Page 91 of Ruthless Heir

“We got plastered as my grandfather would say—basically drunk out of our minds. Then we were robbed. Then we ended up in jail without a hope in hell of getting out. When we were eventually released we had to find jobs to earn enough to get home. Our parents were away on one of their getaways and unreachable.”

“Oh my God. That is so crazy.” I laugh.

“Josh was supposed to go with us but your dad broke his leg. Josh stayed back to look after him. You were supposed to go on a skiing trip but the two of you refused to leave your father’s side.”

Like always, when I hear people talking about things I should remember, I try to push against those barriers preventing me from accessing my memories. Nothing comes. Not even that hint of a familiar feeling people get when they recognize something. All I see and feel is emptiness. “It’s sad that I don’t remember any of that.”

“It’s okay. The ordinary person doesn’t remember everything.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s your turn, Miss Bartender.” He smirks. “See if you can beat that.”

I laugh, knock back the rest of my drink and grab a bottle of gin from the shelf. “Mine will be the best cocktail you’ve ever had in your life.”

“Is that so?” He raises his brows.

“It will. I’ve never been turned down for a bartender job.”

“Okay. Show me what you got then.”

I mix the drinks even quicker than he did. I fix him my rendition of a Boulevardier but instead of swapping out the gin for whiskey I add both. I always find that the sweetness of the bourbon balances the flavor.

I hand him his glass and he looks interested to try it. He takes a sip and the totally impressed look on his face tells me I’ve won.

“Holy shit, what the hell did you put in this to make it tastes so good?” he glares at me.

I drink mine too. “You saw me. It’s the way I did it.”

“Clearly.”

“I’ll teach you next time.” I borrow his words from earlier.

He grins and a lock of his dark hair falls over his eye when he takes another gulp. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Just say when.”

“I will.” He nods with an easy smile on his lips that makes my heart flutter. “And I agree. Youdomake the best cocktails. Looks like Harper St. John isn’t just a beautiful face.”

I was about to take another sip but he hooked me atbeautiful. “You think I’m beautiful?” If I was ever going to find out what he truly thinks of me, it’s now.

He stares back at me and my nerves twist in my stomach. I’m locked in his gaze until his eyes drop to my body, then stay there for far too long before climbing back up to meet my eyes again.

“I think any man with eyes thinks you’re beautiful HarperSt. John.”

“But… doyou?” I’m pushing the limit and crossing a line again.Againas in allowing the same madness that possessed me to throw myself at him years ago to take over my mind again.

Unlike then, my question feels like the most important one in the world.

And I want the answer my body seeks.

Asher holds my gaze, searching my eyes, knowing what I’m asking him.

Those nerves in my stomach turn to lead, growing heavier the longer I wait.

“Yes. I think you’re beautiful.” His voice is quiet and reverent but the simple words of his answer hit me in my core, stirring my need for more.

More of this feeling rippling through my body like wildfire.

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