Page 2 of Booked Solid

**Ashton**

“Sis, don’t you dare,” Corbin warns me.

“What are you proposing?” I ask Wyatt, ignoring my twin.

“Marriage,” he states, causing Corbin to lose what was left of his mind.

“Who needs to fly when you just swept me off my feet,” I tease.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I admit, realizing I’m living my very own meet-cute. Oh my gosh, am I the heroine? A quick darting glance in all directions doesn’t show any impending danger, so I don’t feel like this is a too stupid to live moment. Thankfully. “But I am curious what other options you might offer.”

“That’s it,” he explains. “I don’t care for any other choices.” I stare at him expectantly and he sighs. “However, I firmly believe you should still have the option of them.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Or a murderer luring you into his trap,” Corbin mutters.

“Thank you for your concern,” I snark.

“What if he’s right?” Wyatt asks.

“Is he?”

“Not particularly,” he shrugs.

Somehow his answer that’s not quite one reassures me. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll drive you to wherever you need to go.” He offers it so easily that I don’t doubt he means it.

“You’d do that, for a stranger?”

“What? We’re friends, Ashton.” He sounds wounded I might not think so.

“We are, Wyatt?”

“For now,” he vows with a wink. “I’m open to negotiations for more.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.”

“Are you flirting with him?” Corbin asks incredulously. His next words are a bit muted, letting me know he’s now speaking to his wife, Molly. “I think my sister has gone cuckoo. She’sflirting.” He does not get the response he expected. The squeal, though almost entirely across the country, comes through loud and clear.

“She is? It’s about dang time. Is he dreamy?”

“How would I know and why do you care?” Corbin now sounds bothered for an entirely different reason.

Which brings me great joy to ask him relay to her, “Tall,” Wyatt stands straighter, “handsome,” he puffs out his chest, “and tatted.” He flexes the arms the ink is so lovingly wrapped around, showing impressive muscles. This man could easily overpower me should he choose, a thought that turns me on instead of scaring me as it should. And the look he sends me lets me know he’d eagerly oblige. Probably over and over and over again. Okay, so maybe a bit of TSTL resides within me.

“Ashton?” Wyatt inquires, glancing at me intently. Or perhaps with intent. Those aren’t the same thing, right?

I bite my lip at the visions my imagination supplies, wishing I could capture them to stare at later. Perhaps I can then use them as my defense in making such an impulsive decision. “I have one condition,” I tell Wyatt.

“Anything.”

“I control the tunes.”

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