Chapter 28
Begging off of Sunday night family dinner is something I’d usually be crucified for, but it’s safe to say that everyone was more than happy to have me skip it tonight.
When I went to Warren to ask for his permission to date August, he slapped me on the back and told me he’d kill me if I hurt her. I didn’t need his blessing, but it felt like the right thing to do, and now I have no remaining qualms about taking her out.
My family is just as much hers as they are mine, a fact I used to be jealous of but now feel like an idiot for taking for granted. The fact that my family loves her so much only adds to our strong connection, and why I want to be with her. It’s rare for someone to get along so well with your family, and I am lucky that August cherishes mine.
The whole crew, knowing that I’m taking August on a date, only led to warnings, wolf whistles, and ideas thrown at me that I don’t need because I already knew where to take her.
To take her mind off the craziness of the week and the big decisions she still has to make, I decided to bring her to a place with delicious food and incredible views. After all, what’s the best way to convince her to stay after all the debt is gone? Well, knock her off her feet so she can’t leave, that’s how.
The Oleander is a hotel on the river set back off the winding road through a thick forest of trees. You can barely make out the large five-story brick building when you’re driving here, but once you get onto the property of the restored historic mansion, it’s like you’re transported back in time. From its traditional English gardens to the antique bikes you can rent to ride down their private part of the canal, the experience of staying here is one of a kind, so I’m told.
I’ve only ever eaten here, but that’s an experience within itself. Their restaurant is known for its gastropub fare, and it’s uncomplicated but to die for. Local beers, an in-house piano player, and the best view on the Delaware … yeah, I knew it was where I wanted to take August.
When she walked down the stairs—the perk of being roommates is we could leave together—I nearly had the wind knocked out of me. Her burnt orange sundress and strappy sandals made my mouth water. Plus, the way all of those blond waves were floating around her shoulders made me want to tangle my hands up in them.
As we rode the elevator up to the roof of The Oleander, August was buzzing with excitement about having dinner at a place she only ever dreamed about. Me? I’d been buzzing with excitement about going on a date with a woman I never thought would give us a real shot.
Now, here we sit on the edge of the room, the nighttime view of the river below us.
The roof of The Oleander is encased in glass, along with the walls. We’re essentially in a see-through room, seated at the top of the beautiful red-brick hotel on the rushing river. In the dark, you can make out the ripples of the water but little else, with nothing but the moon to aid your eyes.
The best view is right across from me, though.
“This is the best Prosecco I’ve ever had.” She grins, taking a sip.
I join her, letting the bubbles chase away my nerves. “It is pretty good. It’ll pair nicely with the oysters.”
“Can’t believe you made us order them.” She makes a face like the delicacy is gross.
“I promise, by the time I dress it up for you, you’ll love it. Put a little hot sauce and a little horseradish, and voilà.” I kiss my fingers.
August raises one eyebrow. “I’m choosing to trust you, but if it’s slimy and disgusting, I’ll never forgive you.”
My hand goes to my heart. “You wound me. But having you trust me when it comes to food is definitely a turn on.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everything turns you on.”
“Only when it comes to you.” Ain’t that the truth.
A blush creeps onto her cheeks, and she clears her throat. “How is your dad doing? I haven’t been over there in the last few days.”
I smirk. “I take you on our first date and you want to talk about my dad?”
August studies me. “Well, I was using it as a segue to ask you how you’re doing about the whole thing, but you always make me show my cards way too soon. There is no subtlety with you, Evan Ashton.”
My heart warms that she wants to know how his recovery has been affecting me. Being from a large family, I often get lost in the mix. August is one of the first people who focuses solely on me.
“I kind of like it that way. Kind of how I like your honesty. But I’m doing okay. You know, it freaked me the fuck out. I’ve always thought of my dad as this impenetrable force, so to see him like that? It shook me. Even now, I’m afraid something else will happen to him. He seems okay, on the mend, but it … makes me question what I’m doing in my own life. We don’t have all the time in the world, and Dad told me in the hospital that I shouldn’t waste a second of it doing anything I don’t want to be doing. He said I should spend it with the people who matter most.”
I hope I’m getting my point across, that she’s the one I want to be with. That I want her to stay, to not waste a second of our time together ever again. But when it comes to subtlety, maybe this is the point I’m going to be a little cautious with.
August nods. “He’s right. It’s just that sometimes, when we’re young, that isn’t always so clear.”
“It’s becoming clearer to me.” I reach across the table for her hand. “Listen, August … I want?—”
The waitress interrupts us as she puts down our iced plate of oysters, and we both thank her. Our eyes collide over the dish, and we both know I was just about to throw a gauntlet down. But I’m skittish, not sure how she’ll receive me asking her to stay or for us to be together, so I don’t continue.
“All right, let me dress one of these up for you so you can get the whole experience.” I grin at her, skating over the conversation that was just on the brink of intensity.
“Do your worst, Ashton,” she taunts me.
With a practiced hand, I add the condiments to the oyster the exact way I usually like them, then hand it to her. “Swallow it whole, no utensils.”
I watch her cheeks go red again, and the dirtiness of my words has blood stirring in my cock. She does as I say, tipping her head back to expose the long column of her throat. The way her muscles move as she swallows it … it’s not decent for this restaurant. At least not to my brain, which is working through a bunch of fantasy images of her throat doing that for a completely different reason.
By the time she puts the shell down and smirks at me, I’m panting.
“Not as bad as I thought.”
I stare at her slack-jawed, and she winks, like she knows exactly the kind of performance she just put on for me.
“Do you invite someone in after the first date?” I ask slyly.
August taps her finger on her chin, playing into the bit. “Well, not usually. But I suppose if he happens to be my roommate, I guess I have no choice.”
“I guess not.” I smirk back and realize we’re top-tier at flirting with one another.
“I’m going to use the restroom. Excuse me for a minute?” she asks. “If the waitress comes, can you just surprise me with my entree? You know what I’ll like probably more than I will.”
“Of course.” It’s the highest compliment that she’s entrusting me with the choice.
Our waitress comes, and I put in a variety of things, hoping to impress August with my picks.
More than a few minutes after she slipped away to use the bathroom, I realize it’s been a while. I wonder if she’s sick or maybe saw someone she knew? Checking my watch, the smart device tells me it’s been nearly ten minutes since she got up from the table.
Swiveling my head, I don’t see her chatting by any of the tables or up at the hostess stand. It might be weird to leave a two-person table, but whenever I see someone do that at my restaurant, I think they might dine and dash, but I have no choice. I take my napkin off my lap and go in search of August.
First, I check the surrounding hallways, and she’s nowhere to be found. I could check downstairs, but I don’t know why she would have gotten on the elevator. When I near the bathrooms, I don’t hear a peep from inside the women’s room. It takes two minutes for someone to come out, and I ask this random stranger if she saw my date in the bathroom. The woman confirms that there was no one else inside.
Hmm, where the hell did she go? August wouldn’t just leave, right? Panic and doubt lance through me because I thought we were having a great time, but maybe she didn’t agree.
An exit door catches my eye, and I wonder if she came out onto the three-sixty-view balcony for a moment. Pushing it open, I hope not, because the visibility isn’t great, and it’s pitch-black out here.
It’s a cooler night for the summer, with the wind whipping up here. Not to mention, it’s dark on this part of the rooftop balcony, the cutout of stairs leading to the decks below. It’s a beautiful spot to watch the river or the sunrise, but there aren’t any tables or lights on this corner of the roof, and it almost feels ominous.
Peering around, I don’t see anyone and am about to go back inside when I hear it.
“I told you, you had a month. It’s up, and I’m here to collect.” A menacing voice growls in the dark.
In the flash of a car light off the nearby bridge, I spot her. She’s standing against the railing while that thin tall man, the one I saw threatening her in the driveway, stands menacingly over her.
How the fuck did he find her?My stomach drops, fury and possessiveness drugging my veins.
I need to rush out there, save her from him, help her, but I need to do something else first.
My head is on a swivel once more, looking for anyone who can help us. The flash of a white button-down catches my eye, and I run over to him.
“Call the cops.” My tone is low and serious as I pull aside a waiter bustling to the kitchen.
He takes one look at my face, and I think he knows I mean business. I pray to God he actually follows instructions.
Then I make for the exit door once more, slowly pushing it open out onto the balcony. Surprise is my only saving grace here because if I come out guns blazing, he’s sure to make a run for it. The police haven’t been able to bring him in yet, and this is our chance. If I can secure him here, he’ll go away for what he’s done to August. She’ll never have to fear him cornering her again.
“You stupid bitch, just give me the money! You’re as dumb as your mother was!” he screams at her, her horrified gasp getting lost on the wind.
I watch as her hand slips off the railing, sending her back crashing into it, and I have to fight the urge to growl. He can’t hear me approaching, or this whole thing will be for naught. As quietly as I can, I tiptoe toward him, readying my hands and bracing my body with the tension to tackle him.
“You can’t escape this. I won’t stop until the debt is?—”
He doesn’t get the last word out as I ram into him from behind, the creak of the metal deck groaning with the impact of him going down with me on top of him. My elbow smashes into the ground, but I barely register the pain with the adrenaline flowing through my system. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear August scream bloody murder. I hope she ran inside, and got away and didn’t stay here to intervene. I really fucking hope that guy called the cops.
“Fuck you,” the tall thin man snarls, twisting so that he almost turns me over, but I keep the upper hand.
For someone so willowy, he’s pretty strong, and it’s a feat keeping him on his back.
He’s struggling against me, the wind whipping at my face, and the only thing I fear is him getting away without paying for what he’s done to August. I’ve never been the fighter in the family; I’ve never used my fists for anything. My wit and charm usually got me out of slippery situations, but that doesn’t mean Liam never taught me how to throw a punch.
So I prep my hand, adjusting my knuckles, and targeting for the right spot. You hit him, he hits the floor; it’s what my brother always told me. If I do it correctly, I won’t need to throw more than one.
Winding up, I wait for a moment when he stops struggling for just a second and let my arm fly. My knuckles make contact with his jaw and cheek so hard that I think I might have broken my hand, but it doesn’t matter. The pain is a far-off feeling as I follow through, putting as much power into the violent strike as I can.
Before I know it, the guy’s head snaps back against the deck, and he slumps silently beneath me. I wait one second, two seconds, and then check him. He’s out. Breathing, but completely out.
Standing with a haggard breath, I pray he stays that way for a while. Wiping the sweat from my brow from the exertion I just used, I hear the distant wail of police sirens.
A sob catches my attention, and I whirl to see the bravest woman I know, hugging both arms tightly around herself.
“Come here.” I grab August, hauling her to me, the knowledge of her safety the only thing grounding me.
“I was coming out of the bathroom and he grabbed me,” she blurts out, her voice frantic. “He dragged me out here. I tried to fight him. Oh, Evan, thank God. I thought he was going to …”
She breaks off on a sob, and I pull her closer to me. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you. I’ll always protect you.”
“Don’t let me go.” Her hands grip at my back.
“Never,” I promise.
An hour later, after the thin man is put in the back of a cop car in handcuffs and they’ve interviewed both of us, I still haven’t let go of August. We cling to each other, a new bond weaving between us.
She is my comfort, and I am her safe space. And although I didn’t want it to come to this, I’m glad she’s finally letting me help her.
As I walk her to my car and tell her I’m taking her home, we both know I mean our shared home. The one I’m hoping we can remain in, because after tonight, I never want to let her go again.