Page 19 of Chasing Sparks

He gazes up at me with a grin before interlacing our fingers and pulling me down to rest against his chest.

“See? How relaxed are you now?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair.

“Hmm.”

My truth isn’t black and white. My body might be sated, but the bad thoughts linger in the back of my brain, eager to play on my anxieties.

How many women has he used the same lines on, knowing they would fall for them, just as I did—hook, line, and sinker?

That’s the trouble with men like Asher Hammond. He’s a bad boy with a face of an angel, and every woman dreams of being the one who convinces him to stay.

To settle down.

To change.

It happens, right? All the great romances throughout history can’t be bullshit. There must be some shred of truth in there somewhere.

But I’m terrified to be another in the long line of women who fall for Asher Hammond despite his repeated declarations he has zero intention of returning the favor.

“Hey, earth to Ori. Where did you go?”

I trace lazy lines along his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “Just thinking.”

Ash sighs, resting a hand behind his head. “Stop it.”

“Stop thinking? I’m not sure that’s possible.”

He tangles his fingers in my hair, gently forcing me to meet his gaze. “Stop overthinking and analyzing every scenario. I know you’re wondering if I ever plan on taking you out, but I promise I’m not looking for an escape route. Things came up—important things forBlackLotusand the speakeasy.”

He’s not lying—the man is juggling several ventures simultaneously, and somehow, he makes it look effortless. Much like everything else in his world.

Since I signed the lease agreement for the basement renovation, Ash has moved full steam ahead on fulfilling his latest dream—a private speakeasy beneath our businesses.

I’m thrilled for him, although a pang of sadness twists in my chest as I glance around the dimly lit basement, realizing that soon our secret hookup spot will transform into a glitzy hotspot.

No doubt it will be fabulous and sexy as hell, just like everything Ash touches.

No doubt it will also mean even less time together. We’ll be drifting into negative numbers soon.

Not that I have any claim to this man. Hell, we haven’t even managed a first date and yet here I am, pining for something that never was in the first place.

Get it together, Ori.

I seize on his mention of the speakeasy, redirecting the conversation to benign topics. Anything to pull the focus away from my overactive thoughts about this small-town tattooed legend.

“When do you break ground down here?”

“In a couple of weeks. The foreman figures it will take about two months to get her up and running.”

I prop myself on my elbow, shocked by his words. “That quickly? Impressive. Can I borrow your guys once you’re done with them?”

“You’re opening a bar, too?” Ash asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“Not hardly. I have my hands full with that house I bought, remember? I need to start renovations before she decays into the ground, but I’ve got zero experience in home repair. In hindsight, the purchase was a terrible idea.”

Ash shakes his head, running his hand along his bearded jaw. “Not terrible at all. That house has good bones, Ori. All she needs is a little love.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” I say the words aloud, realizing one second too late how it must sound to a man like Ash. Time to backpedal into safer territory. “Love and power tools I don’t own. Seriously, will you hook me up with your contractors once they’re finished?”

---