Page 46 of Daring You

“Mm,” is all she’ll say, but she sits primly on the seat I vacated, her pert little ass cupping the wood effortlessly.

With immediate vitriol, I want to rip that suit off her and see if she still wears lace underneath.

In order to staunch the inappropriate thought—her fucking family is here—I search blindly for my beer bottle on the kitchen island, and notice it’s empty.

“I got you, bro,” Ash says, and slides over a fresh one.

“Maybe you should own a restaurant,” I say to him, “Since you treat your patrons so nicely.”

“I just want to get you drunk enough to consider investing.”

The beer freezes halfway to my mouth. “Say what?”

“Doesn’t it make sense?” Ash asks, focusing on the steaming pot in front of him and stirring whatever’s in it.

“Not really,” I say. “Since I don’t know a parsley stick from a potato.”

“There is so much wrong with that sentence,” Locke says. “But money doesn’t have to know recipes.”

“You, too,” Ash says to him. “All of us, actually. I want all of you to invest in my new venture.”

“But…why?” East asks. “You have enough money.”

“It’s not about money, you idiots.” Ash grabs the salt shaker, spins it around like a circus monkey likely for the ladies’ benefit, and then grinds it it into his sauce.

Lily cheers from her perch in Carter’s arms, then throws her toy bunny at Ash, who catches it before it hits the fire of the gas stove.

“Nice one, booboo,” he says to her. “Give Benji some competition.”

“Wait—you have to elaborate, here,” Carter says. “Because…because Locke and I, we’re not exactly rolling in it.”

“Not yet,” I say, and Carter rolls her eyes.

But, I’m happy to see it’s more of an exasperated response and not one filled with animosity. As these months have gone by, I’m seeing her less as a gold digger and more as Locke’s soulmate, a actualization I never thought I’d come to, but there it is. I can’t lie and say her presence in his life hasn’t helped him.

“So you want us to squander his inheritance on high-risk business decisions,” Carter says.

“Excuse me,” Ash interjects. “It’s about doing something together. Being a part of something I think could be really great for all of us. No, I don’t need the money, but I’d sure as hell like the camaraderie.”

“Yeah, because only you know what the fuck you’re doing,” East says. “We’d just be along for the ride.”

“Not so,” Ash replies. “I’d loop you in on everything, all the plans, the construction, the menu. Your opinions will matter.”

“Until you trump them,” Locke mutters, then seems to second guess himself. “Those maple-bacon cupcakes gonna be on there?”

Ash splays out his arms, one holding a spoon, the other Lily’s bunny. “What the fuck have I done to any of you?”

East and Locke both jump in with their opinions and questions, and—oh yeah, what kind of restaurant it would even be—but they turn into white noise, because I can’t help but notice how Astor isn’t doing, saying, or reacting to anything going on around her.

Since I’m the closest, I ask in a low, unobtrusive voice, “You okay?”

“Like you care,” she snaps. Quietly.

“Annoyingly, I do.”

Something doesn’t seem right. Normally, Astor’s got her back ramrod straight and is willing to spar with any male specimen that dares to stare at her legs. But right now she’s looking at the marble countertop like it contains a roadmap to where she’d rather be.

“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” I say. “Especially when a business contract is involved. I’d think you’d be all over this. You know, stating terms. Demanding clauses. Shit like that.”

---