CHAPTER 13
Olivia
“ I t’s your best friend’s wedding. Her dream day and all that. So, what’s wrong?”
Asher is nothing but direct as I sit down on a thick padded leather stool across from him in Wade’s wedding barn.
He unloads bottles of Kentucky Owl behind the bar I know he helped build.
I look up at his question, surprised he’s starting a conversation with me.
Guess there’s a first for everything, even witnessing a more human side to Asher Reed.
After just fifteen minutes, I’ve finished checking on everything I was supposed to.
Place cards are set, menus are out, and all the flameless candles are lit.
This is the first time we’ve really talked since we drove over here in comfortable silence with The Highwaymen playing through his old truck.
“All I’ve done is smile today. Why do you ask like you think something is wrong?”
“Smiling doesn’t mean all is well,” he observes.
“Always the listener. Even when you’re not on bartender duty, huh?
” I prop my chin up onto my palm. We’re the only ones here so he’s removed his suit coat, and the way his dress shirt clings to his muscular arms, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showcasing those veiny and rippled inked forearms just for me, feels like a reward.
“Eh,” he grunts out. “I’m sort of on duty.”
Cole and Ginger hired a server to run the bar, but Asher has offered to stock everything and relieve him when he needs a break.
Asher decided to get the jump on making sure the bar was ready while I lit all the candles in the mason jar centerpieces.
They’re surrounded by vases filled with roses and adorned with greenery that match our dresses.
Each one sits on a mirror to reflect the light.
They twinkle, just like the ones woven into greenery along the heavy beams in the ceiling, to create a romantic, whimsical feel.
“Well, to answer your question, I’d say aside from always feeling like the friend who will end up the crazy cat lady, I’m good. The day has been beautiful.”
“I wasn’t asking how you felt about the day,” Asher says, closing the cooler and turning to face me. His big hands spread out onto the bar and he tilts his body toward me. “I want to know how you are. How you’re doing being away from home, feeling displaced?”
I blow out a sigh and bring my hands down to my lap.
It makes me nervous when Asher asks these questions because, although I’m close with my friends, we don’t talk about me all that much these days.
I’d much rather hear what’s going on with them, so I shrug off their questions and change the subject.
Frankly, their lives are a lot more exciting, and I’m still confused about everything changing in my life.
I look up at him from my freshly painted red nails. “I’m all right.” I shrug, pushing my hair off my shoulder. “Like my dad says, it is what it is. I just have to get through it. Plus, Jo has been amazing.”
He nods. “Atta girl. Just focus on the progress. Shane and the guys are great.”
“Uhhh. Enough about my misfortunes. Tell me about you,” I say, tapping the bar top.
Asher remains where he is for a beat, studying my expression. Then he ducks down and grabs two glasses from under the bar.
“You don’t always have to be the one who listens. It’s okay to let someone listen to you,” I tell him as he uncorks a bottle of bourbon. Cole and Ginger are graciously keeping an open bar for everyone to ensure they have the best time.
“Aye. What do you want to know?” He narrows his eyes.
“I don’t really know anything about you, so surprise me.” I watch as he pours a shot into a glass for me, then for himself. “Unless there is some sort of law that says I’m not allowed to ask the bartender questions.”
“No law. I just rarely talk about me.”
He passes me my glass and, as I reach out to take it, the tips of my fingers brush his calloused knuckles, causing electricity to spark in my blood at the contact. I pick up my glass and take a sip; the whiskey doesn’t even burn it’s so smooth.
“So you’re just a hypocrite? Lecturing me, yet you clearly won’t talk about yourself either.” I prop my chin back up and grin at him. “I don’t want your deep dark secrets. It just feels unfair that you’ve sorta seen me at my worst lately …”
I take another sip as Asher looks down at his glass, swirling his whiskey.
“I can ask you questions because it’s my job. ” He pats the bar. “Your job doesn’t qualify you to hear about my past, Liv.”
Did Asher Reed just joke with me? I watch as he wraps his plush lips around the rim of his glass and takes a good-sized sip. When his thick, inked throat works into a swallow, I wish I was the whiskey.
I snap my eyes up. “I’m a lingerie store owner. You wouldn’t believe the things people tell me. Whatever you have to say, I guarantee some of the women who shop with me have told me worse.”
I pretend to button my lips. He smiles unexpectedly and fuck if it isn’t a beautiful sight.
“Let’s start simple. Tell me how you ended up in our fine little town,” I say.
His brows dip in thought.
“My mother, she painted and always loved the mountains. Said they were a place to find peace. When I came for the interview here and saw that the firehall was basically at the base of the mountain, I figured it was a sign. And Laurel Creek”—he looks around—“seemed like the furthest place from my old reality possible.”
“And that reality was?”
“A desolate one.” His eyes darken. “One of arrogant insolence.”
Asher looks at me in a way I’ve never seen before. Open, as if he’s deciding whether or not he can trust me. The echo of danger that emanates from him slinks up my spine.
“Every day that goes by, I feel farther away from it,” he adds carefully. “But the history is still there.”
“And you weren’t … happy? In your old life?” I swallow. He stands and knocks back the rest of his shot. “It wasn’t about happiness. With the … power I had, a man can grow a godlike complex. And that kind of man wasn’t the man I wanted to be.”
He sets his glass down, and that openness from earlier disappears. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”
“Because I’m easy to talk to,” I tell him, matter-of-fact. “That’s why everyone comes to me with their life problems. It’s not your fault. I’m a magnet for those in need of sound advice.”
He stares at me for a long moment. The barn around us is quiet and I swear I almost start to sweat under his gaze. “You can’t drain your cup to fill others’.”
“Deep,” I joke in an attempt to cut the thick air between us. His eyes remain on mine. “Truth is, I’m sort of a mess. I’ve always had a plan for everything, yet lately I feel stuck. Like I’m behind on starting my life—”
“Fuck that,” he says so passionately I flinch. “Everyone’s journey looks different. Besides, you have a habit of tripping into things. Your time will come.”
I can’t help it, I laugh, and damn it feels good. I raise my glass.
“I’ll drink to fuck that. Who needs a husband anyway? At this point I’d settle for some good sex,” I blurt out, then instantly regret it. “Hypothetically. I mean.”
I anxiously slide forward off my stool, hoping for breezy, but instead my heel jams in the rung and I almost fall.
My palms slap to the bar top as I brace myself.
I look up to see Asher’s plush lips curve into a half smile as he shakes his head.
Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything as I round the bar to help him finish stocking.
I watch with surprise as he adds one more swallow of whiskey to each of our glasses.
He picks his up and slides mine to me. The sound of glass clinking fills the air as he knocks them together, swallowing his whiskey before leaning in so close, I swear my heart stops.
“Don’t settle for good sex, Livi girl. Make sure it’s fucking incredible, yeah?”