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Deadshifted (Edie Spence 4)

Page 14

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Asher was quiet while I pushed Claire back to where Hal was now waiting.

“I can’t believe you conned this nice couple into pushing you around,” Hal said with the kind of over-enunciating that hearing loss sometimes brought on, as if by making himself more clear, the world would return the favor.

“Only the one. Him, I’m not so sure about yet,” Claire said, pointing to Asher, who manufactured a good-natured grin. “Don’t try flirting with me, young man,” she warned. “I’m a taken woman. It will get you nowhere. ”

Abashed, Asher laughed and smiled for real.

“That’s better, boy. I can tell when people are faking,” Claire said, and then turned back to me. “Thank you for the lovely walk. See you at dinner soon, I hope. ”

“Thanks. You too. ” I waved as Hal pulled her away.

The second they were out of earshot, Asher turned to me. “Are you really okay?”

“Honestly. I’m fine. ” We walked off the deck and caught the next elevator. As soon as we’d stepped inside, he started touching the arm I’d fallen on, for medical purposes. I hissed, and he frowned deeply.

“You didn’t fracture it, did you?”

“No. It’s just a bruise. ” I swung it around to prove to him I still had my full range of motion.

“And … your stomach?” he said tentatively.

“Is currently fine too. ” The doors opened, and we walked without talking down the halls until we got to our room. “You’re not going to try anything out again at dinner, are you?”

“Probably not. ” I blinked at him, and he half shrugged. “I thought you’d appreciate my honesty, rather than me lying and disappointing you again. ”

I stared at him flatly. “You’re a better study of human behavior than that. ”

He held his hands up. “Oh, come on, Edie, I was teasing. I won’t touch the man. But there’s no rule against talking to him, is there? I mean, there’s probably a reason his kid keeps running away. ”

“I think we’re a little far for a children’s protective services call out here, Asher. ” But I had seen that cowed look on Liz’s face. I couldn’t just ignore it.

“Besides, I was just being polite,” Asher went on. “And the opportunity presented itself. I’m an opportunity taker. ” He took a step nearer me, as though an opportunity were around. I frowned.

“This is currently not super-sexy. ”

He got a devilish gleam in his eye. “What if I told you we were getting married next week?”

I squinted up at him. “I’m listening. ”

“On a secluded beach in Hawaii,” he went on, his voice as smooth as a late-night radio host.

“Did it involve bribery?”

“It leaned more toward highway robbery. But it looks beautiful in the pictures they showed me. I didn’t think you’d mind. ”

I wrinkled my face in disbelief. “Married on Hawaii. That’s even more frivolous than I’d previously thought. ”

“Too late. It’s done. We just have to show up. ”

He did look hopeful. He wanted my approval—even if he was still going to take chances. In the end, he was who he was. I wasn’t going to be able to change him.

I sighed. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome. ”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed. And he leaned in.

* * *

Our clothes were off and we were on the floor together in no time. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew how I felt. Our future was barreling down toward us like a bullet flying out of a gun. I was looking forward to it, yes—but I also knew it was going to hit me.

Sex was a way to press PAUSE, to stay in the here and now, and now, and now.

The top of Asher’s back was against the side of the couch, and my legs were wrapped around his waist. He was curved up, and I could play my hands down the flatness of his stomach. I could feel his muscles flex when he pushed into me, and I tried to settle deeper into his lap. We hadn’t said a word since we’d started; we didn’t need to.

Then the intercom overhead chimed so loudly I squeaked in surprise.

“This is Captain Ames speaking—”

I stopped what I was doing, although Asher didn’t. He was able to ignore the captain—who was sharing the fact that we were trying to outrun a storm. And while the outbreak of nausea among passengers was directly related our speed, it would be a good idea if we all washed our hands. He started singing the “Happy Birthday” song to show us how long we ought to wash our hands for, by way of demonstration.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud.

“You’d think this would turn you on,” Asher teased. “I know you’re a fan of hand washing. ”

“This is the least sexy song on the planet. ”

“Then don’t listen to it,” he challenged me, still sliding himself incrementally in and out of me.

“I can’t help it. He’s so loud,” I said over the captain’s singing voice. “Stop it, Asher. You’re perverting ‘Happy Birthday. ’”



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