9. A Tale of Breadfruit
Chapter 9
A Tale of Breadfruit
Ori
“C
are for another?”
Bartender, you have no idea.
All I manage is a slight nod, keeping my focus glued to the hockey game blasting from the television above the bar.
Too bad I don’t know a damn thing about hockey. All I see are two teams chasing a puck across the ice, and half the time, I couldn’t tell you where the puck is if my life depended on it.
Apparently, I understand hockey about as well as I understand Asher Hammond.
Not. At. All.
At least I’m not home sulking. No way was I letting that happen—not tonight—especially knowing Ash is probably out with one of his many lady friends.
I am such an idiot.
I’ve never been here before—deep in unrequited emotion—and let me tell you, it’s not a locale I plan to visit again.
Sure, my bruised ego wants to create a voodoo doll in Ash’s likeness and add a few more holes to his pierced cock. But my brain, ever the voice of reason, reminds me that the man’s behavior isn’t suspect.
It’s just who he is.
Not based on the whispers of the townsfolk, either. No, this came straight from the horse’s mouth.
Asher Hammond doesn’t believe in love or relationships.
Period. End of story.
He hasn’t mentioned his stance since our first night together, but Ash likely figured it didn’t bear repeating.
As a master’s-prepared, highly intelligent woman, I surely understand his words apply to me, too.
Now, if I can only convince my heart to detach from the northeast’s most notorious playboy, I’ll be all set—especially once the warm buzz of alcohol takes hold and soothes my wounded soul.
Mina offered to tag along with me to the local watering hole, but I declined, particularly since she spent most of the afternoon outlining all of Ash’s shortcomings.
I love the woman. I do. And I know she feels terrible about the situation, even though none of this is her doing. Don’t tell that to her temper, though—Ash better check his coffee for the next couple of weeks.
She wanted him to be for real, for us to be real.
And I suppose, as reality goes, we were—if only on one side of the equation. But on his side? The numbers never even added up.
A steady stream of locals drifts into the bar, no doubt many of them running from the same emotions I’m trying to avoid. I’m not sure who decided grouping us together into a sodden, soused mess was a good idea, but here we are.
Now all I need is for a bar brawl to break out, and my week will be complete.
I wonder where Ash is now.
With a quick shake of my head, I try to derail that train of thought. I don’t want to know, though my morbid curiosity can’t help but wonder how many other women coexisted alongside me during this last month.
When did the man fit them in? He must run on twenty-eight-hour days or something.
At least we were always careful. Protection was a must, even if my stupid, emotional side occasionally dreamed of throwing caution to the wind.
In my mind, we were making love. Hot, sweaty, sticky love, sure—but love, nonetheless.
For Ash, I was a good fuck. A reliable lay.
Maybe that’s why he never took me to his farm.
Hell, I always assumed it was because of our ridiculously packed schedules, made even tighter by the holiday rush.
Truth be told, I’m not one for bars and late-night parties, so it never occurred to me I was being kept on the down low.
So much for not thinking about it.
“This seat taken?”
I bite back a groan.
I am so not in the mood right now.
Sucking in a deep breath, I slip on my emotional armor before pivoting to meet Ash’s golden-green gaze.
“There’s only one seat available. Where will your lady friend sit? Oh wait, I guess she can straddle your lap. That’ll do.”
Friendly and accommodating, I am not.
But it’s more than my discovery last night that has my temper flaring. It was Ash’s tantrum earlier when I dared to eat lunch with another man.
A man I’ve hired to fix my house.
Unless Casey was working on Ash’s plumbing last night, this is not the same situation.
Of course, she likely did work on his plumbing. Ugh.
Ash ignores my heated barb as he slides into the chair and flags the bartender. “Whiskey, neat.”
Then he returns his gaze to me, and I catch the thinly veiled amusement dancing in his eyes.
That’s enough to send my temper careening into the red.
So glad the man finds this situation amusing.
“What’s so funny?” I demand, sipping my whiskey.
“You.” He clinks his glass against mine, a smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Me. The last twenty-four hours. We need to talk.”
“Not now, we don’t. I’m busy.”
Ash huffs out a sigh, biting back a chuckle. If he doesn’t stop laughing at my expense, I’ll bite something on him—and trust me, he won’t be laughing then.
“Busy doing what?” he asks, leaning closer. “Drinking at this shit hole?”
“It’s not a shit hole,” I lie, inching back from him.
“We both know that’s not true.”
I glance around the dimly lit interior at the patrons hunched over the bar, nursing their drinks. Most wear hats pulled low over their eyes, as if they too don’t want to be seen here.
I shrug and down another swallow of my drink. “Fine, it’s a crappy place, but it serves its purpose.”
“Which is what?” Ash presses.
“I’m having a drink and watching the hockey game.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s playing?” Ash grasps my chin, turning my gaze from the screen.
Damn him for knowing me too well.
I try to jerk my chin away, but he holds me fast. “A … red team and a blue team?”
Ash laughs and swoops in to steal a kiss. “The Dr. Seuss league is on the ice tonight, I see.”
With a defiant glare, I wrest free of his embrace and wag my finger under his nose. “No, you’re not doing that anymore.”
“Doing what? Kissing you? I sure as hell am, actually.” Ash drags his hand along my spine, counteracting any attempt I make to move away. “Let’s get out of here. I need some time with my girl.”
I scoff into my whiskey glass, trying not to fall prey to his ministrations. Again. “You mean your girl for the evening? Sorry, Ash, I’ve relinquished my spot on your rotation, although I’m sure you’ll fill it soon enough.”
The angrier I get, the more amused he becomes, and that alone is enough to send my temper skyrocketing.
“Are you done now?” Ash asks.
“No, I’ve got plenty more if you’re interested.”
“Always interested where you’re concerned.”
“While I appreciate this faux show of concern, I’m fine. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m surprised by last night. We both know I’m not your type. Casey is far more your speed.”
Ash’s gaze narrows, his amusement fading. “Who spouted that nonsense?”
“You did. That first night.”
Ash snorts out a laugh. “Since when do you listen to me?”
“Since yesterday.”
He inches closer, his presence overwhelming as his voice drops, rough and insistent. “No, you’re not my usual type. You’re sexier, smarter, and cooler than all those other women combined.”
“Sexier, huh?” What a load of bullshit.
“Way sexier.” His lips brush my neck, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
I place my hand against my neck, blocking Ash’s access. “Does Casey know this piece of information?”
Ash’s mouth quirks in a wry smile, but his eyes remain fixed on mine. “I forgot one more quality. You’re also way more of a pain in my ass.”
“I consider that a positive trait,” I retort, my voice sharp despite the warmth creeping up my cheeks. “Still didn’t answer my question.”
“Ori—” Ash exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. He doesn’t want to get into it. He’d rather gloss over everything and pray I forgive him.
Not happening.
I throw up my hand to cut him off. “You know what? Forget I asked. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Another noisy exhalation escapes him, and he shifts his weight. Seems the man about town doesn’t enjoy being scolded.
Too. Damn. Bad.
Normally, I’d hear him out, but the truth is, Ash doesn’t owe me an explanation. I built our relationship—if you can even call it that—on dreams of my own creation.
He told me how he operated that first night. No uncertain terms. No hedging.
He hasn’t changed.
I have.
Any further discussion is just salt in an already festering wound.
I don’t want to see the gleam of sympathy in his eyes, that look of pity when he realizes I’ve fallen into the same trap as countless other women.
Women who love Asher Hammond.
Women he doesn’t love back.
Promises he never made. Feelings he never had.
The list goes on, and now I’ve joined their ranks, despite every determination that I was different.
To see that look in his eyes and realize I was wrong?
No. Just no.
Some things are better left unsaid, and this is one of them.
Hell, for all I know, this past month was one giant ploy to ensure the speakeasy project moved ahead without a hitch.
You know that’s not true, Oriana.
But honestly, I’m not on speaking terms with my heart right now. Following its dumb lead is exactly what landed me here in the first place.
Heart, at this point, I hold your estimations in very low regard. If you were a sullen employee, I’d fire your ass for being so very far off the mark.
But none of it matters. Whether our time together was a ruse or a passing fancy, it’s all water under the bridge.
We’re friends—just like Ash said last night.
I only wish I’d gotten the memo before his newest flavor of the month.
Although, to be fair, Casey is certainly a better fit—definitely his type of woman. Me? I’m an outlier. One of those, dare I say, exotic fruits you try once and decide doesn’t pack quite the flavor you’d hoped for.
I’m breadfruit.
Yep. I’m going to need way more whiskey to shut my mind off tonight.
“You need to stop being mad,” Ash says, his voice low as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I need a lot of things.” I jerk away from his grasp, hating how right it feels when he touches me.
Even though everything else is so, so wrong.
Ash tugs gently at my sleeve, persistent. Seems the more I want him to stop touching me, the more determined he is to do the opposite. “Let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go home. I’m sick of my apartment.”
“Fine. Let’s go to my place. We barely spend any time at the farm.”
“As in any ?”
“Come on, we have privacy at your place. It’s also two minutes from our shops. It’s not like I have women stacked up in my bedroom waiting for my return.”
His piss-poor attempt at levity earns him a scowl, but Ash is undeterred by my stringent stance.
“Why would I leave with you, anyway?” I ask.
That sensual smirk—the one that undoes all the ladies in Sparkwood—stretches across his face. Too bad for him because it no longer works on me.
“Because I’m asking nicely, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“And I’m telling you no nicely. Besides, I don’t fuck my friends.”
“God damn it, Ori,” Ash mutters, scrubbing his face with his hands, frustration etched across his features.
“It’s cool, Ash. Just go.” Do I want to dally in this dark pub that reeks of stale beer? Not at all, but I refuse to cave to Ash’s whims simply because his dance card has an opening.
“I’m not leaving without you,” Ash states as he pushes himself to his feet. “So, stop arguing.”
“I’m capable of sitting in a bar by myself.”
Ash leans over me, pointing toward a darkened table. “See those guys? They’ve been drooling over you since I walked in, and they’re not subtle about it. Then there’s that guy who’s stripped you naked in his mind at least a dozen times in the last minute.”
Twenty-four hours ago, his actions would have been endearing. The big, powerful protector looking out for me.
But a lot can change in twenty-four hours.
“Good for me. I have fans.”
“Ori, you’re a tiny woman, alone in a bar, surrounded by men who would do anything to have you. What kind of man would I be if I knew that and didn’t keep you safe?”
What kind indeed.
I cross my arms and shoot him a glare. “One whom I didn’t hire to be my bodyguard, but thanks ever so much for caring.”
He levels his gaze at me as anger and frustration replace any remaining amusement.
Looks like we’re going to have to discuss our situation-ship.
Or non-situation-ship, as the case may be.
I sigh and slide off my glasses, pinching the bridge of my nose. Time to end this ruse, so I can deal with my heartbreak in private. “Ash, it’s fine. Really. I read into something that wasn’t there. That’s on me. We’re on the same page now. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my drink. Have a good night.”
Then I turn my body back toward the screens. My attention, however, is firmly on Asher Hammond.
Hard to miss the holes he’s burning into me.
Ash leans closer, his tone dropping. “Don’t make me carry you out of here.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
His green gaze pins me in place, serious and smoldering all at once. “Beautiful, where you’re concerned, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep those men away from you.”
My breath hitches, but I quickly recover, waving a hand at him. “Just go. I can handle my fan club.”
Ash straightens, tossing some cash onto the bar. “Screw this.”
Guess he finally took the hint.
I keep my gaze glued to the television, pretending his departure doesn’t twist my already tangled emotions into knots.
But then he spins my barstool around, his hands bracketing me in place. He frames my face and crashes his mouth against mine, pulling me into a heated kiss.
Before I can protest—or react—he pulls back and hoists me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell, pounding my fists against his back.
“Taking what I want, caveman style.” To drive the point home, he sinks his teeth into the meat of my ass.
A surprised yelp escapes me. “Did you just bite me?”
“Damn right, I did.”
“Put me down, Ash,” I demand, my voice sharp as I struggle against his iron grip.
“I warned you, little one.” His tone is more amused than angry as he pivots toward my so-called fan club. Tightening his hold around my thighs, he looks directly at the men staring at us. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? She’s also mine.”
The barroom door bangs open as he strides into the cold, a frigid blast stealing my breath. Then he sets me down by his Harley and steps back, a smug smirk on his face.
I yank my shirt back into place, crossing my arms as I glare at him. “This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.”
“What’s the matter now?” he asks, cocking his head, his smirk never faltering.
Spinning on my heel, I toss up my hands. “All of this! You can’t play both sides, Ash. It’s not fair, and life doesn’t work that way. You can’t have dinner with a woman who wants to fuck you—if she hasn’t already—and then throw a fit when a man shows me some attention. It’s a two-way street. You want your footloose and fancy-free life? You’d damn well better extend me the same courtesy.”
“Wait a minute, Ori.” Ash’s voice hardens, his jaw clenching. “I didn’t sleep with Casey. I’ve never slept with her.”
“Not for her lack of trying,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You want me to lie and say she didn’t offer me a nightcap at her hotel? She did. I declined.”
“Bully for you,” I bite out, my tone razor-sharp. “Must have been difficult to turn her down. But hey, you can take her up on her offer tonight. There’s still time.”
“Will you stop?” He clenches his fists, frustration radiating off him in waves.
“I grew up believing in fairytales. That one day I’d get my happily ever after. I never dreamed I’d fall for a man who won’t even consider the possibility. Or is it you won’t consider it with me? It doesn’t matter, anyway.” I turn toward the bar, my chest tightening with unshed tears. “I’m going back inside. Goodnight, Ash.”
Before I can move, his hand clamps around my arm, pulling me back to him. His gaze burns into mine. “I freaked out, Ori. We have this great thing between us, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I needed to pump the brakes because it felt like everything was moving so fast.”
“Too fast?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “At the rate you’re going, I’ll be collecting social security before you consider the idea of a relationship.”
His face falls, but I press on, the ache in my heart fueling my frustration. “Consider us stopped.”
“All I could think about at that dinner was you,” he says, his voice softening. “And the look on your face when you saw me with Casey. I never want to hurt you, Ori, and the idea that I did—it kills me.”
His words twist like a knife as I draw in a shaky breath. “I hated seeing you with her, but I needed to see it. I needed that truth to slap me out of my daydream and back into reality. And the reality is, you don’t believe in relationships. You don’t believe in monogamy. You don’t believe in us. Those are all things I need on my end, so here we are, at an impasse. I don’t see there’s much else to say.”
“I told you I didn’t want to like you,” he grumbles. “I’m not built for relationships.”
“Fine. Message received.” My throat tightens as I take a step back. “My mistake was thinking I was an exception to that rule. Can I please go back inside now?”
“Will you stop?” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I’m trying to say?—”
“Want me to say it for you?” I cut him off, my voice breaking despite my best effort to hold it together. “You’re sorry you don’t feel more for me, but you think I’m a really great person and you’ve enjoyed fucking me.”
“You’re way off.”
Then, to my horror, amid all my anger, the tears come. I bury my face in my hands, releasing a growl of frustration. “What do you want, Ash?”
“You.” His voice is low, steady. “I want you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the chest—so sincere, each syllable wrapped in raw emotion.
Ash crooks a finger under my chin, gently forcing me to meet his gaze. “Nothing happened. I swear it. You’re the only woman I want, Ori.”
Swiping at my tears, I shake my head, trying to regain control of my runaway emotions. “Look, I thought I could handle this casual thing between us, but I can’t. I?—”
Ash slides his hands along my jaw, capturing me in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, his voice is just above a whisper. “I want you. I don’t care what you call it—dating, a relationship, whatever you prefer. I just know I want to call you mine, and I promise I will never take you for granted again.”
Do I believe him? I desperately want to, especially since there’s a softness in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
“But what happens when the next hot chick comes onto you?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Are you going to tell them all no? That’s not your style, Ash. Those were your words.”
“You act like women are always hanging on me.”
I snort, shooting him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”
He exhales sharply, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. They can look, but they can’t touch.”
“How long until that gets old for you?”
His sexy smirk makes a comeback as he straddles his bike, motioning for me to climb on behind him. “That depends entirely on you.”
“How so?”
“As long as you’re by my side, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll ever get bored.” His gaze softens again, his voice quieting. “I’ll gladly spend all night talking, but can we do it somewhere warmer? It’s freezing out here, and the snow is about to start.”
“Figures you’d ride your bike in a snowstorm.”
“I thought it was going to miss us, and I’d get one last ride in before spring. Come on, we’ll leave your truck at the shop. No one will touch it.”
“Why don’t we drive the truck and leave the motorcycle?”
I think it’s a valid question, but the look of sheer horror crossing Ash’s face at my suggestion is laughable.
“I’m not leaving my bike unprotected in a snowstorm. Besides,” he says, reaching into his saddlebag and pulling out a helmet. “I’ve got something for you.”
“You brought this with you after our fight earlier today?”
Ash shrugs, offering me that maddeningly casual grin. “I knew I wasn’t leaving here without you.”
I roll my eyes and scoff. “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“No. Hopeful.” His voice drops as he averts his gaze. “I may not have a horse, Ori, but I’d like to try to finish that fairytale for you.”
Maybe it’s a line. Maybe they’re all lines. Or maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to walk away from the biggest love my heart has ever known.
I rest the helmet on his motorcycle seat and grasp the lapels of his coat, tugging him closer. “You, sir, are maddening.”
He cocks his head, his eyes alight with mischief. “In a good way, though, right?”
With a giggle, I brush my lips against his. “In a damn good way, yes.”
Although I instigate the kiss, Ash is quick to take control. He pulls me effortlessly onto his lap and guides my legs around his waist as his hands firmly grip my ass. His mouth crashes down on mine—urgent, possessive, reclaiming every inch of me as his.
His beard scratches against my cheeks as I thread my fingers into his hair, our shared desperation growing by the second. I bite back a whimper. But Ash has no intention of letting me go until he’s damn good and ready. His tongue slides against mine in a slow, seductive rhythm, every movement brimming with hunger.
It matches my own.
A few whoops and cheers erupt from the bar patrons, reminding us we’re not alone.
Ash buries his face in the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin of my throat. “Let’s go home.”
I nod, conceding defeat. “Follow me to the shop, and then we’ll take your motorcycle. Can’t wait for an icy ride in the snow.”
“We’ll beat the snow,” he says, a sly grin tugging at his lips as he sets me to rights. “Did you see it?”
I furrow my brow, unsure of what he’s referring to. “See what?”
“On the helmet.”
I bring it under the light and my breath catches when I notice it—my name etched neatly across the side.
Another wave of tears threatens to spill, but I tamp it down, opting for levity instead. Pivoting with my hand on my hip, I arch a brow and motion to the helmet. “How many women named Oriana do you know?”
“One,” he growls, his tone low and dangerous, “and she’s about to get her ass spanked for the entire bar to see.”
“Promises, promises,” I shoot back, unable to suppress the grin spreading across my face.