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Easton.
“As long as she needs,” came Asher’s gruff reply. “You check things out like I asked?”
The sound of dishes clanking came my way, bringing along with it the delicious scent of fried food, and I realized suddenly that I was ravenous. Still, I paused, not wanting to reveal my eavesdropping before I learned something good.
“Yeah,” Easton sighed. “It was a fucking mess, man. Whoever this guy is, he’s a psycho, that’s for sure.”
“No kidding,” Asher grunted, sounding super pissed. “What else?”
“I cleaned up and asked around, but sounds like no one saw shit, so that’s all we know.”
Another slam of a dish and I decided that I’d had enough. Making my way down the stairs, I entered the kitchen, meeting the stares of two men with a shaky smile.
“Uh, morning.”
“Good mornin’, Miss Betty,” Easton replied, a grin taking up most of his face as he sat on a stool at the kitchen island, watching Asher as he did something at the stove. “Or should I say afternoon,” he teased, eyeing the clock on the wall that indicated it was nearly one. “Long time, no see.”
“Hey, Easton,” I offered, then turned to Asher. “Smells good. Can I help?”
He raised an eyebrow at me skeptically.
“Can you cook?”
“Actually, no,” I supplied with a shrug.
“Then have a seat, Ricki.” Asher indicated the stools, frowning when I selected the one next to Easton, but he said nothing.
Smart man.
“I hear you went by the shop,” I asked, not even bothering to hide the fact that I’d been listening to them talk.
“Yeah, and the place looks incredible, woman,” Easton said, turning so he faced me on the stool and causing our knees to bump under the counter. Easton solved the problem by widening his legs, caging mine between his knees as he continued to talk. “How the hell did you get it all done so fast? The permits alone in this city take ages, never mind any kind of construction.”
“I have a fairy godmother,” I offered, picturing what Violet’s face would look like when I told her about this conversation. She was adamant that we were partners, and that I owed her nothing in the equation, but I knew better.
I brought very little to the table when it came toBelladonna Tattoo, and she wasn’t ever going to convince me otherwise.
“Asher tells me you’re looking to open next week?”
“Yeah,” I replied, watching as Asher plated up the eggs he’d been frying in the pan, placing them on plates next to some buttered toast before setting them down in front of us. As I spun back to the counter, I smiled up at him in thanks, but he just frowned back at me. “Halloween, actually,” I answered Easton, trying to shrug off Asher’s terrible attitude. “I’m making it a whole thing. Gonna have a costume party, offer up flash tats, have drinks. The works.”
“Sounds fun. Hey, Asher,” Easton called, drawing Asher’s attention away from the sink. “We should open up for that, too.”
“Really?” I asked, looking between them. “You’re ready for that?”
“We were gonna open on the first anyway; everything is ready to go, but the first of the month sounded like a nice, even number, so that’s what we chose.” Snagging one of the forks that Asher tossed on the counter, Easton waved it around in the air as he spoke, getting excited. “We could totally do a joint grand opening event. I could provide a selection of appetizers and finger foods, samples of the main menu, and Asher could do a special drink list, too. It would be wicked.”
It sounded perfect, but I didn’t allow myself to get my hopes up. Not when Asher stood there, scowling at me from the other side of the kitchen like I was a serious inconvenience. Picking up the toast, I took a small bite, no longer hungry but suddenly wishing I was anywhere else.
Easton kept talking between bites, listing off all the delicious things he was going to make for the grand opening—I gathered the man liked to work with meat, seeing as every item he listed contained a serious amount of animal products—but Asher ducked out of the room, disappearing down a hallway toward the back of the house. He returned a few minutes later, his arms full of what I now recognized as the sweatpants and hoodie I had worn last night. Hopping off the stool, I met Asher as he rounded the island, taking the clothes from him and heading back to the stairs. “Thank you for this,” I tossed over my shoulder as I practically sprinted back to the bedroom. “I’ll be outta your hair in a minute.” Once I was inside the bedroom, I shook out the pants, still hot from the dryer, and slid them on, jumping a couple of times when my foot got caught in the leg hole in my haste.
I was in the middle of unbuttoning the flannel shirt when the door slammed open, a pissed off Asher standing in the doorway, scowling at me for all he was worth.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Ricki?”
Chapter twenty-seven
Asher
