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When I can’t feel my hand, I start to protest. Ash grabs the bag of peas, tosses them aside carelessly, and starts to work at the ring again. He twists, tugs, and tugs some more. He also rubs it back and forth before twisting it again, which still sounds just wrong. However, it’s still a big no-go.
“Hey, I don’t mean to be a huge, uh, pain here, but I’m going to miss my flight if I don’t leave now,” Meryl announces as Ash steps back.
He lets out a sigh that says he’s quite frustrated and annoyed. His big, broad shoulders heave up and down, and his paint-stained t-shirt tightens along his midsection. My gaze lowers to check out Ash’s ass, and maybe I should get a career as a psychic because I called him Ash Asswell, at least to myself, long before I ever took notice of his behind, and just…wow! It’s definitely an ass, and it’s definitely well. My nipples grow so stiff and tight that they’re at risk of cutting glass, let alone fabric. To get a hold of myself, I grip the counter harder with the hand that isn’t all covered in oil and soapy goo.
“That’s alright,” Ash says, clearly moderating his tone to only let out what he wants us to hear. None of his frustration seeps through. “I’ll call you and give you an update later.”
“Okay. Good luck.” As she heads out of the kitchen, Meryl gives me a sympathetic look that wins her major nice points in my book.
When we’re alone, Ash faces me, and his nice, bronzed complexion starts to turn into a not-so-nice scarlet. I can hear him grinding his teeth, and it’s nasty. It’s like he’s eating gritty sand. Or kitty litter. Ha! It would serve him right to get a few cat biscuits to munch with it.
“Please stop that. It’s not going to help get this freaking cursed ring off my finger.”
“This is your fault.” Ash stabs a finger at me. His crazy blue eyes get even bluer. And a little crazier.
“My fault?” I gasp. “How is this my fault? It was begging me to put it on! There were drums in my head. Freaking. Drums. It was calling to me, screaming at me, and it was so weird. It was like there was someone else in my body that made me do it.”
Those sky blues of Ash’s go skyward as he rolls them. “Seriously? Don’t start with that now. If you’re faking this, you’re doing an excellent job, but you don’t have to sell it anymore. Whatever you want, just name your price, and it’s yours.”
My whole body goes cold, and it feels like all the blood has drained out of me and disappeared, leaving me a shriveled-up prune of a mess. “Uh, what do you mean by name your price? You think… you think I’m faking this to blackmail you?” If only you knew… I ignore the sinister sound of my inner voice and instead focus on the righteous indignation working its way up from my toes to my throat. “You’ve tried to pull the ring off. It doesn’t look tight, but it won’t budge. Am I faking that? Maybe you’re the one faking it. If that’s the case, maybe you should name your price.”
Ash’s nostrils flare, and a storm gathers in his eyes. I kind of like it, despite myself. Ash rubs his hands on his faded, paint-stained jeans, and when I lower my gaze, I realize he’s bare feet. How could I have missed that? The sight of his bare toes is strangely alluring.
What the actual hell is going on? This must be the curse. Even if it’s not, I’m blaming it anyway.
“Until the ring comes off, you are staying here.”
“Staying here?” I gasp. “You can’t hold me a prisoner!”
“You’re not a prisoner. But the ring is worth a lot of money, and if you walk out of here, I’m calling the cops. If you want to end up at the cop shop and have them try to remove it, just go ahead. Go right on out. But don’t test me on it because I will call them.”
“I think calling a jeweler or a paramedic would make more sense.”
At my words, Ash’s face brightens. “That’s a great idea. I’ll call a jeweler. They have tools to cut it off.”
“No!” I yelp so hard that we both jump. “I…what if…what if cutting into the ring releases more curses? Something terrible? I don’t think that’s a good idea. Plus, I heard it really hurts and can cause damage to the skin and finger and hand.”
Ash actually seems to soften, which shocks me. I didn’t realize any of the Cromwellian buttholes were truly capable of human emotion. “Fine. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning. If you can’t get it off by then, I’m calling a jeweler. You can stay in the spare room upstairs, and since you clean here, you probably know where it is.”
