Shit.
“Looks like someone forgot to count,” Asher said, his dimple flashing as he grinned and leveled his own gun at me.
Which left only one option: running tackle.
“Oof!” Asher went down hard, his paintball gun flipping out of his grip as I pinned him against the mossy ground. The next second, though, he flipped me over, using his greater strength to trap me beneath him, his eyes flashing.
Our breathing was ragged and rough as we wrestled for dominance, the scent of crushed grass and pine needles and Asher’s sweet cologne filling my nostrils as I gripped his shoulders, firm and muscular and—
And Asher’s face was right over mine, our eyes locking as his hips ground against me, his lips only inches away—
He leaned down and I wriggled helplessly, pinned to the ground beneath him. “Is that extra ammo in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” I said, panting.
“It’s both,” he replied, his mouth close enough that I could taste the mint on his breath, and oh God Kate, don’t do this—
I wriggled out from his grip and rolled from his reach before I could make a terrible mistake. I cast around quickly for another topic of conversation.
“Shit, what time is it?” I checked my watch, and then realized I actually had a legitimate reason for needing to check my watch. “Damn! I really wanted to get in another game, but I have to run if I’m going to make it to dinner with my family.”
Asher shouldered his gun, making a valiant effort not to look disappointed. “I can come with.”
Well, I knew I was sexy, but I didn’t think he’d be that persistent. “Uh, why?”
“Because I’ve only just got you unwound from all that tension, and honestly, I’ve met your family. It won’t do my investment any good if I have to bail you out of jail.”
Fair point.
EIGHT
Dinner was at my childhood home in the suburbs, always a bittersweet place to be. There were many happy memories here: sleepovers with Lacey, making Christmas cookies, learning to ride a bicycle.
But there were other memories too: my mother telling me I might as well not enter the dance competition if I were just going to embarrass myself; my father forgetting that I had even signed up for art classes at the community center; me racing home to show them a participation trophy I’d gotten, only for it to gather dust on the shelf while they fawned over Brian’s achievements.
“Such wonderful news that you’ve been promoted, Brian! And the salary increase, too!”
Well, some things never changed.
“Not just the salary increase,” Dad said, patting my brother on the back. “Lots of responsibility now, too. Shows they trust you, value your input.”
I stabbed a piece of tomato with my fork like it had insulted my honor.
Mom noticed, and shooting Dad a look, put on her sickly sweetest tones. “And how’s your little shop doing, sweetie? Have you thought about advertising on Craigslist? I hear that’s really the in thing for small businesses these days.”
Asher jumped in before I could say something so cutting it could have moonlighted as a pair of scissors. “Actually, Mrs. Jameson, Kate’s business is far too expansive for something like Craigslist.”
My mother’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Oh yes,” Asher said smoothly, as if he were completely deaf to the amusement and disbelief in her voice. “Why, just the other day we were negotiating on an article with Blossom. Do you read Blossom, Mrs. Jameson? Your dress is certainly reminiscent of the gowns in their latest issue.”
My mother blushed. “Well, occasionally I give it a look…”
“Well, then you know that they’re the top in their field. They really know fashion, and the reporter that contacted us called Kate’s designs exceptional and brilliant. Your daughter is about to change the way the entire lingerie industry thinks about their products.”
Gratitude and wonder bloomed in my heart as I watched Asher skillfully wind my mother around his little finger.
Even my father and brother had fallen silent, pulled into the orbit of Asher’s charm as he talked on and on, praising me, the prodigal daughter. They were nodding with dazed smiles on their faces, as if struggling to take in the fact that not only was I not a complete fuck-up…I was actually kind of a meteoric success in the making.
And the funny thing was? Watching the way his eyes lit up as he talked about me, as he gestured with those beautiful hands, as his smile shone brighter than the candles on the table?
I kind of believed it too.
It was the end of the night and we were leaving, with me actually feeling relaxed and happy—a testament to the existence of miracles if there ever was one. How on earth had Asher hypnotized my family into being supportive and interested in my life? If there was a class on that, I definitely needed to take it.