Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

“Dinner,” she said and flashed a smile that was almost like the one she’d greeted me with on our first meeting, only less uptight and disdainful. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Always,” I answered honestly. “What are we having and more importantly, what brought this on?”

“The urge to cook? No idea.”

Bonnie laughed, so full of life and laughter that I had to do a double take. She was still too thin and too pale, her jeans barely clinging to her ass and thighs. The lightweight pink tee hung off one shoulder but not in the sexy alluring way, just proof that she’d lost too much weight too quickly.

“I rarely cook, but after a long and emotional talk with Sadie, I had to do something.”

That was a lot to think about, but Bonnie’s hazel gaze looked in every direction but mine before she turned back to the stove.

“Smells incredible. What is it?”

“Meatball lasagna. I wanted to make regular old lasagna, but the more my hands started to work, the more distracted I became, and I wasn’t thinking about anything. Not my parents or Father Eric and definitely not Squeaker.”

I wanted to ask if she’d thought of pills or drugs, but I already knew the answer. “Then I can’t wait to taste the source of this distraction. Need some help?”

She shook her head and bent over to look in the oven, proving that underneath those jeans, she hadn’t lost so much weight that her feminine curves were gone. Not at all. It wasn’t something I should’ve been thinking about. But, damn.

Things were too complicated with her drug use, not to mention living with me, but I couldn’t look away. When Bonnie stood up straight, her skin was flushed pink from the oven heat, and she wore a girlish smile that made her, once again, seem like the old Bonnie. The sweet church girl who didn’t know her beauty.

“Nah, I think I’ve got it. You can keep me company though, tell me about your day.” She put her hands on her hips which drew the shirt tight across her chest. “What is it that you do for work?”

I raised my brows at her and slid onto a stool at the island. “You mean to tell me that Little Miss Know-It-All doesn’t know everything?”

She shrugged, a coy smile playing around her mouth. “I know plenty but not this. So?”

“Whatever’s necessary, honestly. Mostly I work from the living room, making sure everything under the Ashby umbrella is safe and secure from cyber-attacks—among other things.”

She nodded as if she were listening, really listening and turned back to the stove. “Is that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Yeah. I mean I guess so. When I was a kid I wanted to be Batman and then I wanted to be Virgil, but I was always on a computer. Playing games, creating games and even taking the machines apart and putting them back together.” I didn’t know how else to answer the question. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I had the skills and even Ma could see it. Insisted I do something with it.”

Bonnie shook her hair, red waves falling in a curtain down her back when the clip slipped to the floor. “Your mom is one smart lady. Tough as hell, but smart.”

“Sounds like you were privy to one of her patented talks.” Curiosity was killing me, but I couldn’t flat out ask her what they’d talked about without sounding like a nosy prick.

“Something like that,” she said vaguely.

“Want a drink?” She didn’t want to share her discussion with Ma, so I switched topics to keep the peace. For now.

“Sure, I mean I don’t think that’s off limits. Right?” The question in her voice and that vulnerability had returned, dammit, making her more appealing than ever. Stuck up, judgmental Bonnie was easy to resist but this one, wounded and cracked and vulnerable? She was like fucking catnip to me.

“I haven’t had anything all day; let’s give it a shot.”

I tucked that information away for later, smiled and stood to grab the good whiskey from the bar. “What did you do today?”

Bonnie shrugged. “Not much. Ran a few errands and came back here where I mostly researched what kinds of jobs I can get with my Philanthropy degree and level of absolutely no experience. I mean how hard can it be to get a non-profit job? I hope I have options.”

She didn’t sound sure, but given everything she’d been through lately, I couldn’t say I blamed her.

“You should look on the Ashby job boards. Maybe we have something for you.” She shook her head right away, and honestly it shocked the shit out of me. “Good enough to take our help but not our money?”

Bonnie sighed and turned away from me, her shoulders settled low in disappointment. “No, it’s not like that. It’s not about me thinking I’m too good or anything. It’s about self-preservation. Staying here is probably dangerous enough as it is.”