Chapter 18
Em
I answered the door, cheeks flushed and my breaths panting like I ran a marathon—and that’s exactly what I felt like—but somehow he didn’t look suspicious. He had no idea Mason and I were going at it on the other side.
Hands braced on the edge of the sink, I glare at my reflection in the mirror. I need to get Mason out of my head. This isn’t fair. I’m on a date with his brother for fuck’s sake, and all I can think about is him railing me against the wall.
I frown at the flattened condition of my hair. I don’t even know why I bothered with the volume. It’s all gone now after wearing a helmet.
But hey, at least he saw it blown out first. I hope it made an impression.
I give my head a shake and walk out to find Ash at the bar. He looks so hot in his dark blue, lightly distressed jeans and a black button-down with the sleeves folded up his tattooed forearms .
He went home after work to change and shower while Mason rode his bike straight to my house, buying himself a few minutes with me.
The whole outfit looks so effortless and yet sexy as hell on him.
How the fuck do guys do that?
And of course, his hair is on point, just the perfect amount of tousled, begging me to run my fingers through it.
Ugh! I want to sit on his lap while I do that. The way he straddles the barstool so casually, slightly slouched, and those strong thighs propped up on the step drives my fantasies wild. I can just feel his big hands cradling my ass.
Alright girl, reel it in. You got your head in the game now. I roll my eyes and approach on his right, sliding onto the empty seat beside him.
Elbow on the counter, bracing his chin on his left hand, he tips his head toward me.
He bites his bottom lip, but I can see the crooked grin dangling there as he takes in my outfit again.
I carry the hoodie in my hand to grant him another full view of the entire ensemble I put on just for our date.
I accessorized with bracelets, a necklace, and dramatic eyeshadow of course.
I left my lips bare for fear of smudging, and I’m glad that I did, although I can’t for the life of me recall why. I’m all in the moment now. With Ash.
“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks me.
My eyes flash to him, and then to the glass of water in front of Ash. “I’ll start off with a water, too. Thanks.” I give the guy a curt smile and refocus on Ash .
I notice that he shaved before meeting me. There’s no 5 o’clock shadow darkening his jawline.
“If you’re thinking about ordering a salad, I’m taking you back home.”
“No.” I give a soft laugh. “I was thinking a burger and fries, but I’ll take whatever you recommend.” I’m starving, and my surging libido tells me I’ll need the calories.
His eyes light up. “Burger and fries it is,” he says with a grin.
I try not to think of Laura’s remark about his big hands squeezing the buns.
We order our food, and I add a Strawberry Daiquiri while Ash sticks to water. I have to admit, I’m equally surprised and relieved that he doesn’t consume alcohol since both our lives—and the lives of others—depend on it.
“So how long have you been working at the auto shop?” I ask, lowering my drink.
I’m hoping to needle Ash with more questions. He might be more likely to open up than his brother.
He sets his burger down and sucks some juice off his thumb before reaching for his water. Turns out, he’s a one-handed guy when it comes to food. His right hand is braced on his thigh as his body faces mine.
He takes a sip and swallows. “Since we were 18.”
His reply stumps me briefly. That’s right out of high school with no previous hands-on training unless they grew up in a garage and learned from a parent or relative.
There was a workshop setup at the house, I remember .
“And your house, is that your family’s home? The one you grew up in?” It looks brand-new, though. Or at least very recently renovated in a modern style.
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “We didn’t have it that nice growing up. We took off once we turned 16.”
A fry pauses on its way to my lips as I choke on the last bite. On their own since they were 16?
“What happened to your parents?” I wonder apprehensively.
He shrugs. “We kept checking in with our mom off and on. She passed away three years ago.”
Ash doesn’t go on, leaving me hanging without the rest.
“And your father?” I cue.
His brow furrows as if with bitter memories. “Prison, probably.” He lifts one of his fries to his mouth. “Haven’t seen him in over a decade,” he adds, taking the bite.
So not a happy childhood , I conclude.
I change the topic after that to something a little more uplifting, and we share a few more laughs about my own pathetic life story. It’s not bad, just very plain.
I finish a second Daiquiri and feel the buzz on another trip to the ladies’ room. When I return, Ash has already taken care of our check.
My fingers clench around the wallet I have tucked into the front pocket of my hoodie. “You paid last time,” I remind him with a light scowl. “I wanted to cover this one.”
He slides off his seat and straightens in front of me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That was never going to happen,” he tells me, his chest so close it brushes mine .
A hint of warm vanilla tangles through the darker notes of amber and oak I recognize as his cologne.
My nipples harden as I stare up at him. I’m sure he can feel it. I don’t know whether it’s the effect from the alcohol or him, but my skin is suddenly heating all over. The hairs at my neck prickle.
“Why?” I force my tone steady so as not to reveal how desperately I want him to touch me right now. “Because you’re old-fashioned and don’t believe a woman should pay for dinner, or because she’s required to pay the guy back in other ways later?”
The deep, sensual green of his eyes pins me. “I wouldn’t let you pay, because I’m the one who asked you out. The only requirement of you was to show up. And you held up your end.” He frees a hand from his pocket, reaching up to touch my face. “I don’t expect anything else in return, Em.”
My gaze drops to his lips at the sound of my name, and my eyelids grow heavy.
Ash’s fingertips skim my jawline, searing a path directly to my core. The pulsing between my thighs increases with each beat while my breathing shallows.
“But tell you what,” he prompts, tipping my chin up, and drawing my attention back to his eyes. “Next time, you ask me out, and I’ll let you pay. How about that?”
“Next time?” I raise my brows at his bold presumption.
“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth turns upward. “Next time.”
I match his grin. “Deal. ”
I drop my eyes as I slide my free hand up the thick bulk of his bicep, feeling his shirt glide smoothly against his bare skin underneath.
My voice takes on a hopeful tune. “What else do you got planned for us tonight?” I ask, raising my heavy gaze back to him.
The tip of his tongue comes out to wet his lips, and his teeth do a slow rake across the bottom before his grin turns up another notch. “Put on your hoodie and find out.”
I don’t miss the sparkle in his eyes when he nudges me toward the exit, and I pray he has something more private in mind. I remember our unfinished business at the park. The view was spectacular there.
Ash pauses before stepping outside to let me get dressed, then slides his hand into mine.
My right palm fuses to his left. It’s not warmth that spreads through my body but scorching heat, setting me ablaze all at once.
“I thought I recognized the bike.”
Both our heads snap around at the remark. It’s spoken with a contemptuous edge, and the hairs on my arms and neck immediately bristle in alarm.
I turn toward the street where a guy is leaning against Ash’s motorcycle that he parked next to the curb. He’s about Ash’s height, with an indication of a light muscle bulk beneath his dark sweatshirt.
Around him mobs a small posse of four guys with similar builds and threatening facial expressions. Two of them have their hoods up like their leader, and all I can think is that they look like some street gang, and we’re about to get jumped .
Ash tugs me closer to his side when the guy by his bike dips his chin in a curt greeting, his hands buried in his front pockets like he might be concealing a weapon there. “Ash.”
“Vince.”
Oh shit! They know each other.
Something feathers over Vince’s expression, and his lips quirk in amusement. “That’s a nice piece you got there,” he says with a tilt of his head.
An icy chill creeps over me as his curious gaze takes me in. He’s not talking about Ash’s bike.
“Looks like a comfortable chassis,” he adds with sickening appreciation. “Made for a good ride, I assume. Those legs…” He makes a whistling sound instead of finishing his sentence.
“What do you want?” Ash barks, cutting him off.
“I was just wondering if you and your brother are going to show at the race in Sierra Valley next weekend?”
“Why? Did you already make plans on how to spend the prize money in case we don’t?” Keeping me close behind him, Ash strolls up to the guy, goading him. “Everyone knows that’s the only way you’d win. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride,” he taunts with a sneer.
Vince’s face retains its animosity. His eyes narrow and his mouth gives a cynical twitch. “You can’t always win, Ash,” he grinds out, then arches a brow.
“Maybe your girl here would enjoy the show.” He pushes off Ash’s bike and takes a leisurely step to the side, seemingly surrendering his post without starting a fight.
But I’m not fooled .
“You should bring her along,” he tacks on offhandedly. “She looks… fun . Are you two passing her back and forth?” He gestures vaguely between Ash and me. “She knows there’s two of you right?”
His left hand still linked to my right, Ash leans into him, leveling his chest with Vince’s. “Just prepare yourself for third,” he sneers, jabbing the guy with his forefinger. “As usual.”
Then he nudges me toward his bike, handing me my helmet and getting on first.