Not Friends
Jordy
Friend .
That’s what I called Ashton before heading to bed. I saw the way his brow furrowed, like he couldn’t stand the thought of being friends with someone like me.
He’d been nice to me, more than nice—I’m literally sleeping in his house. But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing all this because he’s a good guy, not because he likes me.
I’ve never cared this much about what someone thought of me.
I’ve held my head high through worse—when I found out Brayden was cheating on me with my cousin, when I moved to New York and clawed my way into a career that wasn’t easy to break into, when I walked into businesses and watched people take one look at me and dismiss me outright.
I do not bow to anyone’s misconceptions about me.
But my confidence also means people get the wrong idea. They think I’m bitchy. Too single-minded. Hard to work with. The kind of person who doesn’t need friends.
And yet, something about Ashton unnerves me.
The way he listens—really listens—like he actually cares about what I have to say. The way his hand lingers at the small of my back when we walk. The way he acted as a buffer with Bernie, like he was standing between me and whatever threat she posed.
It’s making it hard to keep my walls up.
But that look on his face when I mentioned being his friend?
That’s all the reminder I need. This is still a business transaction.
The Till has been under his family’s care.
That makes him invested in my success. Maybe.
Or maybe he doesn’t care about Timeless at all.
Maybe I’m just the offering to make up for his mistakes—his way of making peace with Sasha’s absence.
Whatever it is, we aren’t friends.
I’m still repeating this to myself the next morning as I grab my coffee—only to come face to face with Ashton’s entirely too perfect bare chest.
Holy hell.
Dark, defined muscles. Chiseled abs. Flannel pajama pants slung so low on his hips I almost forget how to breathe.
“Morning,” he says, and when I finally tear my gaze away from his torso, his eyes are amused.
I clear my throat and edge around him carefully, avoiding any sudden movements that might involve grabbing onto his shoulders like some sex-starved lunatic. How long has it been? Faced with Ashton’s half naked body, entirely too long.
“Morning,” I squeak, reaching for a coffee cup.
“Did you sleep well?”
Did I ever. He’d changed the sheets before insisting I take his bed while he slept on the couch. I’d fought him on it, but he was more stubborn than me, and I’d eventually given in.
Even with fresh sheets, his bed had still smelled like him.
That scent distracted me way too much, to the point where I had to slip a hand into my underwear and deal with my frustration before I could even fall asleep. When I woke up, I was rested—but also very aware of the fact that the first thing I did was inhale deeply, just to smell him again.
“I was comfortable,” I say, keeping my voice as even as possible. “Thanks for giving up your room. Did you sleep okay?”
“Like a rock.” He grins. “That couch is way comfier than it looks.”
I’m not sure what to do with myself in this moment. Do I take my coffee and retreat to my room? Or do I stay out here, sipping slowly while sneaking shameless glances?
Before I can overthink it, Lottie’s muffled cries sound from her room.
“Right on time,” Ashton says with a laugh, setting his coffee down and heading toward her door.
I watch him walk away—and oh my god, he has the nicest ass. Two perfectly sculpted mounds that make me want to squeeze, maybe take a bite out of, if I’m being honest with myself.
I’m still recovering from that revelation when my phone rings.
Alexander.
I sigh, staring at the screen before answering.
“How’s everything going?” he asks. “Is the store ready to be staged?”
“Not quite,” I say with a small laugh.
Ashton re-emerges, carrying a sleepy Lottie in his arms. She’s wrapped in a blanket, clutching a stuffed elephant, curled up against his bare chest like she belongs there.
And I melt. There’s something so impossibly sexy about seeing a strong, muscular man being completely soft with his kid.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I inhale sharply, forcing myself to focus.
“I ordered just about everything we need from the small shops around town,” I say.
Alexander sucks in a breath. “I don’t know about that,” he says. “We want Timeless to stand out, to be the place where tourists gravitate. This is a new brand, Jordy. We’re not trying to blend in with the local mom-and-pop vibe.”
I stiffen, then glance at Ashton who is scrolling his phone while Lottie snuggles against him. The scene is so peaceful, so easy—the exact opposite of the frustration brewing inside me.
I pick up my coffee and head to my room, shutting the door behind me.
“You told me you trusted my vision,” I say tightly. “That I should move fast and make decisions on my own. That’s what I remember from our conversation last week.”
“We had ideas last week,” he counters. “Luxury. Elegance. Not whatever you’re currently cooking up.”
“You don’t even know what I have planned.” My voice is rising. “And as far as I can tell, you haven’t even been to this town, so you have no idea what it’s actually like.”
Alexander sighs. “Sweetheart, I grew up in that town.”
I freeze. “What?”
“It was a long time ago,” he admits. “My family doesn’t live there anymore. But yeah, I lived there until eighth grade. And I’m telling you—if it hasn’t changed in twenty years, it should. We can be the force that brings Lahoma into the modern era.”
My chest tightens. I don’t want to be that force. I don’t want to rip this town apart just to turn it into another generic tourist trap.
“Maybe I’m not the right person for this,” I say finally.
“Honey, no. You are the right person.”
“Then why are you dismissing everything I’m telling you?”
Silence.
Then, a long sigh. “You’re right.” A pause. “But can you at least incorporate some twenty-first century design? Something that leans more toward luxury than barnyard?”
A slow smile spreads across my face.
“I can do that,” I promise. “But you’ll have to keep an open mind. I think you’re really going to love this.”