CHAPTER 8
Asher
WADE
Good for the final fitting for suits next week?
ME
Yep.
WADE
Bring your pretty face and your good hair.
ME
I’m always fuckin’ pretty.
I tuck my phone in my pocket with a grin.
Wade Ashby and his brother Cole, along with his brother-in-law Nash and Wade’s top hand Haden, were friends I didn’t expect to find when I arrived in Laurel Creek.
I knew when I left New York that I’d have to keep my circle small.
It’s been ingrained in me since I was a child to never trust anyone.
Though I soon realized that the Ashbys are a different breed.
I’ve been working for Rocco, the owner of the local bar, the Horse and Barrel, for a couple years, which is how I got to know them all.
Nash used to be a big-time hockey player but came back to his hometown a few years ago and took over most of Rocco’s duties.
He’s now my pseudo boss, though he isn’t in much anymore.
It was the perfect job to introduce me to the town because, at one point or another, everyone ends up at the Horse and Barrel.
But tonight the bar is my base for watching Olivia find new ways to put herself in harm’s way. Which she’s been doing. All fucking night.
Drinking way too much sangria with Ginger and Cassie, which, for the second time in a week, is highly unlike her.
Toward the end of the night, Ginger, Cassie, and Olivia are the only women still here.
They dance right through last call, and since Olivia has decided to wear the tightest, slinkiest lavender dress I’ve ever seen, she has the attention of every single man in the place.
The front is high-necked with long sleeves but the back is wide open and looks incredible against all those copper waves.
Oblivia. Unaware of the way every man in here is itching to take her home.
I try to keep busy but every time she almost eats it in her four-inch heels on the way to the ladies’ room or the dance floor, I fight the urge to cut her off, toss her into my truck, and take her back to the ranch.
“Barkeep, one more?” I hear less than an hour before close. I don’t need to look up to know the voice from the end of the bar is Olivia’s.
“You didn’t hear last call fifteen minutes ago?” I ask, moving closer. The last thing she needs is one more of anything, except maybe water and her bed.
“Ugh …” She leans forward onto her forearms at the bar top, swaying her hips from one side to the other as I turn to face her. It’s miraculous I don’t pop a tendon, I’m gritting my jaw so hard. Matt, my bar help, chuckles and shakes his head.
I lean down on my side of the bar. “Stand up.” “Excuse-eh moi?” She lifts her head, her slender fingers flying to her chest.
She’s fucking toasted.
“ Stand. The fuck. Up,” I repeat, as one of the cowboys behind her mimics the shape of her ass with his hands and bites his lower lip. My flexing fist balls up and then I’m moving without thought, to the other side of the bar, behind her, gripping her waist to block his view.
“ Now, ” I order.
She laughs, standing up and turning to face me, but she doesn’t shy away from my arms and suddenly I’m looking right down at her.
“You like to tell women what to do?” She breathes out, patting my jaw as her plush lips pop open.
I don’t even think she admits it to herself, but I see it clearly.
There’s a part of Olivia that feels the same pull I do when I look into those ocean eyes.
Her breath hitches as I tighten my grip on her waist and her gaze heats just like I knew it would.
Back up, I tell myself. But those fucking lips—“Y-you’re not gonna kiss me … are you?” Her voice is breathless, tempting me to do just that. Goddamn this woman is frustrating.
“ Fuck no,” I say clearly, nodding to her cowboys behind her. “I’m trying to stop those two shitheads from getting a real good look at your arse.”
She gulps and looks over my shoulder.
“No. Eyes here,” I command, cupping her chin and forcing her face to mine. “Good girl. Now either you stop leaning over the bar, or I’ll be forced to drive my fists through both their faces.”
Her mouth pops open in shock. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“Not right this moment, no …” I lie.
“Then why do you watch me? Why are you always doing things for me before I even ask?”
I grunt as I look away from her. I’m not ready to answer those questions right now. Hell, I don’t even know the answer.
“That’s right.” She pats my chest with her small hand.
“I know you’re the one who cleans my car off, who delivered me coffee after an all-nighter, plus you slid me that chocolate last Christmas.
I have no idea how you knew it was my favorite …
” She leans in closer. “I haven’t even told CeCe and Ginger these things.
But what I don’t understand is why you do it all. ”
Fuck it. She could use a little dose of reality.
“Behind this bar, I see everything. ” I speak just loud enough for her to hear over the buzz of the crowd.
“You give all of yourself to your friends. You put on a happy face, plaster a fake smile across these pretty lips, and you go along with everything they ask, even if it means you’re sacrificing your own needs.
But not one of them notices it.” I sound pissed off and I know it.
But she’s looking at me like what I’m saying has never even registered with her, so I continue.
“Not to mention, since you’re a walking incident report, for some goddamn reason I need to make sure you’re safe. ”
Her face falls slightly with my confession, knowing I’m right, but she fights her emotion and reaches between us, tapping me on the chest. And like a complete rookie, I look down, allowing her to chuck a finger under my chin as she giggles.
“Listen, I’ll save you the trouble,” she offers, trying to appear unaffected with our proximity. “You don’t have to help me find wood for my house. This scowling face will just put a bad aura in my space.”
Now she’s a rambling little brat.
“We can have this conversation when you’re sober,” I grit out.
Olivia waves a hand in front of herself and makes a pshhhhh sound before turning her eyes, now blazing blue, on me. “I’m capable of doing all things. In fact, I’m barely past the point of sober.”
Her words string together, proving her wrong, but the cocky way she looks at me has me wanting to fuck with her. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says, but it sounds thready as she lifts her chin and places her hands on the bar behind her for stability.
Splaying my hand across her lower back, I tug her closer, until her hot little body is pressed right against mine. Her breath hitches in her throat and my cock fucking loves the sound. I bring my lips down to the soft column of her throat just under her ear.
“Does this smart little mouth ever fucking stop running, Liv? Maybe you need something to fill it, hmm?”
I have no idea why I’m taunting her like this, but I can’t stop this need to be close to her, to test her.
“Well … I am kind of hungry,” she whispers back sweetly, not missing a beat. “Is the big, bad bartender planning on feeding me?”
“If I was, what would you have to say to that?”
“I’d say … that I’ve never been a picky eater.”
Fuck. I did not expect that, nor did I expect the hint of darkness lurking in her eyes.
My grip tightens reflexively before I force myself to let go of her and grit my teeth.
“You are definitely not fucking sober, woman.” I force myself to let go of her waist and watch her eyes turn from feisty to sad.
“You’re running from something tonight, drinking like this,” I tell her. “And maybe no one else sees it, but I do. It isn’t the answer. So go home, Liv.”
I force myself to turn away and move back behind the bar, pushing the flash of need that filled her eyes from my mind.
“Look … it’s been a rough few weeks, okay?” Olivia offers from behind me. “My cat died, and he was my best friend. I have no home and … I guess I’m just looking to forget everything for a few hours.” She gives an exasperated shrug. “But you don’t need to watch out for me, Asher. I’m a big girl.”
Olivia turns to face one of the cowboys who was eyeing her ass.
He’s not paying attention to her anymore, but when she walks right up to him and pulls him toward the dance floor by his shirt, he’s all hers.
Fuck me. She looks too damn good, and I have no idea why she’s affecting me so much now, or what’s changed between us, but it’s impossible to ignore the pull I’m feeling toward her. Olivia Sutton is fucking gorgeous.
I look back at Matt. He nods at me, letting me know he’s got the bar and then I’m on the dance floor as the cowboy’s hands drift dangerously close to Liv’s ass.
As I push through the crowd, I question why I can’t just look the other way, and the only thing I can come up with is that it’s ingrained in me to help people, especially when they’re walking headfirst into danger.
But I’m playing with fire here. I know she’s too innocent for me, too sweet.
I know the darkness of the life I’ve lived would dim her light, and yet here I am, bending to her like a weed to the sun.
I don’t even slow my stride as I pluck Olivia by her waist, dropping her beside me.
“Nope,” I bite out to the cowboy.
“Hey! Find your own woman!” he growls in response.
“His name is Ty …” Olivia says, trying to wrestle out of my grip and back toward him. Was this piece of shit actually planning on taking her home like this?
“Like fuck, ” I mutter as I lose my last thread of patience. Snagging a firm grip on her hand, I pull her to the door. She comes with me easily for a moment and then tugs to let go of my hand.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks as I double down, tightening my grip.
I pass Haden and his girlfriend, and then Ginger, who’s laughing as she watches me cart Olivia through the bar.
“Where you belong. To bed.”
She doesn’t stop fighting my grip, but I’m not having it as Ginger hands me Olivia’s purse on my way by. I’m not letting some prick take advantage of her like this.
“I’m taking her home,” I tell Haden. “She was about to leave with that shithead.”
“Liv! He’s been with every woman but us in this town!” Ginger calls to her friend.
“Sounds good, brother,” Haden adds. “I’ve got these two.” “Text me in the morning!” Ginger calls to Liv. “I’ll be sleeping in, Mabel’s at the ranch!”
“Cole’s gonna love coming home from his shift to this …” I hear Haden’s voice fade as I head outside.
“Let go,” Olivia bites out. “I can get home myself.”
“Now you care who’s taking you home?” I retort as I push through the door and into the cool night air.
“I told you I’m not your problem!” she argues.
“You’re right. You’re not,” I huff out as we reach my truck. “But I might be the only man in that place who will drive you home and not try to fuck you while you’re in this state, which means you’re stuck with me.”
I crack the door, lifting her and dropping her right onto my front seat. I breathe in her sweet perfume, holding her in place as I reach across and buckle her seatbelt for her.
Her chest heaves, but out of nowhere she starts to giggle drunkenly as she pushes her auburn hair off her face. She doesn’t stop laughing as she presses the pad of her first finger to the center of my chin. Her breath is still heavy from her over-the-shoulder rant and her eyes are wild.
“I was right,” she says with alcohol-induced confidence.
Leaning in closer, I watch as her pink lips part expectantly.
My gaze trails slowly over her face to her neck, where I see her pulse thrumming, blood rushing to paint her pretty cheeks pink.
I allow myself a single moment to imagine what it’d feel like to let my teeth skate over her there, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin.
“I knew you liked to tell women what to do,” she whispers.
I can’t help it, I smirk at her.
“You have no idea, Livi girl. Now fucking behave or I’ll be spanking that arse before I even get you home.”