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I was gonna be damn sure to make time from now on.
“Just so we’re clear, Betty,” I said when we finally parted, my voice pitched low. “Even if it’s always a surprise, I happen to really like what comes outta your mouth.”
Chapter twenty
Ricki
ThedeckoftheGeorge Washington bridge hummed under the truck tires as Asher drove us back into the city. It was well after midnight, so the traffic was light—well, it was what passed for light on a bridge heading into Manhattan—and we both enjoyed the surprisingly comfortable quiet. The cab of the truck was filled with the low notes of whatever soft song was playing on the radio as I watched the New York City skyline get closer and closer.
Tearing my gaze away from the cityscape across the river, I glanced to my left, taking in Asher’s profile as he drove, the lights from the bridge flashing in a quick pattern against his strong nose and high cheekbones, giving him a much harsher appearance than I was used to. He had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on my thigh, his thumb rubbing circles against the soft cotton of the sweatpants I wore. I’d insisted on changing after we left the hayloft, not wanting to sit at a table with his family members with my torn tights and soaked panties. Asher had disappeared into his childhood bedroom—which I wanted to catch a glimpse of but never actually managed—and returned with a pair of worn grey sweat pants, small enough that they only had to be rolled twice at the waist before I was able to keep them up, and an over-sized hoodie with the wordsKutztown High Schoolemblazoned across the chest to replace the one I had previously been wearing which was now full of scratchy pieces of hay.
I wasn’t ready to admit how the sight of myself in his clothes was making me feel.
When I’d exited the small bathroom and made my way back to the kitchen, Bretton had given me a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow, but thankfully let the matter drop, allowing conversation to flow to how Asher and I had met, and all about our respective businesses. It was nice, the easy way their family interacted so different from anything I could ever remember experiencing with my own family. There were no verbal barbs being thrown, no thinly veiled insults meant to throw you off your game and make you vulnerable.
No, the insults that passed between the Dunn siblings were blatant and hilarious, the kind you share with your best friend to indicate just how much you actually loved each other.
I was jealous as fuck.
“You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about so hard over there, Betty?” Asher asked, not taking his eyes off the road. There was a very short amount of time left in this little impromptu adventure he’d taken me on, and I was finding myself not wanting the day to end. Spending time with Asher today had been the most fun I’d had in a really long time.
I wasn’t about to tell him that, though.
“I was just wondering where you live.” I was deflecting, and I was sure he knew it, but Asher didn’t call me on my bullshit, which I appreciated. “Your stalker tendencies have you knowing all about me, you creep,” I teased, finding that now that I’d voiced the question, I was honestly curious. “But I don’t know anything about you except for the fact that you grew up on a pretty dope whiskey farm.”
Asher chuckled, his fingers tightening around my thigh in a way that made me shiver. “You know that farming whiskey isn’t actually a thing, right? We grow barley, then distill it into whiskey.”
“Exactly, it’s a whiskey farm.” Reaching out, I rested the fingers of one hand on his forearm, lightly tracing the veins that bulged all sexy-like under his tanned skin and imagining what a geometric sleeve would look like there. “I think you guys should seriously consider rebranding.”
“You think so, hey?”
“Yeah, I’ll hook you up with my guy and he’ll make you some cool new merch. Oh!” I sat up straight, suddenly excited. “That reminds me. Gordie should have installed my window decal today. I can’t wait to see it. Actually,” I said, considering. “I can’t wait for Phil and Ernest to see it. Those old codgers better keep their loitering behinds away from my window or I’ll be telling their wives on them.”
Asher glanced at me, his expression hard to read in the dim light of the truck cab.
“How long have you lived in the neighborhood?”
“Glendale?” I asked, suddenly wary; I didn’t like talking about my lifebefore. “A few years now. Why?”
“It’s just that you seem to know everyone, or they all know you at least.”
“Asher Dunn,” I said, chuckling. “Have you been asking about me? How? You’ve been gone for over a month.”
“I’ve been around enough, and I may have mentioned you a time or two. Just in passing, of course.”
“Of course,” I acknowledged lightly. “And what did you learn?”
Turning my way, Asher gazed at me with curiosity in his dark eyes, the intensity of his stare making me feel exposed in a way I wasn’t used to...but didn’t entirely dislike.
“I learned that there’s a whole lot more to you than meets the eye, Betty.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence, each of us seemingly content to watch the city go by. New York truly was the city that never sleeps, but as we moved through The Bronx and into Queens, there was a certain kind of tranquility that could be felt, a hush that fell across this part of the city that I always appreciated.
Like the busiest city in the world had been put on pause, just for a few moments, to let us all catch our breath.
And it was a breath I really fuckin’ needed.
Asher was overwhelming in more ways than one. There was something about him that I was drawn to, something I couldn’t seem to turn away from. I appreciated that he challenged me, but not in a way that was meant to keep me down. Asher Dunn wanted to see me at my best, and he was happy to do what it took to get me there. I loved the way he took my sass, seemed to revel in my salty attitude, and never once tried to put me in my place.
