Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

“I know. I want to.” That answer seemed to appease Bonnie, and she went back to the salad she was working on. Quietly.

We each moved around the kitchen, careful to avoid touching one another. It was almost as if Bonnie felt the same things I was feeling and, like me, was working hard as fuck to fight it.

“Oh. Excuse me,” she said awkwardly. We nearly collided at the drawer where I kept the cutlery. She just kept those hazel eyes firmly on the floor.

“No worries,” I told her and took a step back with my hands in the air. “After you.”

“Thanks.” She flashed another nervous grin and took a dramatic sidestep away from me, a move that only stretched my smile wider.

I took my time, grabbing forks and knives while she worked busily behind me. It was strange, having someone else occupying my space, but it wasn’t bad. Just…odd.

“Do you have a…spatula?” When I turned at Bonnie’s question, we were practically nose to nose, causing a hitch in her breath.

“Yep. It’s right…here,” I said with a smile and reached just past her to grab the stainless steel spatula. She let out another gasp when my arm accidentally grazed her rib.

“Uh, thanks.” She took the spatula but stayed rooted to the spot, barely an inch away from me. Bonnie sucked in another breath, leaving her mouth open in an alluring, erotic ‘o’.

The air charged around us.

I didn’t know who took the step forward first—didn’t care—but a second later I had Bonnie in my arms, her lips on mine. My tongue sliding against her mouth, teasing the top and then the bottom, before giving the seam my full attention. She melted into me and that was all I needed to deepen the kiss, to turn it into more than an opportunity. It was a chance, for what I had no fucking clue and Bonnie’s inexperienced kiss made it difficult to think straight.

The way her clumsy fingers speared through my hair, the tentative way her lips caressed mine back. Who knew innocence was so fucking intoxicating?

I didn’t know how long we stood there beside the sink kissing like horny teenagers, but I knew I wasn’t ready for it to end. Not anytime soon, at least.

But as always, the universe didn’t give a fuck about what I wanted. She just did what she wanted and in that moment, it meant interrupting the hottest kiss I’d had in way too damn long. My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling Bonnie so she jumped nearly a foot away from me, smacking her arm against the counter in the process. “Ouch!”

I tried to hide my smile but it didn’t work. “Careful. It’s just my phone.”

“Something important?”

I took the opportunity to glance at my phone. An alert I’d set when more information became available on Jack Beck. “Sort of, but it can wait.”

She shook her head. “Work is important,” she said, her tone serious. “I’ll make you a plate and take mine upstairs. The hunt for work never ends.” She turned away, effectively ending the conversation, and I heaved a sigh.

Disappointed, but I understood. Bonnie was scared. Her life was a shit show, and she was in no place to explore whatever this was between us. Not now anyway.

There was still time, at least that’s what I told myself as I ate the meatball lasagna and dug into the lives of Jack and Addison Beck.

Chapter Fifteen

Bonnie

“Listen sugar, hooking ain’t like it is in the movies. The johns out here aren’t Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. They’re closer to Green River. Always. You can have your limits, sure, but every day you’ll find a man who wants to push ’em.”

Brandee took a long pull of her cigarette as if recounting the details of her day was too stressful. “All I’m sayin’ is that this ain’t no walk in the park. You said you have a degree?” I nodded and Brandee shook her head. “Do something with that. Whatever you can.”

I looked around the twenty-four-hour taco shop from the wooden picnic table Brandee and I occupied. A sea of faces surrounded us from domestic workers to the abundance of hotel shift workers, all night partiers and early lunchers, all lined up for gourmet tacos.

“You don’t think I’d be good at it?” I was inexperienced. I knew that, but I thought it might be a selling point.

“That’s what I’m getting at girl. It don’t matter if you’re good at it or not. You wanna be good at fuckin’, get into porn. Hookin’ will chew you up until you’re nothing but little bits of trash. When you reach a certain age,” she motioned to herself, “it’ll spit you out and then where will you be?”

I sighed and sat back before remembering there was no back to support me. “Searching, again, for the unattainable.”