Dangerous Games: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by T. K. Leigh

  It’s silent for a beat. Then Asher’s throaty laugh rumbles from his chest, the sound more full of life than anything I’ve heard in a while. I hesitate, wanting to berate him for laughing at my expense, but the vibration of his laughter enthralls me, and I join in. If Jessie were to walk in, I wouldn’t be so cavalier about this, but he’s not here. It’s just us. Sharing a moment of embarrassment we’ll both laugh over for years to come.

  At least I hope we will.

  I bury my head in his chest. “I’m naked. On top of you.”

  His laughter only increases, his body shaking, the sound addictive and mesmerizing. God, I love his laugh. Not because it has this deep baritone that hits me deep in my core, but because I make him feel this way. I make him happy.

  “Not the first time,” he reminds me, his voice having a flirtatious quality. “But at least we were both naked then.”

  I playfully pinch him in the side, and he yelps. “Close your eyes. I need to get off you.”

  “You don’t have to.” He waggles his brows, lasciviously licking his lips, which earns yet another pinch. “Ouch!”

  “Close. Your. Eyes,” I insist through a clenched jaw, trying to reel in my smile, an impossible feat when I’m staring back at Asher’s sexy smirk.

  “You know, I have seen you naked, Iz. It’s not a big deal. I can probably draw your body from memory.” His voice turns seductive as his hand grazes my hip.

  His touch is light, barely there. Regardless, my veins flood with warmth. This time, it’s not out of embarrassment, but unyielding desire, my hunger for this man increasing with every second I remain with my body pinned to his.

  His lips edge close to my neck, the brush of them against me causing goosebumps to prickle my skin. “Every dip. Every curve. I know them all.”

  “Asher… Please.” I meet his eyes, begging him to stop. I need him to stop. If he doesn’t, we’ll pass that point of no return. Hell, we’ll crash through it with fanfare.

  He studies me for a moment, then sighs. “Okay.” He makes a show of closing his eyes, keeping his hands by his head. His lack of touch leaves an emptiness inside me. “My eyes are closed, so I can’t see that adorable birthmark on the bottom swell of your right breast.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes as I carefully push myself off him, mindful not to slip in the water yet again. Once I’ve re-secured the towel into place, I dash to the dresser, grab the first pair of jeans and sweater I can find, then lock myself in the bathroom.

  Heart hammering in my chest, I lean against the door, doing everything to calm my out-of-control libido, but it’s a losing battle. The feel of Asher’s body against mine, his hands on my flesh, and his husky voice have brought back all those feelings I’ve tried to forget. But as I’ve learned, there’s no forgetting Asher York. Something about him spoke to me before I even knew his name. And with each second we spend together, he embeds himself deeper and deeper into my soul to the point where I’m no longer certain of the path I’m on. The path I should be on.

  I dress quickly, then run a brush through my hair before throwing it into a messy bun. When I step back into the bedroom, Asher’s still here, but is now sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze focused on the imprint my body left in the mattress. He smooths his hand over it longingly.

  “You still sleep on the same side,” he remarks.

  “I always sleep on the same side.”

  “I switched, ya know.”

  My brows scrunched, I step toward him, stopping a foot away. “What do you mean?”

  “I used to sleep on the same side as you. But after…” He licks his lips, shaking his head. “Well, after Vegas, I started sleeping on the other side.” He runs his hand through his hair, making me want to reach out and feel his locks against my fingers. “It’s stupid, but I liked pretending you were still next to me.” He lifts his eyes to mine.

  I’d love nothing more than to wrap him in my arms, tell him I did the same thing. Tell him about the countless nights I dreamt he was beside me, holding me, making love to me, only to wake up and realize he wasn’t. But I can’t. Don’t want to give him hope.

  “So, what did you want when you knocked?”

  “Oh. Right.” He stands, clearing his throat. “Jessie took Grams to church.”

  “Grams went to church?” I scrunch up my nose. “I thought she’d always been vehemently anti-established religion.”

  “Apparently, after ninety years, she found Jesus…or so she claimed when she informed me this morning. They left early. She insisted on going to a church near my parents’ house in Melrose.”

  My eyes widen. “She made Jessie drive back to the city? That’s three hours away.”

  “You know how she can be. When she gets an idea in her head, there’s no talking her out of it. We figure one of her ‘gentleman callers’, as she refers to them, goes to the church.”

  “Are you suggesting Grams went all the way to Melrose for a Sunday morning booty call?”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t use Grams and booty call in the same sentence. There should be a law against that.”

  “Okay, okay. Got it. When will they be back?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure. There’s a snowstorm coming, so they may not make it back before then. Mom and Dad left early this morning, too. Dad’s flying out on a business trip tomorrow, so he needed to go. They were going to wake you to see if you wanted a ride, but I said I’d drive you back to Boston, if Jessie isn’t able to get back in time. That’s why I knocked. We need to leave soon to beat the snow. I’m sure you need to get home for work.”

  I chew on my lower lip, averting my eyes. “Actually, I lost my job.”

  “You lost your job?” he repeats, concern evident in his tone. “How? Why? I—”

  “It’s always a risk working for some of these big hospitals. The board of directors thought they deserved a raise, but in order to pay for that, they needed to take the money from somewhere else, like the nursing staff.” I shrug. “I was the nurse with the least seniority in my unit, so I got the ax.”

  “Izzy…” When he reaches out and runs a hand down my arm, I don’t back away. “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that job. How hard you worked to get there.”

  “It’s okay.” I force a smile, trying not to think about all the kids I don’t get to see anymore. “I’m a nurse. I’ll find another job. Plus, I’m not sure I want to work for an organization that would dispense with their staff to pad their pockets so they can buy another yacht.”

  “The healthcare industry in this country is messed up.”

  I blow out a laugh. “Don’t even get me started on that subject. So much for the edict to ‘Do no harm’. The healthcare industry does a lot of harm. At least those making the decisions, not those of us trying to get people the help they need and deserve.”

  “Are you okay? Financially, I mean. Do you need anything?”

  “I’m fine. The hospital offered a decent severance package.” Plus, your brother’s giving me a share of the royalties just for being here. Not to mention the twenty grand I’ll get if you make your studio date.

  “Will you stay?” His voice is soft, expression even.

  It’s reminiscent of the night he approached me at the bar in Vegas. He’d begged me to stay then, too. I knew I shouldn’t, knew I should walk away, but I didn’t have twenty grand on the line. I could walk away now if I wanted to, ask my parents for help. I should ask my parents for help, tell Asher to take me back to Boston before things get more complicated. But like that night over a year ago, I don’t care about that. I’m cast under his spell, desperate to be near him, no matter the cost.

  And like that night over a year ago, I offer him a smile. “Okay.”

  His eyes brighten, muscles relaxing as absolute joy covers his expression. He frames my face in his large hands, and I tilt my head back, peering into his chestnut depths. I see so much in them. His pain. His victories. His struggles. But most of all, I see his love.
There are many things I’ve questioned in my life. I’ve never doubted this man’s devotion to me.

  “Look.” He releases his hold, nodding at the window behind me.

  I spin around and peer outside, noticing a few flakes falling from the sky. “It’s snowing. It’s so much prettier here than in New York.” A warmth spreads through me at how peaceful and serene this place is. “Back home, all I thought about during a snowstorm was how I might have to sleep at the hospital so I wouldn’t miss my shift.”

  “No need to worry about that here.” He slings an arm around my shoulders as we both admire the landscape. “You have nowhere else to be, darlin’.”

  “I like the sound of that.” I nuzzle into his embrace.

  “Me, too.”

  He tightens his hold, inhaling a deep breath as he feathers a soft kiss on the top of my head. I close my eyes, reveling in this moment. Asher’s arms around me. Snow falling outside. A house to ourselves. It’s like we’re in our bubble again.

  “Come on,” he says after a beat, dropping his arm. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “Breakfast?” I arch a brow.

  “I make a killer huevos rancheros.”

  “Who am I to turn down an offer like that?” I take his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull me from the room. “Better watch out, though. A girl could get used to this.”

  “You shouldn’t have to get used to it. You should be treated this way all day, every day.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It’s really coming down out there,” I remark a few hours later, standing from the couch in the great room and sauntering past the grand piano in the center, where Asher currently sits. I stop in front of the window, marveling at the near white-out conditions. “I have a feeling Grams and Jessie won’t be making it back today. You must be glad you didn’t offer to accompany them.”

  “That definitely wasn’t going to happen. Jessie is more open to the idea of organized religion than I am.”

  I spin around, placing a hand on a hip. “You’d think for a good Irish lad, you’d have spent more time in church.”

  “It was never my parents’ thing.”

  He fools around with a melody I recognize as Queen’s “Love of My Life”. He doesn’t even have to look at the keys, able to play and hold a conversation at the same time. To Asher, the act of playing piano or guitar is as innate as breathing. It doesn’t require any concentration. It’s something his body knows how to do. At least for a song he knows as well as this one.

  “They weren’t big fans of organized religion, either. Told us they’d let us make our own decision, instead of trying to force us to believe whatever they did. How about you? Did you go to church as a kid?”

  I retreat from the window, plopping back down on the couch. “Occasionally. Mom’s not overly religious, but I think there’s a bit of guilt that still makes her go.” I grab a blanket and cover my legs, settling in to watch the snow fall for the next day…maybe longer, according to some weather reports.

  “Guilt?” He arches a brow before returning his attention to the piano as he plays a more difficult passage.

  I almost want to stop the conversation and ask him to sing this song while strumming his twelve-string guitar. I used to love watching his fingers work the strings as he sang one of my absolute favorite Queen songs. The difficulty. The expertise. The beauty. It’s what spoke to me the first time I saw him.

  When he looks back at me, I explain. “Mom grew up Catholic. And my abuela was really Catholic. Like, went to church every day. Sometimes twice. And it seemed she was always at confession. I remember thinking she must do some pretty awful things on a regular basis to go to confession as often as she did.” I laugh at the memory, my eyes shining. “I even asked my mother once if she was a witch.”

  “You thought your grandmother was a witch?”

  “In my six-year-old mind, that was the most reasonable explanation for her need to go to confession nearly every day. Mama told me she just liked to carry everyone else’s troubles on her shoulders. Called it a Mexican thing. And I think a little of that rubbed off on my mother, because once my abuela passed away, Mama started to go to church more. Said it was the one place she could talk to her.”

  “Some of that seems to have rubbed off on you, too.”

  I snort. “Me? The last time I stepped foot in a church was for my confirmation. And the only reason I did that was because my mother asked me to.”

  “I’m not talking about the whole Catholic guilt thing. More of wanting to carry everyone else’s troubles on your shoulders.”

  “I don’t—”

  He pulls his hands away from the piano and stands, taking several long strides toward me and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “You can’t claim you don’t, Iz. Hell, look at the profession you chose. You’ve made a living out of carrying the burdens of complete strangers on your shoulders, even if for a short period of time. Something tells me you treat every one of your patients as you would your own son or daughter.”

  I look away, chewing my lower lip. “No kid should have to battle cancer. They’ve barely begun to live. So if I can help ease their pain, make them forget about everything they’re missing out on because they’re sick — trick or treating, making handprint turkeys on Thanksgiving, receiving Valentine’s Day cards — then I’m happy.”

  “Like I said, you just want to lift their burden.” He leans toward me, his gaze tracing over my face, studying my eyes, the soft point of my nose, the curve of my cheeks, the heart shape of my full lips. He reaches for me, and I don’t pull away when he cups my cheek. “You have a beautiful soul. I felt it before I even knew your name. You—”

  A chiming cuts through, but Asher doesn’t move, staying in the moment with me. I glance at his phone on the coffee table.

  “It’s Grams,” I say softly. “You should answer.”

  He hesitates, seemingly not wanting to break this connection. Then my cell chirps. I peek at it, Jessie’s name on the screen.

  “I get the feeling they’re not coming back today.” Grabbing his phone, Asher stands, taking a few steps from me.

  I flash him a smile as he answers his cell, then bring mine to my ear.

  “Hey, Jessie.”

  “How are you feeling?” Sincerity laces his words. No complaints about the snow. No bitching about having to take Grams to church. Just concern for my well-being.

  “I’m fine,” I assure him. “Back to normal. How are you? I heard you took Grams to church.”

  “Don’t get me started on that.” He feigns irritation, but the love he has for his grandmother comes through clearly. “Hasn’t gone in years, yet decided now was a good time to find Jesus. Come to find out, it was because of the new choir leader. Apparently, she met him at the senior center a few weeks ago. According to her, he’s ‘quite the looker’.”

  “Can’t fault her for living her best life.”

  “And I don’t. So, as you can tell by all the snow, we won’t be coming back to the lake today.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “Hard to say. Forecast is predicting a Nor’easter with blizzard-like conditions for the next twelve hours. I’ll probably stay around here since I have to fly out to LA Wednesday anyway.”

  “You do?” This is news to me. When he’d invited me up here, I assumed he’d be here the entire time, too.

  “It’s a last minute thing, but I have to work out a deal for another client.”

  “You have other clients?” I whisper, stealing a glimpse at Asher, who seems to be partly paying attention to my conversation. I grab my mug and head into the kitchen to prepare a fresh cup of coffee as a front for leaving the room so I can talk to Jessie in private.

  “Of course. I work for a talent management company. I have other clients besides Asher who need my attention now that it looks like he’s on his way to getting this album done. So, how’s it going? Has he written anything else today?”

  “No. Not yet.” I c
an sense Jessie’s disappointment over the phone. I always could pick up on his mood changes. “But I’m sure he will,” I offer brightly.

  “Time’s ticking, Iz.”

  “I understand that.” More than you know.

  “Just… Don’t forget why you’re there. I’m thrilled you guys have rekindled your friendship, and I’m even more glad the stick that seemed to be shoved up his ass the other night has disappeared. But remember what’s at stake. You’re my last resort. My Hail Mary, if you will.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “That’s all I ask. Hey, listen. I’ve got another call coming through. I’ll talk to you later. Be good.”

  “I will,” I respond, but he’s already disconnected.

  I blow out a breath, resting my hands on the counter, closing my eyes. It was one thing to have a few hours alone with Asher. But now that we’re on our own for the foreseeable future, I smell trouble, bad decisions…and heartache.

  “Everything okay?”

  I whirl around, meeting Asher’s gaze as he stands just inside the kitchen, arms crossed. I grit out a smile. “Perfect.”

  His eyes skate over my features, brows pulled together as he studies me. The last thing I need is for him to realize something’s amiss, that I’m only here because Jessie’s paying me. But is that even true anymore? I could have asked Asher to drive me to Boston earlier, yet I didn’t. I want to be here, regardless of the money.

  “Just needed to freshen up my coffee.” I turn back around and pop a pod into the one-cup brewer.

  “What did Jessie say?”

  “Probably the same thing Grams told you.”

  “They’re staying by the city.”

  “Yup.”

  “When did he say he’d be back?”

  “He didn’t. Said he has a meeting in LA in the middle of the week, so I wouldn’t expect him anytime soon.” When my coffee finishes brewing, I prepare it the way I like, then face Asher. “How about Grams?”

  He playfully rolls his eyes. “Told me it would depend on her schedule back home. She called her plow guy.”