Brushing past his father with both mugs, Asher didn’t wait for a response. Paul stood and watched, looking torn between tearing him a new one and leaving him alone. Thankfully, he didn’t follow.
Asher could picture his father’s indecision, a little devil on one shoulder and a tiny white angel on the other, both demanding he go after his son in some way or another. As usual, Paul stood in between–when the little devil wasn’t taking over–neither finishing the fight nor making peace.
No Sophie around the corner, so he looked up the stairs and saw her waiting at the top, leaning on the rail. As he approached, the angry pit of fire in his gut rapidly morphed into an unusual combination of relief and arousal at seeing her waiting for him.
Dressed as the professional accountant, hair neatly pulled back into a stylish knot, he could picture her wearing cute little reading glasses. Whether she needed them or not, maybe she would be willing to try it out? Pull that mass of mixed, dirty blond hair out of its binding with a sexy hair flip. Yeah, this friend thing wasn’t going to happen.
“You heard?” He handed her a mug and stood next to her at the rail.
Gratefully, she accepted the cup and took a savoring sip of the steaming coffee. Leaning against each other, shoulder to shoulder, they gazed out the large windows. The glowing morning sun lit up the room, the amber light almost blinding.
“I heard. He is proud of you; he just doesn’t know how to say it.” Her fingers sent a tingling reassurance up his arm and lodged in his throat as she caressed the back of his hand with the back of hers.
“Maybe.” He glared at the fresh, steaming cup of joe, taking a cautious, testing sip before deciding it was safe to consume without risk of a singed tongue.
“He is. He just doesn’t know what to do with you. He always knew what he wanted out of life, so he doesn’t understand that you don’t. You’re brainier than he knows what to do with, yet at the same time you’re indecisive and impulsive. You’ll figure out what you want. Give it time.”
Exhaling deeply, he tried to believe her. How had she figured him out so quickly? He still didn’t have himself figured out, nor did his family appear to. “You seem awfully confident about that.”
“I had a damn compass tattooed on me; I was so determined to find my own path. Had to map it out so I didn’t get lost. You don’t need a map or compass. Whatever the terrain, you find a way. Not everyone can do that. Certainly not so smoothly.” She smiled up at him, her expression kind, knowing.
Paul ambled awkwardly out of the kitchen, glanced up at the pair, and stalked out of the house.
Despite her confidence, Asher hadn’t found his flaws as beneficial as she seemed to think them. “Most find that my impulsivity gets me, and others, into trouble more often than not.”
“Are you sure it’s most that feel that way? It seems to me it kept you alive in the navy. You may have a case of survivor’s guilt, but you’re alive and well. Instinct, luck, whatever… you escaped some nasty scrapes. Got you through college too, pretty well, actually. I’m not so sure about that Magna Cum Laude, graduating early nonsense, but to each his own,” she teased with a generous grin. “You go with your gut, roll with the punches. Not everyone has the keen instincts or the mental and physical dexterity that you do.”
Considering, Asher liked the way she said it better. He was so used to being told to stop and think before acting. If he’d done that, he’d be as dead as his team, or his legs as nonfunctional as Jack’s. And wouldn’t be here with Sophie.
“Don’t you have that meeting soon? I can fix breakfast.”
“Toast?” She looked suddenly panicked and gulped the last of her coffee.
Leading the way, he motioned for her to follow him down the stairs. Her nerves had kicked back in again. He had no idea why she was so nervous to meet with Aunt Jane; the woman was fierce but seemed to adore Sophie as much as the rest of his family and was as loyal and good-natured as they come. “You’re in luck, I don’t actually know how to make anything else. However, Mom made scrambled eggs, and I can dish it up for you.”
“Maybe a little. That toast actually sounds better. I don’t think the butterflies in my stomach left much room for anything else.” She managed a weak smile and put her hand over said butterflies.
“Nervous about Jane? She’s a total softy.” Reaching the kitchen, he pulled out their finest loaf of sourdough and popped two slices into the toaster. Leaning back against the counter, he raised his eyebrow at Sophie mischievously.
Sophie stomped her feet and whined pitifully. “That’s the problem. I don’t want her to go easy on me. I want to be a fair partner, not a pity hire. What if she just hires me because she’s a softy? Then I’ll be a total drain to the business, and she’ll be too nice to fire me.”
Sighing, Asher realized this wasn’t an easy battle. As much as he berated himself for his faults, Sophie clearly wasn’t any more immune to self-criticism than he was. “Jane wouldn’t pick just anyone to make her one-woman operation a two-women firm. Trust me. If she didn’t truly think you were capable, she’d have told you about local businesses looking for an accountant.”
Nodding bravely, Sophie was trying to believe his assurances. “Fair point.”
He hooked his fingers in her belt and pulled her between his legs. Resting his mouth on the top of her forehead, he placed a gentle kiss before remembering they were just friends. Friends stood this way, right?
He didn’t have many female friends, or friends in general, really. Surely some friends must stand this way and kiss each other platonically. Or was it only platonic if it didn’t affect them?
“Didn’t you have some amazing internship in Seattle? Work with some impressive accounting firm while you finished school?” He could feel her loosening in his grip, calming down a little. “Oh yeah, that’s right smarty-pants, you have a master’s degree, an accounting certification, and four years of experience in the field. And you’ve got a level head. Total pity hire. I have no idea what Aunt Jane is thinking.”
She pulled back, looked up, and gave him a mocking glare. “I’ll take that toast now.”
***
“Let’s take my truck.”
“Is it behaving today? I don’t want to risk a breakdown on my way to meet Jane. Doesn’t look good to show up late for a not-interview.”
Sophie looked so damn gorgeous, her confidence starting to blossom, strutting her stuff and dressed the part in a pair of slim black slacks paired with a feminine, yet outdoorsy floral top. Perfect for the local business scene.
Even with the heeled boots, she was still shorter than he was. He tried not to imagine how perfectly she’d fit against him in her bare feet. How her legs might wrap around him as he took her against the wall. On her knees in front of him with those lush, pink lips taking him in… dammit, cool your jets.
“Don’t trust my mechanic skills? We made it back home last time.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Looking from his truck to her CR-V and back again, she shook her head. “If we’re late, I’m blaming you.”
With a casual salute, he dashed ahead and opened the creaky, yet functional, passenger door for her. “At the rate we’re going, you’ll be twenty minutes early as it is.”
He fired up the engine. It wheezed and whined, but finally it turned over. “See? No problem.” Hopefully. Easing it into gear, he held his breath. So far so good, shifting smoothly, clutch good, brakes working. What more could he replace on the damn thing?
The drive went smoothly, despite the lack of air conditioning. Her hair had been straightened and pulled into a neat bun so nicely, but now she wore a cute beachy, messy bun look after the wind got to it. Much more fun this way anyway.
They made casual conversation on the drive. It was nice being friends. When was the last time he’d been just friends with a woman? Ever? Although, he supposed it wasn’t really friendship when he kept picturing her naked. Riding him like Lady Godiva. Calling out his name in triumph as she straddled
him in an epic orgasm.
“I forgot to mention, I have an appointment at the bank after I’m done with Jane. I have some documents to sign so my trust fund can be deposited straight into my account.”
Her mother sounded to be great person, and Sophie a well-loved kid. Her aunt must be a nightmare. He couldn’t picture Sophie clothed in the too short but too wide Hollywood-wannabe clothes her aunt had passed along to her that she told him about. “Mom mentioned something about that. Your mom set it up to protect the money from your aunt?”
A look of disgust, Sophie nodded. “Thank goodness. I got a decent chunk at eighteen to help pay for college expenses, another at twenty-four, now I get full control of the rest on my twenty-seventh birthday.”
“When’s your birthday?” Rounding the bend, the truck lurched a bit, refusing to downshift, but finally managed to lock into gear without it stalling.
“Tomorrow,” she answered nonchalantly, her gaze following the passing trees out the window.
“Tomorrow? Why didn’t you say anything?” He tried not to act astonished, but it wasn’t like his family to not start fussing already. Birthdays were a big deal in the Sutherland house.
Picking at a nonexistent fuzzy on her pants, Sophie shrugged. “I don’t want to be a burden. Everyone’s so busy with the wedding, I thought I might be able to slide under the radar this year. I hate the attention anyway.”
“But do you hate cake?” He eyed her meaningfully, trying to get a smile out of her.
Grinning, she looked to be much more at ease with the joking than she had been with the talk of her birthday celebration. “Cake’s okay. I’d rather have pie.”
“Then pie you shall have.” How many birthdays had no one even noticed? Or maybe known about but not cared? He knew Pippa wouldn’t have missed a one, but how could his family be dropping the ball like this?
“I may want to sit and eat the whole damn thing alone, far from cell service anyway.” And her mood was plummeting again.
Fearing why, he couldn’t help but ask. “Lovely Yvette’s going to start asking for more, isn’t she?” Reaching the edge of Foothills proper, he slowed the truck for the first stop light.
Again, finding the most minute strings and fuzzies to pull off her black pants, Sophie shook her head. “Without a doubt. I’m debating giving her a final chunk with some sort of binding agreement so she can never ask for anything more. Wishful thinking, but I’m hoping that will satisfy her for all eternity.”
“You don’t owe her a damn thing. She abused your trust fund and did the least amount of parenting she could for you.” Asher found himself steaming, his fists clenching, ready to lash out at the injustice.
The old pickup was still alive and well as they pulled up in front of Foothills Accounting. Good thing too; she was upset enough, and missing this meeting would have wrecked her. His truck radio hadn’t worked in years, so he glanced at his watch. “See, you’re here precisely fifteen minutes early.”
Grinning, Sophie grabbed her purse. “Meet you at the bank in… two hours? Maybe we can go for an afternoon hike after? As friends, of course,” she quickly corrected.
Watching her enthusiasm quickly building, he couldn’t help but smile with her. “Sure thing. I’ll pick up some supplies in case we get lost in the wilderness,” he teased, remembering her fondness for picnics.
She leaned across and pressed her lips to his for a quick peck on the lips. Friendly, almost platonic. Sort of. She must be having as much trouble with the friend-thing as he was.
Watching her walk in the building, he ran his tongue over his lips to savor her taste. It was going to be a long damn wait. He’d never really waited before, just dove right into the sex part.
Maybe he would have stuck around longer if he’d had to wait before… nah. None of them were Sophie. None were even close to worth waiting for like she was.
11
After correcting the truck into the parking spot, he banged his forehead against the steering wheel. Ouch. It didn’t help. He put some coins in the meter and strolled down the block to the diner, focusing on every little detail that wasn’t Sophie.
As usual, Foothills wasn’t overcrowded, but there was a constant murmuring of activity. Being mid-week, most folks were at work. Those that weren’t were taking the kids to the small grassy park across the street or perusing the shops in search of the latest treasures. A small handful, like Asher, were headed into Larissa’s Diner for a late breakfast, or a place to rest and consider their plans for the day over a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.
“Well, I’ll be. Asher Sutherland. You get on over here and give old Larissa a hug.” Straight out of Alabama, Larissa hadn’t shaved off a trace of her accent in the thirty years she’d run Larissa’s Diner in Foothills. She set down the menus she’d been holding and sashayed toward him.
Glad for the warm welcome, Asher met her halfway and pulled her in for a big bear hug, lifting her sturdy frame a few inches off the ground. Before he could step out of reach, she whacked him on the shoulder with the plaid hand towel she chronically kept draped over her shoulder. “Always the flirt. Although, not for long from what Irene tells me.”
Shit. In trying to let Irene off easy, he told her he’d met someone. It was true, becoming truer by the day, but nothing he could actually let anyone know about. “Keep your voice down, I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” he teased back, unable to hide the grin, hoping one day to shout from the rooftops that he had taken the fall.
“What can I get for you? You eat breakfast already?” She waggled back to her post behind the counter.
He gestured to a booth by the window. It was still a few minutes to ten. “Just passing the time. Cup of coffee?”
“Are you going to order a cup of coffee and not have a slice of pie to go with that? I’ve got my famous strawberry-rhubarb just finished cooling.” She grabbed the carafe of coffee from behind the bar and followed him to his choice of booth and flipped a waiting coffee cup right-side up, setting it gently on the paper doily coaster and filled it with piping hot coffee.
Asher grinned, “How could I possibly turn down a slice of your strawberry-rhubarb pie?”
Leaving him to enjoy his coffee, she disappeared to grab the pie. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he couldn’t let her down by not trying the pie. And eating every last bite. Maybe it was her feelings, or maybe a clever sales tactic, but he couldn’t say no either way.
After devouring every last gooey morsel of the pie and raving over it, two cups of coffee, and an hour of letting his brain wander to stranger and more confusing places, like what he was going to do with the rest of his life, he was beyond restless. One could only play so many games on his phone and stare out the window for so long.
Heading up to the counter, he cashed out. “Thanks Larissa. Can you have a whole one of your excellent strawberry rhubarb pies ready for me about this time tomorrow? Maybe another one, something seasonal you can recommend?”
She beamed at the praise. “For you, anything. I can whip up a fine blueberry pie to go with it. What’s the occasion?”
“Birthday party.”
A sly expression crossed her face, her eyes curious, “For your lady friend?”
Looking around the diner, he ensured no one could hear them. No one he knew, anyway. “That’s right. Not a word now, okay?”
“Secrets don’t help anyone, you know.” Serious now, she held the full lecture he knew she could deliver. In spades. As the not-angry, or even bitter, mother of an ex-lover of his, he knew she was openminded and understanding. He also knew she was a hopeless romantic.
Her husband owned Ahab’s and, although the two worked essentially opposite shifts, the pair was obviously as in love today as the day they met. Maybe more. Asher had made his preference for no-commitment very clear to Irene from day one, which she had preferred as well.
Which was probably why they still got along well. She’d been on the lookout for true love, and he’d had no idea what he
wanted. So, they had just messed around with no strings attached.
Asher hated the secret more than he could say. Even if he and Sophie were just friends for now. Despite their efforts to cool down, they wouldn’t be just friends if he didn’t believe it and neither did Sophie. “I know. Trust me, it wasn’t my idea, and I won’t have to keep mum for long. No choice in this case.”
One hand on her hip, the other waggled at him like the second mother she designated herself as. “She’d better be worth it.”
“She is.” He couldn’t contain the smile as he imagined when he could bring Sophie in here and show her off. With a wave, he strolled out the door and caught the friendly air kiss Larissa blew in his direction. A friendly jingling announced his departure as he opened the diner door, warm air wafting across his skin as he entered the balmy street.
As morning had passed into afternoon, town was now bustling with locals and tourists alike, more than he remembered from his childhood, but somehow still pleasantly peaceful. Having another hour to kill, he tried to find something to keep him occupied. Sutherland’s Hardware was a block and a half away.
Nope, not going there. Not today. Today was too nice of a day to stress himself out that way.
Not that he was practicing avoidance behaviors, as he now could identify this tendency in himself thanks to therapy. Cringing, he pictured himself selling plywood and light fixtures for the rest of his life. It was great work, and he wouldn’t hate it. His dad sure liked it. It just wasn’t for him.
He could picture himself still working for Sutherlands thirty years from now, simply because he hadn’t found something better. It would be fine. He just wasn’t eager to get stuck in a long-term career that didn’t interest him in the least.
Instead, he headed into the next shop down. Sporty’s was having a sale. He could always use new running shoes, maybe stock up on camping gear. His tent should be fine, but his sleeping bag hadn’t been used in ages and was likely dust laden and moth eaten from storage in the garage.
All the Days After Page 12