Page 13 of The First Spark

“I’ll never understand what women see in him,” I mutter.

“You don’t? Seriously, you’re not blind,” Mina teases, nodding toward the coffee bar. “Come on, let me make you a cup.”

I glance out the window at the falling darkness. “It’s after six. I’ll be up all night.”

“We’ll do decaf then.”

Mina seems determined to fix us a hot beverage, but as I slide onto a stool at the far end of the bar, I realize it’s not due to a hankering for caffeine.

From her position behind the coffee bar, she has a clear view into Black Lotus's reception area, easily visible across our shared hallway.

And a certain tattoo artist just so happens to belounging there, his long legs casually propped up on a table as he chats with a customer.

“I should have known you had an ulterior motive behind this spur-of-the-moment coffee fix,” I remark, biting back a grin. “Front-row seat for Braden Hammond, huh?”

Mina straightens her stance and releases a noisy breath. “Not at all. I didn’t know he was sitting there. Total coincidence.”

Seems I’m not the only one spouting falsehoods tonight.

“Uh-huh.”

When Mina catches my quirked brow, she turns away, her face flushing as she hurriedly busies herself with frothing the milk. “Fine. Braden Hammond is hot, okay? Sue me.”

I help myself to a chocolate chip cookie from the case. “Knew it. Falling for the enemy. A traitor in my midst.”

“He stopped in here this morning.” She holds up her hands as if warding off any further argument from me. “I know you hate his brother, but Braden is really sweet.”

“Bradenisnice.” With a shrug, I turn my attention to the laminated menu, flicking at one corner. “And if Asher were more like his brother, he and I wouldn’t have any issues. But he’s not, and we do.”

“You sure hate him.”

“For your information, I don’thateAsher. The man isn’t worth that level of energy.”

But Mina knows me too well to believe that rigmarole. “Right. That’s why you toss death stares at him every time he dares to pass our window.”

The truth? I can’t stand Asher Hammond. He’s an egotistical oaf, a typical alpha male who will never admit that he or his tatted-up buddies couldeverbe in the wrong.

Still, what’s the point of discussing his arrogant ways? It’s not like the man is capable of change. Hell, he isn’t even capable of an apology.

And because he doesn’t deem me worthy of an apology, I hardly feel the need to heap on gratitude for his ‘heroic’ efforts earlier today.

I’ll admit that I’m glad Ash saved my terrified ass from the broken ladder. It would have been a nasty fall, and instead of drinking coffee, I’d be at the hospital getting X-rays of my skull.

And for those few moments in his arms, I felt safe. Safer than I’d ever known possible, like the entire world could have ended and somehow, he would have shielded me from the blow.

Obviously, a ridiculous notion concocted by my overly romanticized brain, considering Asher Hammond would no doubt take great pleasure in pitching my ass off any of the pine covered peaks surrounding Sparkwood.

But the worst part was the way his demeanor changed on a dime when Lydia spoke. The softness in his voice and eyes disappeared, replaced by his ever present—and always annoying—smirk. A reminder that he’s God’s gift to women and I’m a damn fool if I don’t fall in line with that mentality.

Then, in true Asher Hammond fashion, he cut me down to size.

I hate how he makes me feel that level of animosity. Hate that he makes me feel anything at all.

Still, I’m happy he was in the store when the ladder rung cracked, although I’d rather toss my ass to the ground repeatedly than admit that fact aloud.

I pull off my glasses, cleaning the lens with my shirthem as I fight to maintain a neutral expression. “Let’s put it this way. Despite the events of today, he’s still not on my Christmas card list, although I might cave and buy him a lump of coal.”

Mina busies herself making coffee, but judging by the side-eye she shoots at me, she’s far from done with this conversation. She’s desperate to understand the root of the animosity between the owner of Black Lotus and me, but despite her repeated digging, I’ve never said a word.

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