CHAPTER 18
Asher
WALKER
This thing tonight at the Ashbys’. You only got one single one left in this group, right? She coming tonight?
ME
I dunno.
ME
But they’re all off-limits. Got it?
It’s a lie. I know she’s single, and I know she’s coming. But over my dead fuckin’ body is Walker hitting on Liv.
WALKER
Just curious, Jesus.
I glance to my left out the window and notice Walker’s truck is back in the parking lot after his last call.
ME
Are you texting me from down the hall?
WALKER
Yep.
ME
Why?
WALKER
I was gonna come in but you were wearing your don’t-fuck-with-me face.
ME
I was working out.
WALKER
Still scary AF.
WALKER
If it was anyone but you, I’d think you got in a fight with a woman last night.
ME
Putting my phone down now. If you want to talk to me, grow some nuts and come down here.
WALKER
I’ll wait till tonight when there are other people around.
Shaking my head, I set my phone down on the weight bench in the gym of the firehall, sweat dripping from my brow.
It’s been a fucking morning. We had a shit call where a man wrapped himself around a tree.
Already drinking and driving at ten-thirty in the goddamn morning.
It was all on the back end of yesterday’s double shift.
I love this job, but I don’t love being short-staffed, overworked, and exhausted most of the time.
Our new firehall on the outskirts of town was finished just last year.
It’s shinier than we needed in this county, but the board pushed it through.
They’ve also pushed us more money to bring in two new permanent hires, but getting staffed properly takes time.
We’re stretched thin. It’s not always the job people think it is, but it’s worth it and rewarding if you can save someone, their pets, or their home.
Even better if it’s all three. There’s a deep satisfaction I find in this career, one I’ve only just discovered since freeing myself from the evil clutches of my father’s world and forgiving myself for my mother’s death.
The death I couldn’t save her from. Protecting people who need it has been my main goal ever since, and I’ve come to the conclusion that this could be part of why I’m so drawn to Olivia.
I just can’t stand the idea of her being in need and not being there.
“You look wrecked,” Walker comments as he enters the gym, ready to start his own set.
“I’m fine.” I sip my water. “Here till three, then on call till midnight.”
“I’m off till morning.” Walker chuckles as he takes a seat on the rowing machine.
“The fuck are ya doing here then?”
“My house has two toddlers in it, so I wouldn’t get an ounce of sleep there. Easier to catch some z’s on the couch here.”
I nod, knowing he’s talking about his little nieces, and finish up to give him space.
I’ve been at this workout for almost two hours already.
Long, grueling workouts have been part of my day since my year in prison.
Every morning and every night. The same routine mostly, and fuck have I needed them just to relieve the built-up tension in my blood.
I’m wound up extra tight tonight because I know I’m gonna see Liv and I’m still fucking craving her.
The way I’m shamelessly keeping tabs on her is almost out of control.
I can’t even lie and say it’s to make sure she’s safe.
It’s because I want to know what she’s doing, to see her.
I know she’s going mostly between her shop, Nash and CeCe’s, Ginger’s, and Silver Pines because I happen to drive by all those places more than I should.
But I won’t apologize to myself for checking in on her.
Now that I’ve had her? The masochist in me just keeps watching.
Even if I know it can’t continue, which it can’t, Olivia should have the future she told me she’s dreamed about since she was nine.
And I’m almost certain that the man she envisioned isn’t one with a dangerous, chaotic past. A man who might not even be capable of what she deserves.
As if that truth needs to be driven home, I’ve got my uncle rearing his ugly head again for some godforsaken reason.
But even though I know all of that, Olivia’s eyes as I fucked deep into her needy cunt never leave me. The way she cried my name around her gag. The way she wanted her gag. I see those eyes everywhere, whether I’m awake or asleep.
She wanted all the dark things I imagined doing to her, and I didn’t expect that.
Olivia might think she wants a steady suburban man, one who works a nine-to-five, has perfectly combed hair, and wears slacks and loafers.
One who only fucks her on Saturday nights, holding back when he touches her, offering only half his attention.
But I know what she really wants, what she needs, is a man who sees her every need before she even has it.
One who appreciates the way she blushes when she trips over something, then cracks a joke about it.
One who fists her hair with strong, steady hands while he kisses the fuck out of her.
One who will offer her softness when she needs it and some pain with her pleasure.
The kind her eyes beg for even when her words don’t.
She needs a man like me. And that’s the one thing I just can’t give her.
“I still fucking got it.” Haden leans forward in his chair and points at Nash with his beer.
“Sure do, Cowboy,” Cassie agrees, squeezing his thigh then kissing his neck.
“Hey, your mama is right here.” Glenda, Ivy and Cassie’s mom, turns her head to her daughter.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t do the same thing with Geoff,” Cassie scoffs, mentioning Glenda’s boyfriend.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Glenda blushes as Cassie nudges her playfully. The relationship between them reminds me of the connection I had with my own mother. An odd pang of grief I haven’t felt in a long time hits my gut.
“I’m just sayin’, it’s been a while since you played football properly.” Nash grins before nodding toward me. “We’ll see if the boys want to get into it when they get here. I already told Asher.”
I’m just about to agree to a game when Ginger and Cole come through the sliding door onto the patio that runs the length of the back of the Ashby big house with Mabel; Ginger’s grandmother; and their dogs, Jake and Amy, in tow. Behind them is Walker and his younger brother Hunter Black.
“The great Hunter Black. Roper extraordinaire,” Dean pipes up. “You best be giving me your autograph before the day is over, son.”
Hunter salutes Dean. “You got it, sir.”
Walker’s younger brother is a sort of local celebrity, having just placed second on the southern tie-roping circuit.
He’s a playboy to a fucking T and very much enjoys the fruits of his rodeo celebrity.
But he’s a good guy and a hard worker in his craft.
He still works with their older brother Beau on their family’s ranch when he’s needed.
Hell, all the Black brothers end up back at that ranch even when they try to do something different.
Their mother, Maeve, says that the land is in their souls.
“Football later!” Nash calls over to them now. “We’re gonna kick Haden’s ass.”
“Hell yeah, I’m in.” Hunter nods as he runs a hand over the scruff of his jaw.
One of the dogs, Amy, yanks on Cole and he almost drops the six-pack of beer he’s carrying.
“Son of a bit—”
“Burgers,” Ginger says over Cole’s cuss with a smile.
“It counts anyway,” Mabel says, not even stopping to look up. Cole digs into his pocket.
“Give it to Ginger, Dad. She’ll eTransfer everything to me at the end of the week.” Mabel grins.
“When did that start happening?” Cole asks Ginger, shaking his head and setting down his sixer as the dogs chase Mabel and the Ashby dog Harley into the yard.
“Who carries cash?” Ginger shrugs. “Besides you, Grampa.” She pats his chest.
“She’s got a point.” Dean grins. “I carry cash too,” Ginger’s grandmother, they all call her Granny Dan, pipes up. I remember her first name is Marilyn.
“I see you two brought my Fourth of July date.” Dean smiles up at Marilyn as he pops his shades onto his face and leans back in his chair.
“They promised you’d make me one of your famous Tom Collins, Dean,” she says, wagging a wrinkled finger at Dean and taking a seat beside him.
“Already on it.” He grins. “Jo, can you bring me a fresh Tom Collins and one for my date?”
“In a minute,” Jo calls out of the kitchen window.
“Coming right up,” Dean tells Marilyn, folding his hands behind his head.
Marilyn laughs. “Isn’t it nice how they serve us now?”
“Sure as shit is.”
Dean is such a cool old man, the kind I would’ve loved to have as a father. Rather than the monster I was given.
“How many burgers is everyone gonna want?” Wade hollers, popping his head out the patio door.
He’s wearing a BBQ apron that says, If you’re reading this, bring me a cold beer and his T-shirt has red-white-and-blue rocket Popsicles on it.
I have no idea what he was thinking with that one until I see Ivy duck under his arm carrying Billi, their eleven-month-old daughter, who’s wearing the exact same T-shirt.
I hold up two fingers to signal how many burgers I’ll eat to Wade, and he nods.
“Nice shirt.” I smirk. “Why do I have the feeling you picked that out yourself?”
“He did.” Ivy grins. “I tell him that it’s usually the mama who wants to match with her daughter, but he never gives me a chance.”
Wade shrugs. “She’s my best friend. I don’t know what you want from me.”
I chuckle quietly to myself, though a weird pang of envy strikes me out of nowhere.
I’ve never wanted a child before—fuck, I’ve never even thought of having one, not with my messed-up bloodline. But something about the way Wade is so in love with that baby hits me square in the chest.