Page 78 of Wish You Were Mine

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SUMMER

“Ash,” I urged, needing to know whatever was wrong.

He muttered a string of curse words, too jumbled to make any sense.

“Whoa, slow down. What’s the matter?”

“Someone broke my window,” he panted.

“Shit.” This had to be related to the fight earlier. I stood. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“No,” he barked. “Don’t come. I don’t know if whoever did this is still around.”

I stood from the sofa, ignoring him. “That only makes it more important for you not to be alone.”

“Summer, seriously. It might not be safe. Stay home.”

I slipped a jacket on. “Call Nate.”

“Okay.” He hesitated. “We can deal with it. No need for you to be here.”

I hung up. Like hell was I leaving him to handle this on his own.

I grabbed my keys and my purse and rushed out the front door, sparing a moment to lock it behind me. The Ute was already unlocked—I needed to stop leaving it that way considering what had happened with both Kennedy and Grace.

I drove to Asher’s house and parked on the streetside. He was standing at the end of the path closest to the street, his arms wrapped around himself. I threw my door open, hurried over and hugged him. He stiffened for a second, as if unsure how to react, but then pulled me more tightly into the embrace, burying his face in my hair and breathing me in.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he whispered.

“You couldn’t have stopped me.” His shirt was damp, and he smelled of clean, masculine sweat. I pulled back slightly. “Where have you been?”

He glanced to the side. “Out cycling.”

“In the dark?” Didn’t he have any self-preservation instincts? Or maybe he thought he was too big and tough to worry? Never mind that a strong man could hurt himself alone on a mountain just as easily as a petite woman could.

“I had my lights on,” he said. “It was fine.”

He released me and stepped back. I regretted asking. He had enough on his mind without me lecturing him on bike safety.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to go inside until the police are here. What if whoever broke the window used it to get in and they’re still there?”

I shuddered. God, I hoped not.

The breeze stirred my hair, and I suddenly wished I’d thought to grab a hat as well as my jacket before I left. Fortunately, before I could stew in my discomfort, two cars pulled up opposite us.

I peered through the darkness, making out Officer Patton’s face as he exited the driver’s side of one of the vehicles. The officer with him wasn’t one I recognized. An out-of-towner, perhaps. Nate parked behind him, in his personal vehicle. He got out, pulled on a woolen hat—smart man—and strode toward us.

“Thanks for coming,” Asher said, addressing all three of them.

“It’s our job,” Patton reminded him. Not that Asher seemed to hear him. He was staring down the path at the house.

“Show us the damage,” Nate ordered, pausing to frown at me, obviously confused about my presence. “What are you doing here?”

“I called Asher to be nosy about the fight earlier today and I was on the phone with him when he saw the window.” Mostly true. Or near enough, at least.

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