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Asia walked to the closet and thumbed through the dresses until she landed on one she’d remembered seeing. It was a floral prairie-style dress with buttons down the front from collar to hem. It felt so out of place next to all the other clothing that she couldn’t help but wonder how it came to be in this closet of designer labels.
She buttoned it past where even the most modest of women would have stopped until every button was buttoned, even the one at the collar. Then she slid a cardigan on top, as if she needed anymore pieces to down play her curves.
***
Asia smelled the spaghetti and garlic bread wafting up as she descended the stairs. She entered the dining room, and the first man to glance up from the dinner table was Stan. Having just taken a gulp of water, his laughter caused it to spew across the table onto Big Al.
“What the hell, man?” Big Al grumbled, grabbing a wad of napkins from an ornate pewter holder.
“My bad.” Stan’s eyes drifted to Dusty, who didn’t miss the cue, and turned to see her walking to the table in this outfit.
He looked both amused and annoyed by it, but he didn’t comment and returned his attention to forking mounds of noodles dripping in pasta sauce onto his plate.
“Are you feeling a bit chilled?” Chris asked. “I can adjust the air conditioning.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Asia reached for the bread basket at the same moment as Dusty, then pulled back as if she’d been burned.
Chris’s gaze moved between Dusty and Asia, and the corner of his mouth tugged up. “Oh, I see how it is.” Then went back to his plate. “You boys packed and ready?” he asked around a mouthful.
“Ready to roll.” Big Al nodded, then chuckled. “Course now you boys gotta cook for yourselves.”
“Damn. You better hurry back, Al, otherwise I’m going to starve. Can’t get fast food and no Chef Big Al? I’m gonna waste away,” Stan muttered.
The men ribbed each other and bantered until it was time to retire to bed.
Asia stood and cleared the dishes. When she finished, she called goodnight to the men and made her way down the hall.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned to see Dusty approaching.
“So what’s this getup about?” He lifted his chin to her clothes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stepped through the doorway.
Dusty leaned his shoulder against the frame with his arms crossed. “I’m talking about why you suddenly went from wearing a bikini that looks like every guy's wet dream to dressing like you’re joining a convent?”
“I’m just removing the temptation.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’m in no mood to be dicked around by you.”
“You seemed very much in the mood a few hours ago.” He eyed her as she moved across the room to close the balcony doors, her face blushing at his words.
“Yes, well, that won’t happen again.” She bit her lip like she didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
Dusty pushed off the frame. “All right then, I’ll leave you alone. But just so you know, you could dress in a potato sack, and I’d still find you sexy as hell.”
With that, he turned and walked to his bedroom next door. Laying on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling, knowing he wouldn’t be getting much sleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Asia was startled awake. Had she just heard yelling? Had Nico’s men found her? The panic flooded her body, and she seemed unable to move as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. Then she’d heard it again, but this time having been awake, she could tell it was coming from the room next door, Dusty’s room.
There were no other sounds in the house, and it didn’t sound like any kind of struggle, so she decided to investigate.
She slipped from her bed and padded quietly to the door. She opened it, peeking her head out into the dark hallway. All was quiet, except for the occasional yell from Dusty’s room.
She tiptoed to his door and knocked lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else.
