That’s when Ashley noticed Jasmine’s hand. Or rather, the big, fat diamond ring adorning the ring finger of Jasmine’s left hand. Ash grabbed her hand to take a closer look. “You’re engaged?” She rubbed the stone. It was huge, something a celebrity might wear.
“I am.” Jasmine beamed. “His name’s Parker, and we’ve been living in sin for two years, so we figured it’s time.”
“Wow.”
C’mon, Ash. Plenty of words in the English language.
She cleared her throat. “Where’d you meet?”
“Chicago. At this party. It was really posh and I totally felt out of place.” She leaned close to Ash and whispered, “He said I was the most exotic woman he’d ever met.” She giggled. “Me. Little old Jasmine Sweet from Half Moon Creek, exotic? Can you believe it?”
This time Ashley managed to contain the wow that sat tingling on the tip of her tongue. “He’s obviously got good taste.”
Jasmine squeezed Ashley’s fingers. “I was going to call to tell you, then I thought, why not come and tell you in person instead?” She opened her mouth in a silent, happy scream, and a second later, Ashley found herself crushed once more in Jasmine’s arms, the wet patch on Jasmine’s blouse soaking into the only dry patch on her T-shirt.
“I’m happy for you,” Ashley said. “Really happy.”
“You want to see a picture?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine fished her phone out of her pocket and flipped through the photo app. “Oh, here’s a good one.”
Holy shit. Parker wasn’t just good-looking, he was...perfect. Perfect blond hair. Perfect clothes that were trendy and fit him...perfectly. Straight white teeth showing up in his perfect smile.
“He’s very...handsome.” Ash handed the phone back to her friend, who stuck it in her pocket again. “You must be very happy.”
“I am.” Clapping her hands with glee, Jasmine gushed, “But do you know what would make me happier?”
Ash slowly shook her head. Was it possible for someone to be happier than Jasmine currently was? Was it even fair?
“If you help me plan it.” She shivered. “Oh, it’ll be like old times. Say yes.”
“Of course.” Ash pulled her lips back in what she hoped resembled a smile of sorts.
They went back to serving drinks, and, if at all possible, Jasmine served with even more vigor than before. In fact, her energy was in direct proportion to Ashley’s sudden lack of enthusiasm, to the point where Beth asked her what her problem was.
“No problem,” Ash snapped.
With arms crossed over her chest, she studied her. Narrowing her gaze, she glanced at Jasmine, then back at her. “Take a break.”
“No—”
Her sister took hold of her by the shoulders. “Your shirt is a mess.” She touched her hair. “This is a mess.” Using her chin she indicated the back of the saloon. “I’ve got a makeup kit and a stack of extra shirts in the office. Go get yourself sorted.”
“Fine.”
Ash slipped down the bar toward the door to the kitchen. Her skin felt tight, every inch of her sensitive to the sogginess of her shirt, the tickle of errant wisps of hair against her face, the cinch of her belt.
What was wrong with her?
Jasmine’s laugh chased her all the way into the kitchen, nipping at her heels and making her flinch with the cheery sound of it. She paused just inside the kitchen, leaning against the wall. The last time she’d felt this way was the day before Jasmine had up and left Half Moon Creek.
Memories flooded her. The first week as a freshman, when Jasmine’s family had moved to town and Jazzy had decided they should be best friends because they were in three out of four classes together. They’d become inseparable after that, hanging out after school, and on weekends. All the important firsts were shared: first time skinny-dipping at the quarry, first time trying cigarettes—Jasmine’s idea. First time texting boys—ones Jasmine liked. First dates—Jasmine’s. First kisses—also Jasmine’s...
Four long years of Ashley living in Jasmine’s shadow.
Now, after just an hour, she was right back in it. Only now the shadow was bigger than ever, and Ash wondered if she’d ever see the light of day again.
“What are you doing?” Zoe, the shiest of her shy twin sisters, said. “You look sick.”
“I’m fine.” Ash gave herself a mental shake and went on into the office in the back to freshen up. Beth’s makeup bag sat open on the desk, and she had a stack of identical black tank tops with the pub’s logo on the back sitting on the corner. After stripping off her sticky shirt, she pulled one on.
She checked herself out in the mirror. God, how could Beth wear these all the time? Yes, they were made of that stretchy spandex cotton blend, but Beth had at least two cup sizes on Ash, and the tank top was tight on Ashley. However, right now, tight was better than beer-sodden, so, after unsuccessfully stretching the material—it was like elastic, snapping right back into place—Ashley loosened her hair and ran a brush through it before refastening her ponytail. There was no way she could pull off the sleek, sophisticated look that Jazz had, but at least it was neat. Neater.
Never one to wear much makeup, she pored through all the junk in Beth’s bag before finding a lip gloss that didn’t look too bright and some blush.
There.
She blinked at herself in the mirror.
Marginally better.
“Oh, my God. That’s a thousand times better,” her sister said when Ashley reemerged a minute later.
“Look at you!” Jasmine cried. “God, you are so cute.” She shook her head in wonder. “I tell you, you are exactly the same.” She indicated the bar with a sweep of her hand. “Just like this place. I love it.”
Something deep in the pit of Ashley’s stomach let out a low, menacing growl.
“It’s like time stands still here.”
Errrrr...
“It’s so comforting.” Jasmine closed her eyes and smiled. “You have no idea.”
The growly thing in her tummy reached up and snagged the inside of her throat, making it difficult to swallow.
“So, tell me, cutie-pie.” Because she was wearing high heels, Jasmine had to stoop a little in order to lean Ash’s way. “Anyone snatched you up yet?”
The hot, beasty thing inside of her had tentacles, one of which was snaking up her spinal cord and others that slithered into her extremities. Whatever it was, it was intent on possessing her, and the growl in her tummy slipped right out of her throat.
“What did you say?” Jasmine asked with a wrinkle of her nose.
Ash licked her lips, about to embark on a diatribe, about what? She had no idea. “Yeah, I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“You do?”
“Sure.”
Someone cleared his throat.
“Hey, honey, about those nachos...?”
Ashley spun. Colton Cross stood there, adjusting his cowboy hat so it tilted back on his thick head. Perfect. “Nachos?”
“Yeah.” He squinted.
“You want nachos, baby?” She beckoned him closer. “C’mere.”
A puzzled expression settled over his features as he leaned across the bar. When Ash fisted her hand in the front of his shirt and tugged, his expression went from puzzled to wide-eyed surprise.
“Look, I’m sorry if I offended—” he began.
She didn’t let him finish. For whatever-God-forsaken-reason, Ashley leaned across the bar and planted a juicy one, square on Colton Cross’s lips, sucking his apology right out of his mouth before he had a chance to finish.
“What the—”
Her mouth still close to his, she whispered, “Pretend to be my boyfriend, just for tonight, and your nachos and beer tab are on the house.”
2
WHAT THE FUCK had just happened? The snippy girl from behind the bar kissed him. Like, full-on, openmouthed kissed him.
“Pretend to be my boyfriend, just for tonight, and your nachos and beer tab are on the house.”
“Is this a—” Colton intended to say, “joke,” but the girl locked her lips on him once more, shutting him up.
So, Colton decided to roll with it. Why the hell not? Seemed like a decent deal to him, free beer and nachos for a little bit of spit swapping? He pulled away. “As much as I want?”
“As much as you want, what?” she whispered, her face flushed, like she was angry.
Weird chick.
“Beer. Nachos.” He wet his lips and was about to say “kisses,” because—damn—the girl might be a harpy but she wasn’t half-bad in the kissing department.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She blinked hard. “No, wait.” It was like she was doing a calculus problem in her head, her eyes rolled up and to the side, and her ruby lips moved silently, like she was figuring something out. “Well, within reason. Like you better be legal to drive home to the Silver Tree Ranch afterwards.”
“How’d you know where I live?”
“God!” She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes again. Whatever he’d done to piss her off was clearly still irritating her, despite her lusty lip on lip action.
“Is this him?”
A dark-haired beauty leaned on the bar, a hand outstretched. “I’m Jasmine. Ashley and I go way back.”
Ashley. Right. Good thing the friend mentioned her name, because he’d forgotten it and almost called her Brenda again. He shook the woman’s hand. “Colton.”
Ashley gave him a fierce look, trying to convey...something. Who the hell knew what this woman wanted? She turned to her friend and said, “Colt and I had a bit of a fight earlier, so...” She shrugged. Like that summed up their whole relationship. Which, as far as he was concerned, it did.
“She was snippy,” he offered, helpfully.
She glowered. “You were an ass.”
Rubbing his jaw, he said, “Can’t say I recall that part.”
“We might break up.” Her face was red. Not a sweet blushing red, but a fiery red, complete with nostrils flared and steam spewing out of the ears. Angry-bull red.
He chucked her beneath the chin. “She’s so funny. It’s why I love her.”
Her eyes went saucer-sized.
Damn. Too far?
“I mean, I don’t love her, love her.”
Yes. There was the steam pouring out of her orifices again. This was fun.
He flashed a well-meaning Cross family smile at Ashley’s friend, who watched their interaction with a little pucker between her brows. Leaning toward her, he said, “I love making her mad, is what I mean. She’s feisty when she’s mad. And when she’s feisty...?” He whistled high, then low, hoping the friend would catch his meaning. Shit, this was the easiest free grub ever. “So, babe,” he said to Ashley, “about those nachos. I’m thinking a double order for me and the boys at the end of the bar. Sound like a plan?”
“Sure.”
“I’m also thinking a couple more makeup kisses are in order, too.”
Kaboom.
She was like a cartoon character, blowing her top.
Hands up in mock self-defense, he said, “I’ll collect later.” He grinned and then wove his way back down to the end of the bar, looking forward to telling the boys how he’d finagled free food for the lot of them.
* * *
“HUH,” JASMINE SAID, a wrinkle between her brows as she watched Colton walk away.
Ash rubbed the spot between her own brows in response because she could feel way more than a wrinkle there. A chasm.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What the hell had she done?
“Well,” Jazzy’s frown slipped away to make room for a huge smile. “He is one hot tamale.” She leaned close and whispered, “How’s the sex?”
Ash choked on her spit. Her sister, very helpful sister that she was, smacked her hard between the shoulder blades. A couple good hard whacks. Then, when Ash finished choking, she leaned down and hissed in her ear, “I told you to flirt, not make out with the customers.”
Ash gave Beth a meaningful look. At least her sister got her looks. Unlike the dolt she’d chosen to be her pretend boyfriend.
Coughing once more, Ashley said to Jasmine, “Sex is super hot.” So hot, in fact, her whole body swarmed with fire ants at the thought.
“Huh,” Jasmine said. Did the fact that this was the second time she had said huh mean that her friend was dumbstruck by her choice of boyfriend? If so, maybe this wasn’t such a mistake after all.
“You guys have an interesting...” Jazz twisted her ponytail around her finger as she considered how to finish her sentence. Instead of finishing, she opted to change the subject. “How long have you been together?”
“Oh,” Ashley said, swiping her hand across her lips, intent on removing any lingering bit of Colton Cross from her mouth. “Not long.” Only the understatement of the century. “I doubt it’ll last.”
Beth snorted.
“Why do you say that?” Jazz asked.
Ashley turned to pour some drinks. Over her shoulder she said, “We’re too different.”
“How so?”
She shrugged. “We want different things. We have different philosophies on life. You know, the kind of thing that makes a long-term relationship impossible.”
For the first time that evening, Jasmine’s bubble of happiness wavered. She blinked at Ashley, a serious expression stealing over her features as Ash slid filled glasses to Jazz. “So then...” Her friend passed the pints of draft to the patrons waiting. “Why?”
Sticking her head between them, Beth answered for Ash. “Because the sex is so damn hot, she can’t keep her hands off of him.”
And for the millionth time, Ashley wished she was an only child.
Thankfully a rush of customers made it difficult to talk about the subject of her fake boyfriend anymore, and when the nachos were ready, fifteen minutes later, Ashley took them herself to the end of the bar where Colton was surrounded by his buddies.
“Here you go,” she said, sliding the platter close before turning to go.
“Hold on a sec.” He grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.
Ash’s automatic response was to tug, but Colton was stupidly strong. “What?”
The sinful grin, that all the women in Half Moon were talking about, flashed across his face. “I’m of a mind to collect.”
“Collect what?”
“A couple more kisses.”
After a glance over her shoulder to see if Jasmine was watching—which she was—and then a glance over his to see if his friends were watching—which they were—Ash went up on tiptoes, placed her free hand on Colton’s broad shoulder and whispered in his ear, “No.”
This did not deter him. He released her hand only so he could slip his arm around her waist and pull her in tight against him. “If you were my real girlfriend, we’d be kissing right now,” he said in a low voice, just for her. Then he waited to see what her response was to that.
She wedged a hand up between them, placing her palm flat against his chest—was it normal to have such hard muscles hiding behind a button-up shirt? No. She didn’t think so—and pushed. There was no give whatsoever. “But I’m not your girlfriend. We’re just pretending. Remember?”
“Oh, I remember. But you want to put on a show.” With a tilt of his chin, he indicated Jasmine. “So let’s put on a show.”
“How’d you know?”
Using his knuckles beneath her chin, he tilted her head up. “There’s only one reason a woman wants a fake boyfriend.” He ducked down so that he was a mere inch away from her mo
uth. His warm breath made the wisps of hair that inevitably escaped the ponytail holder tickle her cheeks.
“What’s that?” There was way too much breathiness in her whisper for her liking.
“To make her friends jealous.” He waited a half second, his eyes glued to hers. When she didn’t move, didn’t shove, didn’t object in any way, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
This was not the kiss she’d expected. She’d expected something for show, him bending her over the bar, making slurping noises as he pretended to make out with a passion he didn’t feel.
That was not what this was. This was slow. Leisurely. Like he enjoyed getting to know her mouth. Like he wanted to explore her lips, the inside and outside of them. Not to mention deep inside her mouth. His big hand cupped the back of her head, and he tilted her—gently—one way and then the other, as he slanted his mouth over hers. When he finally pulled away, she was left, lips parted, panting.
“That ought to do it.”
She blinked once, twice, three times before coming back to herself, suddenly cluing in to the fact that the whistles and catcalls were because of the show they’d put on.
Oh, shit.
What had she done?
* * *
“WHAT THE HELL was that?” Colton’s brother, Dillon, asked, giving him a dirty look.
“You’re married. You should know what a kiss looks like.”
Dillon arched a brow.
“Or, is that what happens once you knock ’em up? No more face sucking?”
With arms crossed over his chest, like he meant to intimidate him, Dillon said, “Don’t be an ass. That was Beth Ozark’s sister. The sweet one. Definitely not your type.” He glanced over his shoulder, then indicated that direction with his chin. “Seems to me if you want a plaything, Brandi’s more your speed.”
Colton shifted to get a look at the other sister. Short skirt, tight top, nice hair, pouty lips. Their eyes met, and she gave him a dark, questioning look. Colton lifted his pint in salute.
And drank.
What was everyone’s problem? So, he kissed a girl. Big fucking deal. It wasn’t like he’d started it. He took another deep drink of his beer, finishing half, thinking about the kiss. The sister had tasted good. Fresh. Not fresh as in innocent, because she’d kissed him back like she’d done it plenty of times before. Done it, enjoyed it and meant to do it again.
Wild Seduction Page 2