Miller's Time (Southern Charmers 2)

Now that the pot filler is in place, tomorrow it’s all hands on deck to finish the kitchen. Ashlyn and I have spent countless hours after the crews leave, going through top to bottom. Andi emailed Ashlyn our regular punch-list and gave her a new mission. Outside of minor items, things passed her inspection. Which puts us a few days ahead of schedule. Her bottom floor will be completed this weekend. And with a few more installations upstairs, the second floor will be ready next week.

Which means I can give her our first Christmas in her house.

Still, something doesn’t feel right.

“Fuck it.” I shove my laptop in its case and stuff the folders on the side. Sitting in the office all day is making me crazy.

“I’m running by a few sites this afternoon. You can catch me on my cell.” I stop by Andi’s office.

“Why don’t you tell your assistant?” Her eyes stay on her computer as she replies sarcastically. “Oh yeah, because you haven’t hired one in a year.”

“Maybe next quarter.”

“Heard that before.” She twists her neck to face me, her grin openly suspicious. “Since you’re heading out, there are some issues that need addressing. I’ll email the list to you, and it will save me some time.”

“Now who needs an assistant?”

“Smartass, once you clear up some of my crews this week, I’ll have it all covered.”

“Call me if you need me.”

“Tell Ashlyn I said hello!”

When I get to my truck, the email from Andi comes through and I scowl at the list. No wonder she was grinning. Save her time my ass; this shit would take her all day.

I shoot her a text- Are you pawning off your work for the rest of the year?

Andi- Suck it up, you’re slacking. Small issues at each site. You can handle it. These guys respond well to seeing the boss man.

Slacking? I drive out of the parking lot, turning toward the farthest job site in order to make my way back to Ashlyn.

By the third stop, I decide I’m done for the day. Andi was right. These are small issues, and the crews responded well to seeing me, but it’s getting late and I have a surprise for Ashlyn.

My call to her goes straight to voicemail and that odd feeling returns, settling low in my gut. The closer I get to her house, my uneasiness grows. When I turn the corner, the first thing I spot is a sleek, shiny, black Jaguar parked next to her car. Not a work truck in sight.

Rental plates on the Jag.

I slam to a stop, my adrenaline spiking as I leap up the steps and punch the new code into the door. My eyes fly everywhere around the empty space.

“Ashlyn!” I roar, racing upstairs to find more emptiness and bound back down. “Ashlyn!” I yell again, rounding the hallway to her room.

Nothing.

That leaves only one option. I speed through to the back porch and stop dead. My vision goes blurry, then goes into a red haze at the man standing in the middle of the backyard, his hands in Ashlyn’s hair, and his mouth locked on hers.

Brock Donner.

My heart hammers in my chest as possessive fury burns through my system. In less than a second, I’m across the porch, and kicking the door off its hinges at the same time Ashlyn shoves him off her.

“You asshole!” she seethes.

“Now, now—” He doesn’t finish as my fist connects with his jaw with a loud crack and he’s stumbling back.

“Get away from her, you motherfucker!” I rear back, ready to pound him until a soft hand clutches my elbow.

“Stop, please stop.”

“What the fuck?”

Brock tilts his head, sizing me up with an evil smirk. “Who do we have here?”

Ashlyn’s hand squeezes before it drops and she moves to stand in between us. Her expression is unnatural, her green eyes blank as they slide side to side. The blood searing in my veins goes to ice when she turns her back to me.

“He’s my contractor.” Her reply is curse and bitter.

“He better have a good lawyer when I slap his ass for assault.”

“That won’t be necessary. He’s done after today.”

“What the fuck?” I hiss again.

He arches back and roars, blood dribbling from his busted lip. The sound hangs in the air, fueling my already fevered fury.

“Oh, Ashlyn, I think we all know he’s not only your contractor. Did you get so hard up you spread your legs for the hired help?”

I lunge forward, ready to tear him apart, only her body stops me. She flings her face to mine and all recognition is gone. In the wake of her brightness is a cold and hostile woman. She stands tall, defiance flaring in her glare before she faces him again.

“I’ll be where I need to be.”

Whatever else she says is drowned out by the spark shining like a beam on her left ring finger. A large diamond glistens in the porch lights. My heart speeds and lungs scald at the unmistakable meaning of the ring.