Page 44 of Chasing Sparks

“I see now why you wanted to burn it.”

“I’m glad I didn’t, although it was mighty tempting at the time.” Grabbing the wine, I top off my glass. “Can we switch to a lighter topic of conversation?”

Ash nods, refusing my offer of more wine. “What’s that big, sealed box by your record player? The one with the stickers all over it.”

A rush of color climbs my cheeks, and I shake my head, biting back a smile. “Next question.”

“Is it that embarrassing?”

“Yes.”

“Now youhaveto tell me.” He leans over, squeezing my knee. “Is it a box of sex toys or something?”

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth with my hand. “Absolutely not. If it were, if sure as hell wouldn’t still be sealed.”

A smirk dances across his face. Clearly, he doesn’t believe me.

“What? It’s not sex toys,” I insist.

“Damn. That’s disappointing, because those are mighty fun to play with.”

“You would know,” I volley back.

Ash stands and drops a kiss on my forehead before carrying his plate to the sink. “Apparently so would you, considering you have a box of the damn things.”

“It’s a wish box.”

Ash narrows his gaze at me. “What the hell is that?”

“Items I’ve gathered over the years for my wedding, my first baby, my first home. That sort of thing.”

Ash nods, marinating on my words. “Kind of like a scrapbook.”

“Sort of, but for memories that haven’t happened yet.”

“So, no vibrators in there?” Ash asks with a wink.

I chuckle. “With the right man, I won’t need a damn vibrator.”

“I’ll volunteer as tribute,” Ash says, realizing in the same moment I do the weight of his words. “Just saying, I’ve been told by a certain someone that I’m the Pussy Whisperer.”

“You love that nickname, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Just like that, his humor softens the edges of our earlier conversation.

Although, he does seem eager to move this dinner along.

He’s cleared half the table and glanced at his phone three times in the last ten minutes.

A girl can take a hint.

I point toward the door. “You can head out. No need to wait for me to finish. I like to take my time with my wine.”

Ash rests his forearm on the table, shooting me a stern look. “Where do you think I have to go?”

“A date, I presume.”

---