“No, we’re not doing anything. I'm getting in my car and going home to walk my dog,” I say, pointing at myself. By myself. You can do whatever it is that you do.”
Why the hell am I sitting in his car? Oh yeah, I remember; he picked me up and carried me—kicking and screaming—over his shoulder to his jeep. Then, he dropped me in the driver’s side and forced me over to the passenger’s seat while holding my hand so I couldn't escape.
“You’re a jerk, you. Know that, right?” I say with my arms crossed over my chest.
“You already said that, babe.” I swear, I can see a smile on his face. “But if you would have just agreed to get in my jeep, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”
“Why do you even want to come?” I ask in a huff.
“I'm not ready to have you out of my sight.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm interested.”
“I'm sure.” I roll my eyes. “So if you’re interested, then why not ask me out like a normal guy instead of basically kidnapping me?”
“Why? If I asked you out, you would have blown me off and avoided me. This way, you don't have a choice. I have your keys and your phone.”
“You have my phone?” I screech, opening my bag to see if he’s telling the truth. “How did you get my phone? Oh my God, you’re insane. I’m driving down a dark road with an insane person who's kidnapped me.”
I hear him laughing and I look over to make sure I'm not imagining things. He has a really great laugh. Ugh...Why can’t he have a crappy laugh? I shake my head in disgust.
“Relax, I just want to spend more time with you. Your dad trusts me, so you’re safe. Tell me about your mom,” he says, completely ignoring my question about my phone and the fact that he kidnapped me.
Geez…
“We're not talking about my mom. And my dad might like you but he doesn’t trust you. He says you’re a player. And after the performance I saw tonight, I’m agreeing with him.”
“I'm no saint, but I have been honest with every woman who has hit my sheets. They know the score before anything goes down.” As much as it makes my stomach knot to think about him with all those women, I have no right to judge him.
“You’re right. I'm sorry,” I whisper. I hear him let out a breath and I swear I feel his whole body relax from across the cab of his jeep.
“So, tell me about your mom.”
“We’re not talking about my mom.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mom stresses me out. Talking about her gets me upset, even when she's thousands of miles away.”
“Well, my mom is awesome. She works for me and my brothers doing office work at our construction company. She bakes us cookies at least a couple times a week and makes sure we eat lunch.”
I start giggling, thinking about him and his brothers, who are all built like redwood trees, having their mom bake them cookies and reminding them to eat lunch.
“She sounds sweet,” I say, laughing, because it really is nice. I hope one day I can be that kind of mom to my kids. “What does your dad do?” I ask.
“Dad’s the sheriff. He’s been a cop forever. Mom never worked till we graduated high school.”
“You’re really lucky. My mom was never really around,” I say, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes. I can actually feel the sadness in my own words. He reaches over and squeezes my knee. I can’t deal with anyone feeling sorry for me, especially not him, so I change the subject.
“So your brothers work construction with you? And you work for my dad?” I ask, confused.
“We all work together. I started the business after I got out of the Marine Corps. Then, when each of them graduated from college, they bought into the company. I don’t work for your dad. My cousin owns a business that supplies security and bodyguards to businesses like your dad’s. Every once in a while, he’ll call me in and ask me to check on one of his men.”
“It’s great that you get to work with your family” I say, thinking its’ good that he doesn’t work at the strip club. I don’t know how I would feel about dating a guy in that line of work. Not that we’re dating, I remind myself. “Your family seems really nice. Well, your grandma and brothers, do anyway.”
“We're all close. It’s not always easy working together but at the end of the day, we know that we’re family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No. My mom had bigger dreams than having a family,” I say as we pull up in front of my house.
The house is completely dark. The only light around is coming from the headlights of Asher’s jeep. “What the hell?” I mumble, starting to feel nervous about going inside. Not because Asher is with me and we’re alone and I don’t know him no, this is more the feeling, you have when you wake from a bad dream and the fright stays stuck to you for a while after you wake up.