Page 68 of Chasing Sparks

Sucking in a deep breath, I slip on my emotional armor before pivoting to meet Ash’s golden-green gaze.

“There’s only one seat available. Where will your lady friend sit? Oh wait, I guess she can straddle your lap. That’ll do.”

Friendly and accommodating, I am not.

But it’s more than my discovery last night that has my temper flaring. It was Ash’s tantrum earlier when I dared to eat lunch with another man.

A man I’ve hired to fix my house.

Unless Casey was working on Ash’s plumbing last night, this is not the same situation.

Of course, she likelydidwork on his plumbing. Ugh.

Ash ignores my heated barb as he slides into the chair and flags the bartender. “Whiskey, neat.”

Then he returns his gaze to me, and I catch the thinly veiled amusement dancing in his eyes.

That’s enough to send my temper careening into the red.

So glad the man finds this situation amusing.

“What’s so funny?” I demand, sipping my whiskey.

“You.” He clinks his glass against mine, a smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Me. The last twenty-four hours. We need to talk.”

“Not now, we don’t. I’m busy.”

Ash huffs out a sigh, biting back a chuckle. If he doesn’t stop laughing at my expense, I’ll bite something on him—and trust me, he won’t be laughing then.

“Busy doing what?” he asks, leaning closer. “Drinking at this shit hole?”

“It’s not a shit hole,” I lie, inching back from him.

“We both know that’s not true.”

I glance around the dimly lit interior at the patrons hunched over the bar, nursing their drinks. Most wear hats pulled low over their eyes, as if they too don’t want to be seen here.

I shrug and down another swallow of my drink. “Fine, it’s a crappy place, but it serves its purpose.”

“Which is what?” Ash presses.

“I’m having a drink and watching the hockey game.”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s playing?” Ash grasps my chin, turning my gaze from the screen.

Damn him for knowing me too well.

I try to jerk my chin away, but he holds me fast. “A … red team and a blue team?”

Ash laughs and swoops in to steal a kiss. “The Dr. Seuss league is on the ice tonight, I see.”

With a defiant glare, I wrest free of his embrace and wag my finger under his nose. “No, you’re not doing that anymore.”

“Doing what? Kissing you? I sure as hell am, actually.” Ash drags his hand along my spine, counteracting any attempt I make to move away. “Let’s get out of here. I need some time with my girl.”

I scoff into my whiskey glass, trying not to fall prey to his ministrations. Again. “You mean your girl for the evening? Sorry, Ash, I’ve relinquished my spot on your rotation, although I’m sure you’ll fill it soon enough.”

The angrier I get, the more amused he becomes, and that alone is enough to send my temper skyrocketing.

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