“Let me rephrase. Are you going to tell Ori?”
I tilt my head, resting my hands on the desk. “I don’t have to clear business meetings with Ori.”
Braden stays silent, his raised eyebrow saying everything.
“Aren’t you going to offer some brotherly advice? Maybe smack me upside the head?”
“Nope.” Braden shakes his head, staring at the far wall. “If you’re that fucking stupid, you deserve what you get.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet,” Braden adds, shooting me with a finger gun.
“Braden, Ori and I aren’t exclusive. We’re just hanging out.”
“Does she know that?”
“I made it clear the first night.”
Braden rubs the back of his neck, his expression shifting. “Well, that changes everything.”
“How so?”
“I can’t tell you how many guys come in here asking about Ori. I’ve been telling them she’s hands off, but I was mistaken. Seems she’s fair game, and that’ll make a lot of them happy.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“The next time one of them asks, I’ll let them know she’s single … because she is, right?”
I hate my brother sometimes. “Stay out of my love life.”
“We aren’t talking about your life, Ash. We’re talking about Ori. Seems if you’re on the prowl, she should be, too.”
I lean forward, my jaw tight with anger. “Don’t you say a fucking word to any of these guys. I don’t trust them around Ori.”
“You mean your girlfriend?”
I’m going to kill Braden. Son of a bitch won’t rest until I admit how I feel about Ori. And I can’t admit it—to him or myself.
Ori and I have been hanging out for a month, and it’s been bliss. She’s perfection—beautiful, smart, sweet, sexy as hell, and with a mouth that could wreck a man in the best ways possible.
If I were the marrying kind, she’d be it. But I’m not. So here we are.
Maybe one day, I’ll believe the bullshit I’m spinning in my head to cover the fact that I’m crazy about her. Wildly, wickedly, over-the-moon crazy about her. And that terrifies me. I swore I’d never walk that plank again. I can’t let my guard down—not even for Ori.
Especially not for Ori.
So, we keep things cool. The woman never pushes the issue. It’s as though she understands I’m like a cornered animal with the L-word. Any mention of it and I’ll be scoping out the nearest escape route.
We hang out, have amazing sex, and leave love to other people. Why mess with a good thing?
Still, this dinner with Casey feels wrong. And it shouldn’t.
I groan, tugging at my hair. “Braden, please don’t start. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m having dinner with a business associate who could help Black Lotus. I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity.”
“Maybe.” Braden shrugs, pushing himself from the chair. “But some would say you’re a fool for passing up your other opportunity.”
At the door, he gives the wall a couple of taps. “Be careful, man. I love you and want you happy. But Ori’s my friend, too. Don’t play her. Just be straight with her.”
“This place is fantastic,” Casey gushes as we stroll into the trendy seafood restaurant.
She’s not lying.
“It’s been a huge hit. They even get people from the city up here to sample the chef’s wares.”
Casey pivots, running a finger down the button-front of my shirt. “I know some other wares I’d like to sample.”
Oh fuck. Here we go.
Two months ago, I would have dragged her to the nearest bathroom and ripped that skintight sheath of a dress from her body.
Now, all I can manage is an uncomfortable laugh as my brother’s warning swirls in my head.
Did I tell Ori where I was going? Sure, I mentioned I had a last-minute business meeting.
Did I offer specifics? Not a one.
Why borrow trouble when I don’t know how tonight will play out?
But as Casey links her arm through mine, it seems she has a really good idea, which only serves to further addle my brain.
Is Casey attractive? Without a doubt. She’s hot as fuck, and I’ll put money on the fact that she can work her body like it’s nobody’s business.
But somehow, the idea of sinking inside any woman besides Ori just isn’t appealing anymore.
My best option is to play it cool and keep it professional. That is why Casey requested this dinner meeting, even if we both know her reason is bullshit.
We settle into a booth, and right off the bat, she orders some wine—an overpriced luxury blend that’s no doubt one of Casey’s power moves, designed to loosen me up in all the right ways.
Hate to break it to her, but I can afford the bottle, too.
She clinks her glass against mine, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s been too long, Asher Hammond. You’ve been too damn busy.”
“You know I’m opening the speakeasy. Time is at a premium these days.”
“Sure there isn’t something else usurping your time? Or should I say, someone?”
“Casey, I highly doubt your bed has been cold.”
“Not as warm as if you were in it.”
Her words should excite me, but they only make me want to leave.
I lean my forearms on the table, a snicker slipping past my lips. “You told me this dinner was about a business proposition. What kind of deal are we discussing?”
She smirks and trails her foot against my pant leg. Subtle, she is not. “Who says it can’t be both? Work first, then play later.”
I lean back with a sigh, running a hand over my jaw. All the while, Braden’s voice echoes in my head, reminding me I knew better—and I did it, anyway.
Best idea? Cut this dinner short with a strategically placed call from the shop or the farm and get the hell out of here before Casey strips me down tableside.
Part of me can’t believe I’m actually running away from this.
Ash, you’ve truly lost it this time.
Thankfully, our server brings out our appetizers, interrupting Casey’s foot play and offering me some much-needed breathing room.
“This looks amazing,” I state, popping a shrimp into my mouth.
“Here.” Casey offers me an oyster, tipping it up to slide it into my mouth. “One of the world’s great aphrodisiacs.”
The oyster should go down smooth, but with her gaze locked on mine, it feels like swallowing gravel.
God help me, I’m never making it through this dinner.
“Are you attached to Sparkwood? The New York area?”
Casey’s sudden segue startles me, though I’m grateful for the shift to a benign topic.
“Yeah, my shop is here, along with the speakeasy.”
She nods, sliding another oyster into her mouth. Licking her lips, she fixes me with a gaze that dares me to take the bait. “True, but there’s a whole world out there, full of artistry and excitement. What if you got a seat at that table?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“After your piece in Ink Spot, we got a ton of calls. Mostly about how gorgeous you are—which I agree with—but several about your linework and portraiture skills. People from all over the world want you to ink them.”
“Awesome. Send them to Black Lotus .”
Yes, it’s an ego boost to know that not only do people admire my outer wrapping, but they’re damn impressed by the creativity that flows from the inside.
“But sending them here to Sparkwood isn’t your idea, is it?”
Casey shakes her head, inching closer to me, her foot once again brushing against my shin. “I want to take you on the road, to all the best shops in the world, where you’ll have lines of fans clamoring for you.”
“ You want to take me?” I clear my throat, moving my leg out of her reach.
“ Ink Spot does, but I’ll be your traveling companion. Imagine all the fun we’ll have.”
“Tons,” I murmur, my emotions a tangled mess.
See, Casey’s offer is the stuff of legends. Every artist dreams of that kind of recognition, and I’d be a fool to refuse it.
But what about Black Lotus ? What about Rum & Ruin ?
What about … Ori?
“What do you think?” Casey purrs, dragging her nails along my thigh. “Sound good so far?”
“It does. So,” I state, swirling the wine in my glass and trying to find my center, “give me the details. Where, for how long, that sort of thing.”
“Hmm. Wherever you like, for as long as you like.”
Her hand creeps further up my leg. With a nervous chuckle, I grab her hand and place it back on the table.
Jesus Christ, she’s persistent. Never thought that would be a turnoff.
“Seriously, Casey. I need details.”
“Cut to the quick. No foreplay for you.” Casey leans back, a bemused smirk on her darkly stained lips. “Just the way I like it.”
“You’re asking me to upend my life, so I need a bit more information. And for the record, I’m a huge fan of foreplay.”
Just not with you, Casey.
I should have said the words out loud, even if they were biting, because now she’s kicked it into high gear.
“Why don’t we get our food to go, and I’ll tell you all the details at my hotel suite? I’ll order another bottle of wine and then show you all the goodies I brought along. Handcuffs, flavored lube—one for every mood. What do you say?”
“Yes, Asher, what do you say?”
At this moment, fuck my life seems an appropriate sentiment.
No need to turn around. I recognize that husky-edged tone anywhere—the voice of the tiny bookstore owner I’ve spent the last month with.
What are the chances? Hell, I’d throttle Braden for ratting me out, but he had no idea where Casey and I were headed tonight.
This is one of those freak coincidences, also known as the universe fucking with me.
That Casey was discussing extracurricular activities when Ori walked up? Icing on the cake.
Sucking in a breath, I turn to face my executioner. But instead of rampant anger, Ori’s face is a sea of calm.
That fact scares me way worse. It means one of two things: either Ori doesn’t give a crap that I’m out to dinner with a woman who wants to fuck me, or she’s going to slit my throat while I sleep.
Trouble is, I don’t know which option is worse.
Best to aim for levity and hope Casey plays along. After all, nothing has happened besides some sexual innuendo—and that was all from Casey’s end.
It’s not like I agreed to shack up with her.
It’s totally innocent … right?
I shoot Ori a smile, waiting for her face to register an emotion. Any emotion.
No such luck.
“Ori, you’re a surprise. What are you doing here?”
She holds up a bag of food containers and nods toward Mina, who stands beside her, glowering at me. “Mina raved about their crab cakes and insisted we have some for dinner. I called your shop to ask if you wanted something, but Braden mentioned you were out. Small world, isn’t it?”
Beyond fucking tiny.
The silence blasts out as the seconds roll by, each one feeling like an eternity.
Ori’s gaze meanders to Casey, who has—thankfully—returned all body parts to her side of the table. With a forced smile, she extends her hand in Casey’s direction. “I know we’ve met before, but I’m terrible with names.”
Time for me to jump in.
“Ori, this is Casey from Ink Spot magazine. She interviewed me several weeks ago. You remember.”
Ori forces another smile. “That’s right. I thought you looked familiar when I saw you earlier.”
Casey snaps her fingers, pointing at Ori. “You’re the chick with the pizza, right?”
“Casey, these are my friends Ori and Mina. Ori owns the bookstore next to Black Lotus . She looks after me, especially when I forget to eat.”
I mean it as a sweet sentiment, because Ori has taken care of me. Hell, she takes care of everyone at Black Lotus , like a mother hen.
A mother hen with the finest curves on the planet.
But my words miss the mark by a mile.
I shoot Ori an endearing smile, just in time to watch hers slip from her face.
Meanwhile, Mina looks like she wants to drop me in a pot of boiling water alongside the lobsters.
Now what the hell did I say?
I don’t need to wait long for the answer.
Ori straightens, averting her gaze to the floor. “Yep, that’s me. His friend from next door who force-feeds him pizza and coffee on occasion.”
Mayday, we have derailed.
Ori motions to Mina, who hasn’t stopped glaring holes into me. “We better go, or our food will get cold. Let’s leave our friend to his dinner. Have a good night.”
Then they walk away without a backward glance.
“Wow,” Casey says, swirling her wine. “That was dramatic.” She tilts her head, her smirk creeping back. “So, about those handcuffs …”
Her words barely register as I sit in stunned silence.
What the hell do I do now?
Do I run after Ori and explain my situation?
I don’t even know my situation—or if we actually have one.
I swear, women are so much more difficult to read than men. All men need is food and sex, and not necessarily in that order.
Women need … damned if I know, if recent events are anything to go on.
I toss down my napkin, intent on chasing Ori down, but Casey reaches over to stay my hand. “The food is here. Plus, she’s already gone. I have a clear view of the parking lot, and I saw her truck pull out.”
The server sets our plates down with a flourish, but I’ve lost my appetite.
Ori is hurt, and it’s all my fault.
I’m not sure how much she heard of Casey’s ramblings about sex toys and room service, but I saw the light flicker out in Ori’s eyes when I introduced her as my friend.
Add in this business dinner facade, and you’ve got my current clusterfuck.
“So, is that who you’ve been spending your nights with?” Casey inquires, popping a piece of food into her mouth. “No doubt she wants you all to herself, but that would be so unfair to the rest of us.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Bullshit,” Casey snorts. “It’s complicated because you got caught. Otherwise, it would be as simple as you, me, a bottle of wine, and hours of casual sex.”
I pivot in my seat, a flash of anger rushing through me at her presumptions. “Was that your plan? Does the deal currently on the table hinge on how many orgasms I dole out to you tonight, or is it based at all on my talent as an artist?”
Casey’s eyes widen as she takes a slow sip from her wine glass. “Don’t get mad at me for doing exactly what you’ve done all these years.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“You’re gorgeous. Oozing sex appeal. Beyond talented in the bedroom. You know it, and everyone who knows you knows it. It’s hardly a secret. In fact, you pride yourself on a constant rotation of beautiful women, but you’re not a dick about it. You’re always honest with your intentions and always deliver on your lady’s sexual fantasies. You are the quintessential definition of a great fucking time. I’m the female version of you.”
Damn it. She’s right. I’ve spent years winning at this game, so why does it suddenly feel like I’m losing everything?
“That still doesn’t answer my question about your supposed business deal.”
“The world tour is based on your talent, Ash, but let’s be honest. Your model good looks are good for business. Women love a bad boy, and you fit the bill.” She finishes her glass of wine and motions to the server. “As for the extracurricular activities, I thought we hit it off well last time. Really well, and I got the impression you’d like to see me with my clothes off as much as I’d like to see you.”
I rub my hand across my brow, a massive headache brewing in my temples. “Casey?—”
“If she’s just your friend, what does it matter what you do after hours?” She holds up her hand, cutting off my answer. “I saw your face when she walked over, but more importantly, I saw hers. That woman doesn’t consider you a friend. I feel bad for her.”
“Why?”
Casey shrugs, smiling as the server refills her glass. “She was stupid enough to fall in love with you.”
Her words hit against my emotional armor, and trust me, it’s already taken a beating tonight.
“Why is that stupid?”
And why do I care so much that Ori might be in love with me? Plenty of women have told me they were falling for me. Each got gently but firmly reminded of my position on the topic. Then, to save future awkwardness, I began pulling away.
It was the best thing for them.
And the easiest thing for me.
But Ori isn’t like these other women, and I can’t imagine my world without her in it.
“Because you don’t return her affections,” Casey reminds me. “Come on, let’s finish dinner, and then you can hash it out with Ori—although I’m pretty sure the damage is done.”
Sadly, I’m pretty sure she’s correct. But I can’t give up so easily.
“I’ll be right back.” I push away from the table, phone in hand, and stroll to the entrance.
A blast of Arctic air greets me, though it’s likely far warmer than Ori is right now.
Sure enough, she doesn’t answer when I call, and after a few minutes, my text is still unanswered.
Read, but unanswered. The words stare back at me, a silent confirmation that I’ve screwed up royally. What the hell am I supposed to do now?
“Fuck it,” I mutter as I walk back inside, sliding into my seat and motioning to the server. “A glass of whiskey, please.”
Then I turn to Casey, my arms crossed on the table. “Give me the details of this world tour.”
“Here or at my hotel suite?”
The woman doesn’t know when to stop.
“Here,” I bark. “I’m busy tonight.”
A hint of a smile plays on Casey’s mouth. “I’ll be damned.”
“What now?”
“You love her, too.”
“No, I don’t. She’s a great woman, but?—”
“Keep denying it, but your face says it all. Just like hers did. If she’s such a great woman, don’t leave her dangling out there for some schlep to scoop up. Better claim her for yourself before someone else does.”
But I know the truth. Love isn’t real. It’s a story people tell themselves to feel less alone. But Ori? She’s real. And damn it, she’s mine.
I just hope I’m not too late to fix this mess.