18. A Jump Start and a False Start
Chapter 18
A Jump Start and a False Start
Ori
“A
re you getting your happy little ass down here soon?”
I bite back a smile at Roger’s aggravated tone, considering our dinner plans aren’t for another twenty minutes. “Do you miss me or something?”
“That’s beside the point. The hostess has been shooting me dirty looks for the last ten minutes. She likely thinks my dinner guest is a figment of my imagination.”
“Not a far reach. Isn’t James with you?”
“He couldn’t make it. Another bullshit late-night meeting. You know how those Wall Street types are.”
James accepted a high-level position a few months back, and although the money and prestige are nice, Roger is growing weary of his husband being MIA all the time.
That’s why he takes advantage of his now ample free time to visit me in Sparkwood. It gets his mind off his marriage woes and out of the city for a bit.
Plus, I get to spend time with my dear friend. It’s a win-win situation and trust me, I need a few of those .
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be there.”
“Starting … now.”
He clicks off the line and I toss my phone into my bag, grateful my buddy is in town again.
I need some fun and laughter, because the last week has been anything but enjoyable, and it’s all Asher Hammond’s fault.
“Fuck him,” I mutter, jabbing my key into the ignition. “Or rather, not.”
But when I turn the key, nothing happens.
After three more attempts, I realize it’s not my truck’s sadistic attempt at a joke.
“You have to be kidding me,” I mutter, resting my head against the steering wheel and trying without success to force my truck’s engine to turn over through sheer willpower.
Nope, not happening.
It’s dead as a doornail, and to make matters worse, it’s almost dark and Main Street stands practically deserted—with one exception.
Black Lotus is hopping tonight.
I guarantee at least one guy in there owns a set of jumper cables.
But that means I have to walk into Black Lotus and possibly see or speak to Asher Hammond, which is something I’ve avoided the last few days.
I’ll admit that it’s juvenile behavior, but my bruised ego doesn’t give a damn.
Look, I know I’m pretty and smart. I refuse to play coy and act like I have no clue men find me attractive.
But Ash’s friend Raven made me feel like a gangly teenager all over again—awkward limbs, no tits, and thick glasses—standing in stark contrast to her sculpted perfection.
Not that Mother Nature has much to do with her current silhouette. Oh no, she’s seen the inside of a plastic surgeon’s office more than once.
That petty thought would have been enough to maintain my equilibrium until she opened her mouth—again—and intimated I was a destination fuck for Ash.
Basically, he screwed me to reach his desired destination. And it worked—hook, line and sinker.
That is the trouble in playing with playboys. You believe you’re different only to learn you’re just like all the rest.
We all want to be the exception, but with Asher Hammond, that isn’t an option. You’re one of many—take it or leave it.
I mouth a silent prayer and turn the key one more time. Maybe the gods will smile on me.
Or … maybe not.
With a grunt, I push open the truck door and walk into Black Lotus. A few heavily inked patrons glance over from their perch on the couch when I enter before returning their attention to the television.
“Hey Ori, what’s up? Don’t tell me you have an appointment.” Braden walks over, wiping his hands on a paper towel.
I smile up at him. “No, but I do have a favor to ask.”
“Anything for you.”
He’s such a cutie. Why couldn’t I have a crush on him?
Ah, right, because that would make my life easier, and I have sworn an unspoken oath to never allow that to happen .
“My truck is dead, and I need a jump. I figured one of you might have jumper cables.”
Braden glances out the window and nods. “No problem. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time.”
There’s no sign of Ash as I cast a quick glance about the place. Better that way since I get all flustered, flushed, and stupid when I’m around that man.
Just like every other woman in town.
The man probably has a stack of deeds and presents a mile high, and all it costs him is a sexy smirk and a few hours of playtime.
How difficult his life must be.
I return to my truck and grab my phone. Time to catch up on some doomsday scrolling— anything to get my mind off the tatted man who turned my world upside down. A dose of online petty grievances feels like the perfect distraction.
A knock at my driver’s side window damn near sends me through the roof and I pitch my phone across the truck’s interior before my brain catches up, reminding me that Braden said he’d be out in a few minutes.
“Shit. Braden, you scared me the hell out of me.” Placing my hand on my chest, I release a heavy sigh and glance over. “You’re not Braden.”
Ash grins and shakes his head. “Thanks for noticing. I hear you’re having some car trouble, Little One. Pop the hood.”
I hate Ash’s nickname for me. Okay, to be fair, I love it, but I hate that I’m likely one of dozens of women with that assigned moniker.
I do as requested before jumping out of the truck, burrowing my face into my coat to ward off the evening chill. “Question.”
“Answer.”
“Isn’t that your bike over there?” I point toward the shiny chrome beast parked in front of Black Lotus.
Ash shoots the motorcycle an almost reverent glance. “That is not just a bike . That’s my custom Harley Road King, and she’s built to perfection. A ton of blood, sweat and tears went into that beauty.”
I bite back a smile at his protective overture toward the mass of steel. “So, is that a yes?”
“That’s a yes. Do you ride?” Ash chuckles as he rakes a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on me.
He needs to stop looking at me like that. It does things to me—all manner of things.
“I’m this big,” I reply, holding my hand next to my head. “I couldn’t even touch the ground on that thing.”
“So, that’s a no?” Ash volleys back.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle. Not once in my life. Cue the shock and awe.”
His dimples deepen as a smile stretches his face. “Unacceptable. We’ll have to fix that. I’ll take you on a real ride sometime, show you how much fun you can have.”
“Didn’t you already do that the other night?”
My cheeky aside earns a whoop of laughter from the man, and for a second, I forget I’m supposed to hate him.
He leans forward, dragging a finger along my jaw. “Once is never enough.”
Oh, but it is, unless you have more favors that you need fulfilled.
Just like that, I remember why I must keep my distance. It’s far too easy to fall prey to Ash’s charming flirtations .
Far too easy to fall for him, period, and we all know where that got me.
I throw up my hands, offering him a shrug. “I’m asking because I didn’t think you could jump a truck with a bike.”
“Harley.”
“Whatever.”
Ash pulls a set of keys from his pocket and walks to the pickup parked directly across the lot from mine. “That’s why I’m using Braden’s truck.”
“And also, why I asked Braden for help.”
Ash pauses, a strange look flickering in his eyes. A flash of uncertainty crosses his features, though he quickly covers it. “Braden told me your situation, and I offered to come in his stead. Unless you’d rather wait for him.”
“No. Thank you.” I could keep arguing over this mundane detail, but let’s be real—I’m only doing it to stretch out this moment in Ash’s company, even if it means nothing to him.
Me and my stupid schoolgirl crush, twenty years post-graduation.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, motioning to the thin t-shirt stretched across his chest.
He flashes another cocky grin, running a hand over his beard. “Not yet, but I’m sure I will be soon—unless, of course, you want to keep me warm.”
Oh no, mister, you will not bait me with sexy flirtations, even if I started it. “You have plenty of women to fill that role.”
Ash scoffs, shaking his head in frustration as his smile fades. “And yet, you’re the one I’m asking. What does that tell you?”
Who the hell knows at this point ?
I refuse to read into his words, because we both know that deep down, that’s all they are.
Do they make me feel good? Of course, because that’s exactly what they’re designed to do.
But they don’t mean anything more to Ash, and neither do I. A sad, but undeniable, truth.
Ash hops into Braden’s truck, pulling it forward so the fenders are almost touching. Then he pops the hood and pulls the cables from Braden’s backseat.
As he works, I notice the ink decorating his biceps, the lines vibrant beneath the glare of the streetlight.
The large design is an intricate mural celebrating the Roaring '20s—bold Art Deco patterns and sleek lines, with Gatsby’s watchful eyes in the center, both haunting and mesmerizing. It’s like staring into a world of glitz and illusion, a party that’s already ended but still lingers in the air.
How did I not notice it before? After all, I have seen every inch of the man.
Brain, you’ve got to stop thinking about that night.
Reaching out, I trace the line of the tattoo, feeling Ash’s muscles flex under my fingers. “This is a tribute to Gatsby.”
He cocks his head, shooting me an appreciative nod. “See? I knew you’d get it. Most people think it’s about Vegas for some reason.”
“The eyes give it away,” I murmur, aware that my fingers remain pressed against his skin, fingering the outline. “You really have always adored this time period.”
Ash glances down at my hand, but he makes no move to pull away. “For as long as I can remember. It might seem stupid to some.”
“Not me.”
Ash pivots and wraps his hands about my waist, pulling me close. “And because of you, it’s now happening. The dream is coming true.”
Don’t read into it, Ori. Don’t fall back into these feelings again, no matter how incredible he feels.
I shirk free of his embrace and offer a stilted laugh. “Nothing to do with me. I’m just the neighbor who gave you the go-ahead instead of grief.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable in the shadowy dark. “You’re so much more than that.”
My phone rings from inside my truck, pulling me out of the moment. I realize I'm now officially late for my dinner date. No doubt Roger is either making small talk with the hostess or teetering on the edge of a meltdown. “Shit. So much for being punctual. He’s going to kill me.”
“ He better not,” Ash grumbles, watching me carefully. “Where are you headed, anyway?”
“Out,” I reply with a casual shrug.
“Out,” he repeats slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “That’s all the info I get? Really?”
Wait a minute—did he just get snarky with me? Because if he did, he’s about to regret it. I’m the queen of snark, and he’ll wish he hadn’t walked this path.
Especially after the events of the past week.
I shoot him a pointed glare. “Does getting a jump depend on that information?”
He pulls himself to his full height, which is imposing, if not a bit ridiculous, next to my diminutive stature. Then he locks his stony gaze on me, and despite the low light, there’s no mistaking the storm in his verdant eyes. “Yes. If you’re headed to the grocery store, no problem. But a date? That’s a different story. ”
“You’re joking.”
“I am, but now I know where you’re running off to tonight.”
Ash’s response leaves me with two choices: tell him the truth about my dinner plans or let him stew, wondering about my hot date for the evening. But here’s what Ash doesn’t know—it’s not just Raven’s snide comments the other day that have me on edge. No, that would be too easy, too petty for a woman my age. It was seeing him ride past my apartment that same night with some leggy woman clinging to him on the back of his bike, her arms wrapped around him like a lifeline. I have zero idea if it was Raven or some other member of Ash’s roster, but for me, it was the last straw.
After that sighting, I’m fully embracing my pettiness. Let him sweat a little, though I’m sure he’s already lined up at least one date for tonight. He is Asher Hammond, after all.
Releasing a soft grunt, I plant my hands on my hips. “I’m already late. Will you help me, or do I need to call AAA?”
An odd expression washes across Ash’s face as he attaches the cables to the battery terminals. “Get in and start your truck.”
I do as he asks, a relieved smile crossing my face when the engine turns over.
Ash detaches the jumper cables and lowers the hoods on both trucks before strolling to my driver’s side window.
I lower the window, greeting him with a grateful grin. “Thank you.”
He taps the roof of my truck, his jaw tight with tension. “No problem. You should have jumper cables up here, just in case. I’ll grab you a pair the next time I’m out.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I rub my hands together, blowing into them in a desperate attempt to warm my frozen fingers.
“I don’t mind.”
See? This is what I hate about Asher Hammond—the sweet, thoughtful side that completely contradicts his ruthless playboy reputation.
Fine, I love this side of him, but it messes with my head, and trust me, the man’s already taken a blender to my emotions.
“Thanks for saving me, Mr. Hammond. You’ll have to let me make it up to you.”
Once again, the heat rises in my cheeks, fully aware of the double entendre of my words. Do I mean them? Who knows at this point?
Ash leans in through my open window, and his scent drifts over me—a heady blend of leather, cedar, and pure confidence that is unmistakably him and dangerously irresistible to my hormones.
I swear, the man gets within ten feet of me, and I damn near come on the spot, just from his proximity. He’s obviously cast one hell of a spell on my body, and no matter how hard my heart tries to remind me that Ash is a terrible idea, my body isn’t listening.
Which means I need to leave—immediately.
A task made more difficult by Ash’s deliberate effort to prolong our conversation.
I peer over the top of my glasses, my mouth twisting into a half-smirk. “That depends. How would you prefer?”
I ask the question, though I already know the answer. How indeed. My money’s on a quick blowjob in the supply closet—when his harem isn’t looking, of course.
Sorry, Ash, but that’s not happening. Not after the other day. No matter how glorious your cock may be.
“Looks like you’re the one who needs warming up.” He grabs my still-cold hands, bringing them to his lips. His tongue teases along my fingertips in a soft, deliberate caress. “And as for making it up to me, I’ve got a ton of ideas when it comes to you.”
That line should work, but all it does is arouse my fiery indignation. Because I don’t just want another night with the man. I want all of them, and that isn’t a possibility.
With a roll of my eyes, I pull my hands back. “Always comes back round to sex, doesn’t it?”
He drops his hand to the windowsill with a hard sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
Let’s be real. It’s exactly what the man means. He just doesn’t enjoy being called out on it.
Time to steer this chat to neutral waters. “How about this? I’ll pay you back in free coffee and baked goods for Black Lotus. Everything on the house for the next week. Be sure to take full advantage of all the goodies.”
Ash’s eyes widen at my segue. “While a thoughtful gesture, that is not necessary. How about you stay safe out there and I’ll consider us even.”
I force a smile and nod. “Fair enough.”
What is wrong with me? I wanted to get off the sex talk track, but now I’m disappointed that he followed my lead.
See? This is why I need to avoid Asher Hammond, at least until this addiction to him ceases to be an issue.
My phone beeps with new texts, and I lean over to retrieve it from its hiding spot on the passenger side floorboard.
I stifle a laugh as I flip through the myriads of messages. Roger is certain the hostess is plotting against him and if he has to order one more martini, he’s not telling me all the gossip from the city.
After shooting him a quick-witted retort, I turn my focus back to Ash. “Sorry about that.”
“He’s impatient, huh?” Ash asks, clicking his tongue against his teeth.
“A bit, yes.”
“Let him wait.”
There’s a forcefulness in his declaration that catches me off-guard. “Excuse me?”
But Ash ignores my response, choosing to focus on the inky darkness surrounding us. “You went home the other day without saying anything. I expected you to come back, and you just left.”
Ah, yes. The holiday festival.
Heaving out a sigh, I realize there’s no avoiding this conversation, even though I’m nowhere near ready to have it. My ego’s still too raw to be rational.
I tap my finger against my mouth, debating the best way forward. “I figured you already had a full plate with all your friends. All your fans . You didn’t need me tagging along, too.”
He drums the windowsill, the aggravation apparent in his rigid stance. “Here’s the thing. I wouldn’t have asked you to go if I didn’t want you there.”
We can go round and round all night, circling the truth, but what’s the point? I know why Ash slept with me, even if he’d rather eat glass than admit it .
Better to end this now. Let him know I know and be done with it.
I just wish saying the words out loud wasn’t such a painful undertaking. After all, once I speak them, there’s no more pretending.
I grip the steering wheel, calling upon every ounce of strength to get me through this without crying.
Universe, that’s all I ask. Don’t let me break down in front of him.
“I appreciate your help tonight, Ash, even if you don’t approve of my destination. But listen, can we stop all of this?” I wave my hands around, desperate to corral my nervous energy.
His brow furrows. “Stop what?”
I close my eyes, releasing a long sigh as my hands come together in front of my lips, almost like a prayer. “You, acting like you like me. I’ve signed the lease, and I’ll sign whatever additional paperwork you need, but please, stop insulting my intelligence with this charade. Okay?”
Anger flares in his face as he steps back from my vehicle. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Here goes nothing.
“I overheard you and your friend talking the other day. Discussing how you were willing to do anything, and apparently anyone , to get your speakeasy opened. That’s why I left.”
Ash tugs a hand through his hair, a perplexed look crossing his chiseled features. “ Who are you talking about?”
Now he’s going to pretend he doesn’t remember? Cute.
“Raven, the Snow White-Jessica Rabbit mashup.”
A flash of realization crosses his face, and he groans, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you heard that. ”
Wrong response, Ash.
I swipe a hand over my brow. “Well, I did.”
“Raven is nosy as fuck, and I didn’t want to get into details with her. I prefer discretion, remember?”
No, you prefer to keep enough distance between your ladies so that this is never an issue.
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree. But when it comes to that topic, it would’ve been nice to know I wasn’t just a cog in your wheel or worse, some inside joke. The least you could’ve done was to have that conversation in private. Do you think I hadn’t already considered the possibility? I didn’t need to hear you say it out loud.”
“Ori, wait?—”
But I’m done waiting. I’ve said my piece and now, it’s time to return to life as it was before Asher Hammond.
I raise my hand to silence him as my phone pings with another text. “Don’t worry about it, Ash. Seriously, I’m a big girl. But you hurt my feelings, and I choose to avoid people and situations that make me feel less than—because I’m fucking fabulous. Even if you don’t agree. Now, I have to go.”
“On another date.” He spits out the words, the syllables hitting against the frost-ridden air.
Let him think what he wants. It doesn’t matter, anyway.
I glance toward the entrance of Black Lotus and spy a lithe blonde shivering on the sidewalk, staring in our direction. “You’d better go. Your scantily clad public is waiting.”
Ash tears his gaze from me, jerking his chin in greeting at the woman. “Fuck, I forgot she was coming tonight.”
I’ll bet you did.
That line seals the deal for me regarding Ash: game, set, match .
I laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “You know what? Instead of free coffee, I’ll buy you a date book, so you can keep everyone straight and avoid any future awkward situations.”
Ash throws up his hands. “Ori, it isn’t?—”
“Any of my business.” Once again, I cut him off. I’m done hearing his excuses. I knew he was like this, and I can’t act surprised now.
He’s simply living up to his reputation, and what a reputation it is.
“Ash, are you coming inside soon?” the blonde woman calls from across the lot, running her hands along her arms. “It’s freezing out here.”
Ash rolls his shoulders, and I see him biting back his temper. “Which is why you should wait inside. I’ll be right there.”
“Go,” I demand, shaking my head and shoving my phone into the safety of my purse.
But Ash moves closer to my truck, his fingers gripping my windowsill in a vise. “She’s a client who’s a nervous wreck about her first ink. She needs a lot of handholding.”
“Look at how she’s dressed, Ash. She’s looking for a whole lot more than that.”
“Why do you assume that?” he snaps.
I’m so over this game.
“Name one woman in this town who isn’t after you.”
Ash straightens and shoves his keys in his pocket, his face stormy. “That’s easy. You .”