Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Well, her thirtieth birthday had come and gone, and Ashlyn still hadn't been able to get a certain sexy cop out of her mind.
It had been almost three months since Donovan’s wedding, and she’d thought that all thoughts of Grant Bull would have long since faded.
Yet they hadn't.
If anything, they seemed to grow more vivid the more she replayed their night together.
Each brush of his fingertips against her skin seemed seared into her memory.
How big he’d felt inside her, how perfect, it wasn't something she could get past. Every time she tried to get herself off with her fingers or a toy, she couldn’t seem to manage it.
She’d get so close, but she just couldn’t fall over the ledge.
Seemed Grant had ruined her body for anyone—anything—that wasn't him.
Too bad nothing more could ever come of that one amazing night.
If she’d thought there was a chance, she would have left him with her number when they finally finished up round six of sex in the shower and reluctantly pulled their clothes back on.
Or she would have sucked it up, ignored the embarrassment, and asked Jessica for Grant’s number.
But Grant was a widower who was still in love with his late wife. Plus, he had two kids who were the center of his world. He wasn't looking for a relationship, and since one-night stands aside, she was, they just weren't compatible.
With a sigh, she headed out of Eat Dessert First, the restaurant that her mom owned and ran.
While she was the youngest of her mom’s four kids and didn't really remember a lot from before her mom met and fell in love with a billionaire, she still knew they were extremely lucky. They had everything they could ever want or need, nothing was off the table. She’d been lucky enough to be able to pursue her dreams and build her own exclusive custom jewelry line, but the one thing she wanted more than anything else was something money could never buy.
Love.
A relationship like her mom and stepdad had. The real thing. True love. A happy ever after.
That’s what she craved more than anything else.
Of course, there were plenty of guys who wanted to be with her because of her money, but she didn't want that. A loveless marriage would just wind up crushing her poor little romantic heart.
Glancing at the restaurant’s back door, she tried to picture how it must have looked last Christmas when Jessica put Donovan in handcuffs.
At the time, her now sister-in-law hadn't realized who Donovan was, and that he was trying to break in because mom had locked her keys inside, so she’d thought she was arresting a burglar.
Now the story was told with laughter, and honestly, Ashlyn just loved it.
It was so romantic, and while things hadn't been smooth sailing for the couple, they were now happy and in love.
She was pretty sure it wouldn't be all that long before Freddie became a big brother, and while she loved her brother very much, his new family, too, she was still struggling a little with the whole jealousy thing.
“Which is not nice,” she reprimanded herself as she headed for her car.
It wasn't like she wanted to feel this way, because she absolutely did not.
It made her feel like the worst sister in the world.
She was genuinely happy for her big brother, she didn't want him not to have built the amazing life he had for himself.
She just kept wondering when she was going to get that same chance at happiness.
Or if she ever was.
Lost in thought as she was, Ashlyn didn't realize anyone was behind her until she felt a body step up close.
Too close.
Quickly spinning around, she took a stumbling step backward when she saw a man standing there.
He wore black jeans and a black hoodie with the hood pulled down low, covering most of his face.
There were stains on his clothes, he smelled strongly of cigarette smoke, he had a scraggly beard, one of his shoes was missing, and she got a bad feeling.
“Oh, uh, did you need … money?” she asked, her voice trembling a little.
As well as running her own jewelry brand, she did a lot of work for charities, and she had no problem donating to homeless men and women, she did it often.
But this man was giving off a vibe that she didn't like one little bit.
“Yeah, money,” he snarled, lifting his head so she could catch a glimpse of more of his face. There was a coldness in his blue eyes that had her taking another stumbling step backward.
“I have money.” Scrambling into her purse, she found the emergency money she always carried in case she came across someone in need.
Handing over the crisp hundred-dollar bill, she took another step back.
“If you need more help, please come to the shelter on Hemlock Street and tell them Ashlyn sent you.”
As she tried to turn and hurry to her car, a hand darted out and grabbed hold of her elbow, yanking her backward and up against a hard chest. Her breathing accelerated, and everything she’d ever learned in self-defence classes flew from her mind, leaving her frozen in place.
“I think I have a better idea,” the man growled, his breath hot against the back of her neck.
“I think you're going to drive me to the bank, drain your account, and then give me all your jewelry. Might take your body, too.” The hand not gripping her suddenly produced a knife, and he trailed the tip of it up one of her jean-clad thighs, then tried to nudge it between her legs, making her yelp in terror.
The man just laughed, then moved the knife so it was against her neck.
Never in her life had Ashlyn felt as absolutely vulnerable as she did in this moment.
“Let’s go, princess, which one’s your chariot?” the man demanded, and not knowing what else to do, she pointed to her Porsche and prayed for a miracle as he began to march her toward it.