Chapter 19 Asher
ASHER
Boring job?
I fucking wish.
Frosts's sister is gorgeous, flirty, sunshiney, gorgeous, smells like fucking cinnamon, wears cute little mismatched socks, and did I mention she's fucking gorgeous?
And I thought I didn't have a type.
Turns out, flirty bus accident victims really seem to do it for me.
I'll be in close quarters with this off-limits bombshell for weeks.
I've never had a problem being strictly professional for bodyguard-type gigs in the past—but when I have to rip my attention away from Heidi's ass for the sixth fucking time as she flips chocolate chip pancakes at her stove, I decide I need a distraction or else I'll start imagining what it would be like to have my face buried in all that sweetness.
Aaand now it's too fucking late.
Where's that distraction, dumbass?
"What happened to your car?" I finally ask.
I noticed it parked in her driveway after I located her remote, charming place. Silas Crane gave me the coordinates yesterday, warning me that I wouldn't be able to see her house until I was right up on it, thanks to the camouflage charms he laid down.
Heidi stops humming along to the soft music playing from the smart speaker tucked away in her kitchen. She glances over her shoulder at me, and again, I wonder how the hell a dish like her came out of the clusterfuck that was the Frost family.
She's petite and pretty with big, sparkly brown eyes and toffee-colored hair that's doing its best to fall out of the bun she put it in. Her face is all soft, feminine symmetry, except for the mesmerizing pink birthmark that I get to appreciate again now that her face is turned to this side.
The evil leggings she's wearing show off her ass and those deliciously thick thighs and hips—and the tank top? I'm not even going to pretend it's not showing off her phenomenal tits.
Those are your client's tits. Keep your eyes and hands to yourself, I remind myself.
"Oh, that?" Heidi shrugs a shoulder, wincing minutely at the motion.
If the angry bruises covering her arms are any indication, the rest of her body is still beaten the hell up from everything she went through yesterday. I know some shifters' accelerated healing plateaus for a while after their body has had to mend severe injuries, but those marks are unacceptable.
"It was just bad timing on the highway. A semitruck kicked up a rock."
"Bullshit," I shake my head. "Rocks crack windshields—they don't bust up side windows until there's barely any glass left."
She goes back to pouring another pancake, blowing a messy strand of hair out of her face. "Huh, then I guess my side window just offed itself on the highway. I'll take it in to get it fixed soon…or, hmm. I guess I should wait until all the chaos dies down."
I see her trying to reach up for another cupboard. Scowling, I block the bruised shifter's path so she'll stop pushing herself.
"What are you getting in here?"
"Maple syrup, please," she yawns.
Fuck, the way she yawns is adorable. But it's just another reminder that she's still recovering.
I grab it and set it on the counter for her. "There. Now, no more reaching for shit."
"So chivalrous," she grins. "It'll be nice to have a tall, capable guy around, putting his body to good use for me."
I give her a stern look, doing my damned best not to notice the tiny tuft of flour she somehow got on her chin. Or the fucking insane urge I suddenly have to lick it off her.
Hands. And. Tongue. To. Yourself.
"That's the end of the flirting," I warn. "I'm officially your bodyguard now."
"Who said that was flirting? I was just saying your height is useful," she teases.
"If you won't tell me about the broken window, tell me about the Nether. Were you there during the Upheaval?" I ask, bothered by the idea of someone so sweet in that vile hellhole.
Heidi's smile drops away. For a moment, her gaze moves to somewhere above an empty space on the counter before she purses her lips and returns to flipping pancakes.
"It's not something I talk about."
I've never been one to pry into my clients' personal lives before, so I let it go for now. But when Heidi grimaces again while rotating the pancake pan, I've had enough.
"That's it—move, Shorty. I'll flip the damn pancakes," I grouch, reaching for the skillet handle she's still holding.
I'm not expecting Heidi to flinch just before my skin comes into contact with hers, but she does.
Hard.
She accidentally drops the skillet in the process. I step back as it clangs loudly onto the kitchen floor, but my attention remains locked on Frost's sister.
What was that about?
"Crap. Sorry," Heidi stammers, her cheeks flushing as she starts to bend to get the pan.
"Don't," I warn, stooping to clean up the mess myself.
Tossing the skillet into the sink and tossing the ruined pancake, I face her again, speculating. I've met people before who couldn't stomach physical contact—Frost's keeper, for one—but is that what's happening here? Or is it…
"Are you that uncomfortable with me?" I check.
"I'm really not, I promise. I'm just clumsy."
"You flinched like you thought I'd hurt you. But I won't," I inform her firmly. "Not ever."
"I never thought you would," Heidi says quickly, turning off the stovetop before fidgeting with the hem of her baggy shirt. "The opposite, actually. You really shouldn't touch me."
That sends a surprising amount of disappointment through me.
Which is fucking stupid.
Of course, I shouldn't fucking touch her, and there's no earthly reason I should be disappointed by her not wanting me to.
I'm a stranger here to protect her, that's it.
I shouldn't even be getting this chummy with her, standing around in her homey, happy kitchen—I should be out scouting the area surrounding her house or some shit.
Flirting and teasing are just part of her magnetic personality. Doesn't mean she's into me.
I'll make myself remember that.
"Right," I agree. "My bad. You've got my word that I won't step out of line again."
She makes a face. "Oh—no, I honestly don't care about professionalism. It's just…you know, blessed mytherun works for most empaths and I'm really grateful that you're wearing some, but my empathic abilities are kind of on a rampage right now, and if you touch me—"
"I'm not wearing mytherun," I clarify with a frown, realizing I'd forgotten all about her type four empath status until this exact second.
Oh, shit.
Does that mean this entire time I've been struggling to keep my eyes to myself, she's felt how ridiculously attracted I am to her? Is that why she's been teasing me?
Heidi looks me over. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Then…why can't I sense your feelings?"
She's confused, but I'm beyond relieved as it dawns on me that this must be another side effect of Arati's blessing. I've never really been around empaths to test it before, but that's really fucking useful to know.
I'm not about to explain my blessing or the origin of my magic, though, so I just shrug.
Heidi's pretty face lights up with curiosity. "Okay, call me fickle, but is it okay if I touch you for a second? I want to test something."
She can touch me wherever she wants for as many seconds as she wants.
Keep it professional.
I hold out a hand, watching the dime piece in front of me closely. She swallows hard and seems to mentally brace herself before her soft fingers skate over my rough palm.
Breath whooshes out of her, and she beams up at me like she's sunshine itself. "Thank gods! Nothing happened."
Maybe not for her.
Me? I'm burning alive.
I can't think of a single time in my life that a touch this innocent has affected me this intensely. My heart rate is going nuts, my hand is tingling, my stomach is full of fucking butterflies, and there's a situation quickly developing down south.
Is this what actual chemistry feels like? Damn, that's potent.
In some other universe, if Heidi wasn't my client and wasn't Frost's sister, I would be going out of my fucking head right now trying to catch her eye.
On second thought…
Fuck that.
So what if she's Frost's sister? As soon as I get through this job as a professional without screwing anything up, and as soon as she's not officially my client, I'm pulling out all of the stops to sweep this knockout off her feet.
I'll do whatever I can to get another hit of that adorable blush all over her skin.
I bet she'll blush even prettier while she's moaning my name.
Fuck.
But until then, this is my client. This is a job. So whatever it takes, I need to keep my hands to myself and keep it professional.
Gingerly pulling my hand away, I move to stand behind the island in her kitchen. Leaning against it, I pray like hell that I look completely unfazed, and she didn't notice the excited idiot growing in my pants.
"Yep, nothing. What'd you think would happen?" I ask.
Heidi sets the two plates of pancakes on the island along with butter and syrup, looking strangely giddy. Her smile is quickly getting the butterflies in my gut drunk on dopamine.
"Not nothing." Heidi doesn't offer any more details as she hands me a fork.
Instead of sitting, she leans forward to rest her elbows on the kitchen island. The position squeezes her perfect tits together, making it fucking impossible to rip my eyes away from all that lickable cleavage until just before she looks up from taking a bite of her breakfast.
I take one bite of steaming chocolate-chip pancake and immediately hang my head in defeat.
She's good in the kitchen, too? Godsdamn it, this is just getting cruel now.
"That terrible, huh?" she jokes brightly as she watches me scarf down the rest of my stack. "I can make eggs if you want protein. It'll be fun to cook for another person again. Oh, and most of my roommate's stuff is still in her bedroom, but if you want to move anything, there's a storage shed—"
"I'm not going to kick your roommate out," I scoff.
She pauses, her expression turning a bit odd. "Uh, actually, you wouldn't be. She's dead."
Dead?