“She went right through, mijo.” Their long-time housekeeper paused as she scooped a few leftover appetizers into a storage container and spoke over her shoulder while looking out the kitchen window. “Prisa. She’s already in her car.”
Crap.
By the time he dodged a couple of servers and dashed out the back service door to the driveway, Honor’s vehicle was pulling out onto the street. He swung back toward the house with a soft growl of frustration, only to spot Roxanna in her Jeep. She sat with her head back against the seat, eyes closed, shoulders slumped.
Asher walked over and bent down to rap on the passenger side window. She jerked in surprise, big brown eyes wide when her gaze met his. Instant remorse filled her expression, and she unlocked the doors.
“I’m so sorry,” she began as he slid inside.
“She’s jinxing cakes?” he asked with a bit of accusation.
Rox looked like she was going to argue, but instead slumped back in her seat. “So maybe I don’t know for sure she’s jinxing them, but I panicked when I saw your mom about to eat some.”
“Yeah. Clearly.”
“She doesn’t believe in love,” she stated with a resurgence of defiance. “That I guarantee you. I felt it when I shook her hand.”
His chest tightened at the idea that could be true, but he said, “That’s a lot different than jinxing couples with her cakes.”
“Well, she could be. I couldn’t take that chance with your parents.”
“I wish you would’ve.” He ran his thumb along the crease in his dress pants before lifting his gaze to hers once more. “Especially tonight.”
“Whoops. Sorry. Did I mess up your chance to screw the baker?”
“That’s not it at all.” Guilt twinged at her sarcasm, because it was a little. Not the screwing part—he wasn’t Merit—but the opportunity to get to know her had been lost.
“Bullshit. Your aura’s been simmering all night. It flares bright red whenever you’re within five feet of her.”
Sometimes he really hated that she could read him so well. It made it hard to get her to see beyond the point she was trying to make.
“This was a big night for my parents, Rox. You know that.”
Resentment glittered in her eyes as she tilted her head. “So I’m just supposed to pretend I don’t know these things? Keep quiet and be normal?” Hurt filled her voice. “Now you sound like your jackass brother.”
Damn it. Loyal had really gotten to her. She knew her being different was part of what he loved about her. “You’re putting words in my mouth. That’s not at all what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“No.” He took a breath to keep his tone level. “It’s just, there’s a time and place for what you do. My parents’ anniversary party and Dad’s Senate announcement is not it.”
“Keep it in my shop,” she bit out. “Got it, Loyal.”
Asher consciously unclenched his jaw. “Rox—”
“No, it’s fine.” She faced forward, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while turning the key with her other. “You can get out now.”
He recognized that stubborn tone. It wouldn’t matter what he said, her mind was made up. He was the bad guy for now. Someone to take the brunt of her anger since the person she really wanted to tear into wasn’t sitting in his place.
“Sometimes Loyal can be a jackass,” he agreed quietly. “And I’m not excusing what he said, but you know where it came from.”
She reached to jab the button for the radio and a popular pop station blared through the speakers.
He raised his voice to be heard over the music, hand fisted on his thigh. “You know his history, Rox. It wasn’t personal.”
“He called me a whack-job. It doesn’t get more personal than that.” Both hands on the wheel now, she stared straight ahead, her chin set at a mutinous angle as tears glittered in her eyes. “Get out.”
Asher gave a couple of light, agitated fist taps on the door, then did as she demanded. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.