***
Sound asleep, in the midst of weird dreams about poison dart frogs, Sophie awoke to the sound of… what was that? The sound was coming from Asher’s room. She’d left the bathroom door open a crack, too tired to realize she hadn’t closed it all the way. Or, perhaps, on some level, left it open in case he decided to sneak into her room during the night.
Tossing off the covers, she tiptoed cautiously into the bathroom. He hadn’t closed his door either, whether it was subconsciously or intentionally, she’d never know. Sophie peeked into his bedroom and saw him thrashing in the bed, hollering someone’s name.
She knew he had PTSD and that waking him in the midst of a nightmare could be dangerous for them both. It was torture watching him so terrified. In the glow from the moonlight shining through the window, she could see a glisten of tears on his cheek as he opened his eyes and lay still on the bed.
From the bathroom doorway, not wanting to get too close until she knew he was fully awake, Sophie whispered his name. Nothing. She whispered again.
Sitting up with a jolt, Asher rubbed the sleep and moisture from his eyes and searched the room for the sound. When he saw her, his face softened. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
With a sympathetic smile, Sophie responded, “Yeah, but that’s okay. Who’s Jack?”
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he took a sip of water from the glass by the bed. “One of my team. Good buddy. We lost three guys that day. Jack never walked again. Zane and I found him, barely a scraped knee between us. It was my last fucking op before my discharge went through.”
Sophie walked softly across the bedroom and sat next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Pippa mentioned you were going to the VA for therapy?”
He nodded somberly, lips pursed tight. “Yep. It’s helping. I’m a lot better off than I was. I don’t get as many nightmares anymore. Only a few flashbacks in all.”
“That must have felt awful, to return unharmed while others weren’t so fortunate.” She tested the waters and slid her hand into his for the second time tonight. The connection made the world look a little less bleak.
His body relaxed against her, his focus shifting from the ceiling to their joined hands. “That pretty much sums it up. Checking out a fucking noise we should have just left alone; Zane and I were across the street when the building blew. I got a stupid scuff on my knee. I’ve got this tiny little scar still, a neat reminder, tattoo, of how I dodged a bomb and left others to die.”
He flicked the small white line on his knee before continuing. “Fucking thing is, why me? Why Zane? Of the six of us close enough to feel the blast, we were the only two without a damn thing to lose. The only ones who made it out okay. Other guys had families. Shit, Jack was about the happy-go-luckiest guy you could know. Now, he’s a morose lump in his wheelchair.”
“I’d love to say something about destiny or a greater purpose, but I have no idea about any of that. Everyone I’ve ever loved, before I met Pippa, died before I even finished growing. Life doesn’t make much sense sometimes.” Exhaling her sadness wearily, she hoped she wasn’t making things worse.
She’d questioned the same thing so many times. After years of searching, unable to find any deeper meaning in pain, she no longer let it stop her from thriving. Squeezing his hand, she leaned against his shoulder. “But we’re both here. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah. Not much more to it than that. Life fucking sucks sometimes. Other times, like right now, it’s pretty great. I’m glad you’re here, too.” He pulled her hand up and softly pressed his warm lips to her knuckles. “I’ve felt much less alone since you got here. Whatever that means.”
Sliding her legs up, she crawled into his bed and stole one of his pillows. Fluffing the pillow dramatically, she rested her head and pulled the blankets up, snuggling in at his side.
Watching, he chuckled, a confused smile crossing his face. “Forget where you are?”
“Nope.” She curled up on her side closed her eyes. Without argument, he laid back in the bed and enveloped her in his arms. Within seconds, Sophie felt his breathing slow, his body relax. She was out a few seconds later.
10
T-Minus 9 Days
Asher woke with a mass of hair spread across his face. One arm pinned, he found himself wrapped around the octopus that was wrapped around him. An unexpected smile crossed his face. He’d slept great.
Sophie was nuzzled close, her head on his shoulder. Daylight streamed in through the open window, casting a warm glow on her smooth skin. She was gorgeous when she slept, her features soft, lips slightly parted. He'd never actually sleeping-slept with a woman before and found it remarkably arousing to wake up with one in his arms. Well, this one anyway.
Wow, that would have been a good Never for last night’s game.
Although he hated to ruin the moment, he knew it was late morning already. He tried to gently wake her with a kiss. Eyebrows scrunching in adorable confusion, she wasn't quite awake yet.
He kissed her again, lingering a little longer this time. Her lips formed a satisfied smile before her eyes opened. Hand moving up to stroke his rough-bearded cheek, her lips, still warm from sleep, locked onto his. Immersed in the moment, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her fingers gripped in his hair.
Rolling her underneath him, Asher deepened the kiss, exploring her waiting mouth. Sliding his hand under her shirt, he grasped her breast, his calloused hand rough against her satin skin.
A sigh escaped her lips, her hands wandered down his sides and clutched his bare ass. Already hard, Asher instinctually moved against her. Glad she’d worn underwear to bed; the thin cotton was the only thing separating them before he did something stupid.
Fully awake now, she shifted her hands around front and ran her fingers along his iron-hard erection. Holy shit she wasn’t shy. After a delicate caress, about torturing him with the feather light touch, she gripped the base of his cock firmly. Fuck, he about lost it.
A gentle knock thundered at the door, shattering the incredible moment.
“Dammit,” he muttered as he leaped off of her. Sophie’s eyes widened in panic and she bolted out of bed.
“Asher, can I come in?” His sister’s soft voice carried through the door, jarring him like a damn IED exploding.
Frantically searching for pants, Asher pulled on his discarded jeans from last night. “Hang on.”
Still in her camisole and panties, Sophie ran for the bathroom, only to find the door locked. The door handle wasn’t budging. Shit. Apparently, she hadn’t figured out the lock after the naked lesson the other morning.
Diving under the bed, Sophie disappeared from sight. Asher had never seen her move so fast, and when she ran, the wind followed her lead. At the last second, he grabbed a sweatshirt so he had something to hide the erection that just wouldn’t fade. It had been way too long; poor guy wasn’t calming down.
Holding the sweatshirt crumpled in front of him as if he meant to wear it, but really to maintain his dignity, he made it to the door just in time. Pippa was opening the door a crack to check on him.
“Were you still asleep? It’s after seven. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in this late. Or Sophie, for that matter; we must have stayed out later than I thought.” She yawned, noting the daylight streaming in through his open window.
Asher turned it around on her. “Considering we had to drive a few drunks home at an ungodly late hour, give us sober few a break. How are you up so early?” She did look a little pasty this morning. Maybe a little green.
“We moronically scheduled the meeting with the minister the morning after the bachelor and bachelorette party.” Her voice crackled as she spoke. Miraculously, she didn’t try to push past his hand on the door.
Well, for a moment. “Wait, why are you blocking me? Is… You didn’t have sex with Sophie, did you? After what happened at Mark’s bachelor party?”
Pippa pushed past him, her angry eyes searching the roo
m. She did a quick barrel through the room. Glaring at him, not quite satisfied, she went to the bathroom and tried to get in. Finding the door locked, miracle of miracles, she assumed Sophie was in the shared bathroom.
“Don’t trust me?” He shrugged innocently.
“No.” She completed her visual sweep of the room.
Asher gritted his teeth. He knew why she was so paranoid. She had plenty of friends growing up, but once they were… well… matured… although he regretted it, many came over to take a ride on the Asher train. He’d dug his own grave.
“Pip, really. I’m not that guy anymore. And I don’t think Sophie’s one of those girls.” Shoving her out the door, he tried to close it in her face. Nicely, of course, but he was a little irritated.
She stuck her foot in the door so he couldn’t lock her out yet. “I’m sure that’s true. Just… not Sophie. I couldn’t bear it if you broke her heart.”
He knew what she meant. As much as she cared for her friend, she couldn’t handle the heartbreak of losing another friend to his recklessness. “I know, Pip. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He amended, “Not intentionally anyway.”
“I know.” Downtrodden, not relieved by his reassurances, she started to leave. “Breakfast is keeping warm in the oven when you're hungry. We’re off to see the minister.”
Finally, she unwedged her foot from the door. Immediately, but quietly to avoid arousing suspicion, he closed and locked the door. Never to leave it unlocked ever again. Walking around to the far side of the bed, he watched as Sophie wiggled her way out from under the bed.
“You need to vacuum under there more often.” She brushed a few dust bunnies out of her hair, looking incredibly adorable.
Smoothing her wild hair, he caught himself and pulled his hand back and left it to hang uselessly at his side. “I can’t do this to Pippa. Shit, this sucks. But, I… I like you. A lot.”
Biting her lip, Sophie looked away. Her eyes were moist from the dust or from the moment. He dared to hope it was the moment. Where was that coming from? He’d never wanted a woman to get emotional over him before.
“I like you, too. Maybe we can try the friend thing out for now? At least until after the wedding?”
Hating it, but knowing it was a good idea, Asher nodded. “Yeah.”
She looked up at him, her arms crossed protectively across her chest. “I have a meeting with your Aunt Jane today about the business. Sort of an interview, but she refused to call it that, as she says she’s hiring me anyway.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch her, his body clearly not on board with the friends-only thing, Asher nodded. “That’s great. She’ll be a good business partner. You know where the office is? I have a few errands to run, so we could head in together.” He quickly corrected, “As friends, of course.”
“Sounds good. You know how to pick locks?”
Scowling at the bathroom door, Asher shook his head. “I usually just kick them down. If I have to kick it down, you have to explain to Dad why the door is off its hinges.”
Sophie wasn’t wearing anything but her lace-trimmed tank top and flimsy little cotton panties. Coming out of his bedroom wearing next to nothing, or even his clothes, would really not be helpful at this point.
Pulling on a t-shirt, erection finally at ease, Asher offered, “I’ll unlock it from your end. If there’s anyone out there, it may take me a bit.” Sophie nodded and hid behind the bedroom door while he ventured into the open loft area.
Coast clear, he casually strolled to her room, then dashed in before anyone saw. How the hell the door had locked itself, he’d never know. Stupid electronic locks. It was one of the finest on the market when they’d built the house. His dad had been so excited to stock it at the shop.
Standing in the middle of his bedroom, hip cocked out to the side in pure attitude, Sophie stood waiting for him. He tried not to let his gaze linger on those long legs. Tried not to notice her soft, handful-sized breasts were perky and braless under her tank. Tried not to notice how sexy she looked, all rumpled from sleeping curled up next to him last night.
When Pippa got back from her honeymoon, he was going to have to have a serious talk with her. He wasn’t letting Sophie go.
He’d been a dumbass back in the day, which he knew. He’d always had a bit of trouble controlling his impulses. That was why he rushed his way through high school, then majored in the fastest program he could find; he knew he would flounder for years otherwise. Then joined the navy without a fucking clue what he’d been getting into.
There was this little box on a form to request his preferred unit, and he thought, SEALs are awesome, why not? His impulsivity got his in trouble more often than not, so he’d worked hard to be sure he was constantly on the move before it bit him in the ass.
***
After a quick shower, he dashed downstairs. Thank goodness most of the house appeared to be gone. Pippa and Lincoln must have left for their appointment already.
Coffee. Sleeping in so late, the caffeine headache was kicking in already. The pot nearly empty, he poured the last of the dregs into his cup. Measuring the fragrant grounds, he made a full pot, anticipating the need for a little extra kick this morning.
Sophie would be down soon and be looking for her morning caffeine fix, too. And, as he was, she’d be a bit twitchy from missing their run this morning.
Smirking with what he knew was a dumbass grin on his face, he imagined what might have happened if they hadn’t been so rudely interrupted. She was definitely not the innocent everyone seemed to think. After that stupid game last night, then this morning…
The way she’d tormented him with that feather-light touch until he forgot his own name, then squeezed him so tight… he about came in her hand. He’d been right about those perfect breasts of hers, too. It was going to be a fucking long wait to have her.
Again, rudely interrupted. What was with his family? Paul lumbered around the corner and joined him in the kitchen. Thank god he’d worn thick, snug jeans to keep things subdued this morning. He needed to get his own place. Fast.
“Morning, Asher. Don’t usually see you sleep in so late. Exciting bachelor party last night?” Paul stood next to him, also waiting for the fresh pot of coffee to finish brewing.
He knew his dad was just making conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel defensive. Yeah, he’d nailed Mark’s stripper that night, but it hadn’t exactly been planned or anything. Everyone else had passed out drunk before she finished her routine. With a sailor’s tolerance, he’d been just fine, all systems in full operation. She’d been looking for a little after party action, and he was happy to accommodate.
Crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter, Asher nodded. “It was fun. Not too crazy. I don’t usually stay up so late. Guess I’m getting old.”
Snorting, Paul nodded. “Wait until you’re my age. If you’re usually up so early, maybe you want to take an opening shift at Sutherland’s?”
Nodding, Asher silently agreed with the proposal. Every fucking opportunity and Paul brought it up. Not even much of a segue this time.
Shit, he didn’t want to work at Sutherland’s, but what else was he going to do? He didn’t want to live with his parents forever. It had been long enough already. He’d built a decent savings, but he wanted to save up for a house one day, not blow it on daily expenses just to escape his father while he was unemployed and clueless about his future.
“Great. Are you still thinking early to mid-July? That old truck that seems to occupy your every waking hour will be fixed or in the junk yard by then.” Paul looked at him skeptically.
Why was the coffee taking so damn long? “Sure.”
Paul sighed like a tired old dog, leaning against the kitchen cabinets, his arms folded and legs extended. Looking up from the tile floor, he looked at his son. “Asher, if you’re not up to it yet, just say so.”
That wasn’t it. “I’m sick of sitting around the house. I ju
st… I don’t know. I don’t know what I want long term.” He was a grownup. Why couldn’t he explain to his own father what the problem was?
Shaking his head in disgust, Paul started his characteristic pacing around the room, his already ruddy complexion flushing to beet red. Might as well start kicking dirt like the bull ready to charge that he was.
“You’ve been putting it off for years, jumping around from a useless political science degree to a futureless career in the navy, now you’re hanging out in my garage every day working on a truck that’s never going to run again.”
Paul threw his arms in the air before starting the next lap of the kitchen. “Sutherland’s won’t be right without a Sutherland running it. I’m not going to be there forever. It’s time to get your head on straight and come to work.”
“My head is on straight.” He felt the bull snorting inside himself. Pushing away from the counter, he fired back, louder and fiercer than he normally would have. “I have a fucking college degree. Graduated early, Magna Cum-fucking-Laude. Worked my ass off for the damn navy, one of the most elite units in the world, protecting my country from some truly nightmarish threats. If you want to see my hard-earned medals, that seemed to matter to some of the highest-ranking people in the nation, just let me know.”
Arms folding across his chest, he stood his ground. “You’re not wrong; neither of those were permanent, but they were respectable pursuits according to the rest of society. Not my own dad, though. Not the future you had planned for me, was it? Give me a fucking break.”
The coffee pot sputtered as the last trickle of coffee streamed into the full carafe. Fuming, Asher topped off his cup, barely managing to avoid spilling over the top in his angry dudgeon. He grabbed another mug from the cupboard to fill for Sophie, knowing she must be waiting around the corner. She was too polite to interrupt, but he knew she would be working on a blistering caffeine headache like he was.
All the Days After Page 11