by Janie Crouch
Summer could feel her eyes widen. “That was you? Your truck was the one I saw burning all over the news?”
Ashton shrugged. “Yeah. Calling you without giving away everything was difficult.”
“You know what could’ve solved that?”
“What?”
“You telling me the very first time you met me who you were and what you did for a living.”
* * *
SUMMER WAS MAD.
Not that he’d really expected any differently, but Summer mad didn’t really fit into his mental image of her. Her personality had always matched her name. She’d always been lighthearted, kind and smiling.
Her smile was nowhere around now.
She’d at least taken the flowers, and was now in the process of putting them in a vase.
He could tell her the story of how he’d tracked down Marcel, the owner of The Blooming Idiot, to find out what had been in Friday’s original bouquet and where he could purchase them. He could tell her how Marcel had laughed when Ashton had told him he was definitely in the doghouse with her now. But he wasn’t sure if she would appreciate the story or not.
Honestly, he was just glad she’d let him through the door.
When he’d heard Chloe’s sweet little voice this morning calling out to him with such joy at the grocery store, he’d been thrilled. He wanted to squeeze her little legs and hear her talk to him in her gibberish like she always did. And he’d known, without even consciously thinking it, wherever Chloe was, her breathtaking mother wasn’t far behind.
When Summer turned around, face devoid of all color, he’d remembered where he was. That he was in full SWAT gear. What he was doing.
He remembered every secret he’d ever kept from her.
Lillian had patted him on the shoulder and taken his rifle. “Good luck, dude. You’re going to need it.”
Ashton wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Summer, but he knew he had to say something.
Then she’d turned and left. Without a word. Chloe’s cries breaking his heart.
He’d wanted to go after them right then and there. To explain. To at least try to get Summer to listen to him.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave an active crime scene while he was on the clock, even if it looked like the crisis had already passed.
Plus, what exactly would he say to Summer there in front of dozens of other people?
So he’d watched her walk away, worry burning like acid in his gut. He’d been terrified that her rigid back and quick pace in the other direction might be the last time he ever saw her.
When Joe had hunted him down this afternoon, asking Ashton what the hell was going on with Summer, demanding why she wanted to know whether Ashton worked for Joe, the situation had gotten worse. Ashton had explained the misunderstanding about him being the handyman, since he’d fixed her garbage disposal himself a few months ago.
Nobody blamed him for that.
He’d told Joe what happened, how it had basically just accidentally grown over time. Joe wanted to know the same thing Ashton was sure Summer wanted to know: why hadn’t he just told her afterward that he wasn’t the normal handyman? Maybe she would’ve laughed.
Haha. My mistake. If I can’t pay you, can I take you out to dinner?
Maybe that’s how it would’ve gone, what she would’ve said. And Ashton wouldn’t be standing here now afraid he was about to lose the person who had been his first thought in the morning and last thought at night for the past six months.
Now she was glaring at him where he stood awkwardly in the middle of her living room, “Where’s Chloe?” he finally asked.
“She’s at Joe and Laura’s house. I didn’t want her to be around for a bunch of yelling.”
He winced. They stared at each other.
She took a step closer, then stopped. “You told me you were the condo’s handyman.”
“No. I never said that.” He shook his head. “That first afternoon, I told you Joe asked me to deal with the broken garbage disposal, that I wanted to look at it myself first and that we could call a specialist if needed.”
“But you knew what I thought.”
“I didn’t. Especially not that first time. You offered to pay me, but that wasn’t so unusual.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve called you back like eight times in the last six months. You had to have known I thought you were the maintenance man for the condo!” Her volume rose.
He winced again. “Look, I’m not saying I handled it well. I didn’t. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”
That didn’t seem to appease her in the slightest. “I thought you were shy. I bought that ‘I grew up on a farm in Wyoming’ stuff hook, line and stupid. Was any of it even true?”
Ashton ran a hand through his hair. “Of course it’s true. It’s all true.” Now his voice rose slightly. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you, Summer. The only thing I wasn’t fully up-front about was the fact that I’m Omega Sector.”
But that wasn’t the complete truth, now was it? Yet he couldn’t bring up her husband’s death now. Not until the initial shock of his sudden career change had been dealt with. Maybe not ever.
“I feel like an idiot that I didn’t figure it out.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
Her hurt look was much, much worse than the angry one. “Summer, no. Don’t feel that way. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to trick you.”
“Then why? Why didn’t you just crack a joke when I called you the second time to come fix stuff?” She deepened her voice to imitate him. “‘Hey, Summer, let me get you the number of a real maintenance guy. I’m pretty good at fixing things, but I work with Joe at Omega, so I won’t always have time to help you.’”
It sounded so simple to hear her say it.
“After I missed my early chance, there just never seemed to be the right time to say it.”
“You should’ve made the right time, Ashton. Even if we both were embarrassed.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I know, okay? But I thought you wouldn’t have me around anymore if you knew. That you wouldn’t be interested in spending time with a member of law enforcement.”
She stared at him for a long minute, seeming to battle some inner emotion. He thought maybe he was off the hook, but then her arms dropped and her eyes narrowed.
“It was you.” She pointed her finger at his chest.
For a terrified second, Ashton was afraid she meant the situation about her husband. But she couldn’t know that. No one knew that.
“It was me who what?” he asked hesitantly.
“It was you who got me out of the fire, wasn’t it? A few months ago, when Bailey Heath kidnapped Chloe and me, you were the one who carried us out.”
She seemed quite upset about that.
“Yes?” It shouldn’t have been a question but it came out as one, wary of her reaction.
She stormed over to him. “I dreamed it was you. And convinced myself I was absolutely crazy, because how could the handyman be the person who had gotten us out of a burning building?”
Oh damn. “Summer—”
“That couldn’t possibly be right. You were shy. Timid, even.” She began to pace back and forth right in front of him, her voice getting louder and louder. “Which was fine, I had no problem with that. But you just weren’t the type of guy who would be a part of Omega Sector. I’ve met some of them. They’re all alpha male, save-the-world sorts of guys who could lead a crowd to safety at any moment. But you seemed more comfortable chatting with my toddler than talking to me.”
She turned and poked him in the chest. “I convinced myself that I was delusional. I mean, yeah, you had the muscles, so maybe physically you could’ve been a part of Omega. But not in personality. In mindset. I berated myself that
I was so desperate for some sort of knight in shining armor that my mind was trying to make you something you weren’t. I felt horrible.”
This was so much worse than he’d thought it would be. “Summer. Don’t.”
“But now, come to find out, my subconscious was right the whole time. You’re not shy. You are one of those alpha males—a take-charge kind of guy. You’re the absolute epitome of Omega Sector.” She stood there and glared at him. “Everything I thought I knew about you was completely wrong.”
He took a step back, surprised at how hollow he felt at her words. He’d known all along Summer wasn’t interested in becoming involved with someone in law enforcement. This was it. The end.
Over before it even began.
“And that’s not what you want, is it?” he asked quietly. The least he could do was give her an easy way out.
She stared up at him. “Are you kidding? I get all hot inside just thinking about it.”
Chapter Ten
He didn’t look like he believed her.
And she was standing here feeling like her insides might incinerate any minute. Part of it was anger, sure—she was pissed at what he’d done.
But more of it was the attraction she’d felt for him for the past seven months, since he’d first walked through the door. She’d let herself get convinced that she wasn’t really the type of woman he wanted—since he was so shy, he would want someone more demure, less outgoing.
He wasn’t shy. She wasn’t demure. The urge to throw him down on the couch again and have her way with him was damn near overwhelming.
And he was looking at her as if he didn’t believe she was attracted to him.
“Ashton, for months I’ve looked for every possible thing wrong with this condo to bring you back over here. I didn’t actually break anything myself, but I have to admit, I thought about it.”
He smiled a little at that. “I wouldn’t have minded fixing it, if you did.”
“That’s just it. I thought you were a shy, tongue-tied handyman who was raised on a farm. Who was nice enough to come over whenever I called. Just being polite.”
“I’m not shy. Not really tongue-tied. I just didn’t want to lie to you so I thought saying the least I could about anything having to do with my job was better. That’s why I stuck to stories about growing up.”
Thank goodness. This all would be a nonstarter for her if he’d been lying to her the whole time. Or probably if he was really that shy. “I see that now.”
“And that’s not the kind of man you want? The shy, kind-of-bumbling guy?”
She took a step closer. “No. I was attracted to you despite the shyness. Not because of it.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Good. I never minded being here, you know. I wanted to. I always hoped you would call.”
She took another step forward like a magnet pulled her. Her fingertips itched to touch him.
“And, of course, I wanted to help. Because I knew...” He trailed off, looking down at the ground. “I knew what happened with Tyler.”
The heat building inside her completely dissipated with his words.
She should’ve known, of course. Should’ve guessed that he knew about Tyler. Omega Sector wasn’t that big. Ashton obviously knew Joe and so it made sense that he’d know about Tyler’s death.
She could feel something inside her shriveling. Shy or confident, Ashton still hadn’t been here all these months because he wanted her.
“Summer, what? What just happened? Tell me.”
She took a step back, studying the ground. She couldn’t say it. It was too hard. She shook her head.
But he just stepped closer. “What, Summer? Tell me.” He slid a finger under her chin, the first time he’d touched her since he’d walked into the condo.
“I thought you were here because you liked me, okay? Me. Everybody else in my life knows about Tyler. Knows how he died. Thinks of me—to at least some degree—as the poor young widow and single mom who lost her husband tragically.” She threw up her arms, volume rising again. “I thought you were the handyman who didn’t know anything about me! Who was just too shy to ask me out.”
“Summer—”
She stepped back farther. “But instead, just like everyone else, you were just here because you felt sorry for me. Wanted to make my life easier. I just want someone to want me for me. For that desire to be completely untainted by the ‘poor young widow’ scenario.”
He threaded a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that at all. Was never like that.”
“But you knew about Tyler’s death before you started your handyman duties.”
He took in a deep breath. “Well, yeah. Everyone knew.”
Exactly. Everyone knew. She turned her face away, letting out a sigh.
“And that’s always going to be the case, isn’t it? You’re never going to be able to see me without it being through the widow filter. You’re never just going to see me as Summer, the woman.”
Vaguely aware she was being unreasonable, fussing at a man who’d done nothing but help her for months but seeming unable to stop, she turned toward the kitchen.
“Summer—”
She didn’t turn back to look at him. Couldn’t look at that gorgeous face, those brown eyes. “I get it, Ashton. I really do. You’re a decent person. You don’t want me to struggle. But I don’t think it’s me you really want.”
She walked into the kitchen but barely made it two steps before his large hands snaked around her waist, spinning and pushing her up against the counter.
She gasped, unaware he could move so silently or quickly, although she shouldn’t be surprised. She grasped his biceps to keep her balance.
“Our history will always be complicated because of my involvement with Omega, but you damn well can put away any doubts that I don’t want you,” he said, leaning in so their faces were just inches apart. “Because mistakes or no mistakes, secrets or not, I have always wanted you with a ferocity that eats through me.”
Then he kissed her, his hand reaching to curl around her neck, the hold possessive. His tongue traced her lips before thrusting into her mouth.
Heat coursed through her instantly.
He pulled her hard against his body in a way that could leave no doubt whatsoever that he wanted her. His mouth was hot, wet, open against hers, gentleness nowhere to be found.
Good. She didn’t want gentle. Didn’t want to be treated as if she was fragile, breakable. Gripping his waist, she pulled him closer, her tongue dueling with his.
He kissed her like he planned to never stop, kissed her in a way she never dreamed shy, handyman Ashton was capable of.
But this Ashton—the real Ashton—was capable. His breath gusted hot along her jaw as he shifted slightly, grabbed her waist and hoisted her up onto the counter. His hands moved to her hips as he slid her forward until they rested against each other, her hips cradling his.
Summer moaned as his lips moved down to her neck, sharp little nips by his teeth immediately soothed by his tongue. One of his hands moved up, fisting a handful of her hair to keep her in place.
All Summer could do was hang on. She felt her hips thrust against his of their own accord. She wanted him. Wanted this man. Right now.
“Ashton.” She groaned his name out as his lips moved back up to hers. Could feel his movements becoming as frantic as she felt.
“Don’t ever doubt I want you,” he said against her lips. “I’ve wanted you every hour of every day since the moment you showed me this garbage disposal.” He hooked a thumb toward the sink right next to them.
He slid his hands under her buttocks and pulled her all the way off the counter. She hooked her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom and proceeded to show her exactly how much he wanted her.
SUMMER ROLLED OVER in her sleep, scooting closer against him. Ashton smiled. If the woman got any closer, she’d be sleeping on top of him.
Which would suit him just fine.
He rubbed a hand up and down her back. By whatever means he’d managed to dodge a bullet in this situation, he’d thank his lucky star and whatever other mixed metaphor. He slid his hand down to Summer’s naked hip and pulled her closer.
Pity was the absolute last emotion he felt for her. It had nothing to do with why he’d come around here. And yes, he’d been willing to settle for less, to be a sort of silent guardian. He’d wanted to help out wherever he could—not just with handyman stuff, but any part of Summer’s life where she’d needed help.
He still hadn’t told her about Tyler’s death. That he’d been there. That he’d had a shot.
He doubted very seriously she’d be lying here so trustingly with him if she knew. He brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes. He never should’ve let things get so far without telling her the entire truth.
And he’d wanted to, had planned to ease into it. Trying just to break one piece of bad news at a time. But then she’d looked so distraught at the thought that he’d only been hanging around her because he felt sorry for her.
Proving that wasn’t true had taken priority over everything else. He’d honestly just meant to kiss her. To pull her up against him and prove there was no way he didn’t want her.
Because he had. He’d wanted her from the first moment he met her. Hadn’t been interested in another woman since the first time they’d spoken.
He’d known of Summer for a long time, since the day her husband was killed. Joe—feeling even more guilty than Ashton had about Tyler’s death—had started a friendship with her. Ashton had sort of watched that from afar.
But then when that psycho had taken Summer and Chloe, and Ashton had carried them out of that burning warehouse...something had changed for him. It was like once he’d had actual contact with Summer, he couldn’t force himself to stay away any longer. So when Joe had asked him to deal with her maintenance problem, Ashton had been happy to.