Page 5 of Booked Solid

“Have any suggestions?”

“Sweetville is as awesome as the name sounds.” Pulling into an empty parking lot to get out of the flow of traffic, I shift to see her, wondering if she’s messing with me. I mean, I’d known the state where she was going as it was necessary information. I hadn’t asked the city yet as there was plenty of time to find that out. “What?

“Did I ever tell you my friend’s name?”

“No.”

“Sweetville a small town?”

“Yes, but it’s growing.”

“The kind where everybody knows your name?” She grins, humming the theme to Cheers, that old show that’s the very definition of my question. I take that as a yes, then decide to blurt it out and witness her reaction. “Kellan Pace.”

**Ashton**

“I need to play the lottery,” I state with a laugh after confirming I know him.

“Huh?”

“With odds like this, I might just win.” What I’m saying probably makes no sense to Wyatt, but then again, neither does the fact that fate clearly wanted us to meet one way or another. Why haven’t we met before this then? “How come you weren’t at their wedding?” My tone is a bit accusatory, I know, yet I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we had met then. Where would we be now as a couple? Would webea couple?

“I was overseas,” Wyatt says, making me feel guilty.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures me. “Legitimate question. I didn’t get the invitation until after I returned to base following my deployment, and by then, it was too late. I would’ve been there otherwise. Could have met you then,” he adds, our thoughts clearly on the same missed opportunity.

“How do you two know each other?”

“He was on the force where my grandparents lived. There was a break in at their neighbor’s house. I was home on leave. We got to talking, him wanting to know if I’d noticed anything, me wanting to know if my family was safe. I asked him to keep me updated and he did. Our friendship followed from there.”

“Enough to have him storing your bike and things. Did they find the jerk?”

“They did. Local guy looking for stuff to hock for a fix.”

“How are your grandparents?”

I hate the sadness that seems to surround him following my inquiry, telling me the answer to that question won’t be as happy. “They’re both gone.” I won’t seek more information than that, but I’ll listen if he wants to give it freely. Which, apparently, he does. “My grandpa had a fatal heart attack seven years ago. My grandma,” a sigh leaves him, “hers broke after that and she was gone within twenty-four hours.”

I don’t know tears are falling until he reaches over and swipes his finger across my left cheek, then my right. “Are you crying for me?” He asks incredulously.

“Has no one ever done that?”

“Not in a very long time.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing my mouth to his in silent sympathy. At least, that was my intention. Once we touch in that manner, comfort is the last thing I can think of. Instead, my senses are swamped by passion, affection, and a yearning to explore both.

“Ashton,” he groans as his teeth nip my bottom lip and give it a tug. With the slightest of urgings from him, I move to straddle his lap, thankful he releases the seat farther back, giving us both more room. Which I eagerly make use of as his hands cup my breasts, my back arching and still bumping into the steering wheel. When I accidentally hit the horn, we each jerk in surprise at the interruption, though neither of us immediately stop. We choose to do so slowly, savoring this connection, this new path in our relationship.

“That was…”

“Inevitable,” he fills in the blank, the word now having a whole new meaning, a happier one, than his earlier use of it. Not what where I was headed, but yeah, it was.

Chapter Four

Wyatt

October 19th…

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