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“Is this guy best friend-enough to actually know where you are?”
“Yes, he’s very supportive. You remind me of him, actually. You’re both sweetness wrapped in grumpy packaging.”
Asher looked away. “You keep calling me that. I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Why else would you give up your four days off to help me out? Especially if you’re not getting any sex out of it.”
“Is that all you’re good for?” Asher asked. “Because I don’t think that’s true.”
My cheeks heated. “No, that’s not what I meant but…okay, I guess that is what I meant. My point is you’re not getting anything in return.”
“Let me worry about that. And I have a question for you,” he said before I could protest. “How come you didn’t call me out for giving you shit about your job when mine in New York was just as bad?”
I smiled. “Not my style. I’m not a very judgmental person.”
“Except to yourself.”
“A necessary evil for the time being. My boss has required that I do some serious introspection.”
“You get in trouble?”
“I closed a multimillion-dollar deal and they want to make me partner.”
Asher laughed, shaking his head. “Sounds dire.”
“It is!” I said and gave his arm a playful shove that didn’t budge him an inch. “I don’t know if I’m ready to take on that kind of responsibility. If I accept a job like that, I should know for sure it’s what I want to do, right?”
“Probably. Sounds like you’re being awfully responsible to me.”
“Does it? Thank you! I mean, just look at the sheer volume of willpower I’m exhibiting right now with you.”
He cleared his throat, not looking at me. “We both might be better off if you stop saying stuff like that.”
“I don’t have much of a filter.”
“You don’t say?”
“What’s the point of being coy or shy? I like telling the truth and the truth is, Asher Mackey, you are every woman’s fantasy.”
He shook his head with another laugh, but his cheeks reddened slightly.
“But Jesus, I didn’t even ask if you were seeing someone,” I said. “Or…married?”
“None of the above.”
I drowned a twinge of happiness in a swig of coffee. “I would imagine it’s pretty slim pickings on an island this small. How—and who—do you date?”
“Tourists,” he said. “And I don’t know that I’d call what we dodating.”
The rough timbre of his voice and heat in his deep brown eyes sent a lick of flame down my spine.
“What if you want to settle down?”
“I don’t.”
“Not ever?”
“Do you?” he challenged.
