Page 85 of Wicked Heat

He says nothing to that, but I can’t help but notice the way his body stiffens just a little and the way his chin lifts. “They certainly kept you in the loop.”

“More like I’m invisible when I’m in nanny-mode. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. It’s something I overheard, and not my business. To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until you mentioned it. Sorry. I don’t’ mean to get all up in your business.”

“It’s fine.”

He still doesn’t look at me, and unlike his usual ease while driving, he’s holding the steering wheel as if it’s a life-preserver on the Titanic.

“Ash? Are you okay?” I feel like I’ve said something horribly wrong, but I don’t know what it could be.

“I’m great actually.” His voice is thick with emotion. “The truth is, I haven’t touched that trust. I always felt it was his way of buying me off.”

“Are you kidding? He loves you. The whole family loves you.”

“I know. But I didn’t believe it at the time, and I think that early animosity tainted that trust fund for me. Your reminder that they love me removed that shadow.”

I hug myself, hating that he’d ever felt even the tiniest bit alienated from the people I knew genuinely loved him.

“I am a part of that family, now,” he says. “It’s a strange kind of miracle, but Damien truly feels like both my father and my friend. And Nikki feels more like an older sister than a stepmom. And those kids—I’d give my life for those kids, but they’re so much younger they seem more like nieces and nephews than siblings.”

“I get that.”

“But none of that matters because at the end of the day, they’re family, no matter what label I use. It took me a long time getting here. And a long time believing that Damien felt the same. And honestly, I don’t think I knew until this moment how quickly he really did pull me into the family.”

He reaches for my hand. So, thank you again,” he says again, and it’s only when I try to respond and can’t that I realize my cheeks are wet and my throat is clogged with tears.

He lets go, then gently brushes my cheeks. “At any rate, the point is that Aria’s right about the facts, but not about her conclusion. I’ve got enough assets to free up the three mil for you. And even though I’d rather go the OPM route, I’ve also got enough to bankroll the INX project if I need to.”

“OPM?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Other people’s money,” he says with a grin. “Definitely the preferred way to go. But I have assets I can liquidate and add to what I’ve already invested in INX if it comes to that. Not the most astute financial decision, but it’s doable. With plenty still there for you.”

I nod with relief and understanding.

Or, I think with a frown, mostly understanding. “I understand the OPM thing,” I tell him. “I’ve watched enough financial news and hung around the Stark house enough to know that diversification is good. But I also remember overhearing Damien talking about the INX-20. How he thinks it’s going to change the industry. And how he wanted to invest, but you asked him not to.”

“True.”

“But why?”

Ash doesn’t turn to look at me. “If I can’t find another investor, I’m the one who’ll fill that gap. Not Damien.”

“Again, why? You just said that would make your position too large. That it wasn’t the most financially sound decision.”

“I’m willing to invest in myself if I need to.”

I know I should let the subject drop, but I just don’t get it. “But you don’t need to. Damien would happily invest. He’s already told you he wants to. And the man’s a tech genius. If he says he wants to invest, it’s because he means it. Because of the INX, not because of you.”

For a moment, we just drive, his body stiff behind the wheel when every other time I’ve been in a car with him, he’s been relaxed, as if the car is just an extension of himself.

“You know what,” I say, “never mind. It’s not my business, anyway.”

“Bree…”

I shift a bit so I’m looking at him more directly. “I’m not being bitchy. I mean it. It’s not my business.”

“I’m not upset. “It’s just that I’ve made my decision, and Damien understands it.” His words are firm, and it’s clear he’s done with the subject.

“Right,” I say. “Taking that off the table.”