“Funny.”

  “I try to be.” She flashes me a dazzling smile.

  “Why are we having this conversation again?” I groan. “Haven’t we talked about this ad nauseum?”

  “Then stop mind-fucking it and fuck him instead.”

  I choke on my sip of wine. “Way to be blunt.”

  “Is there any other way to be?” She dazzles me with a smile. “How about I be even more blunt?”

  “I have a feeling it doesn’t matter if I say yes or no because you’re going to say it anyway.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page.” She gives a definitive nod and then chuckles. Oh, she’s definitely starting to feel her wine as much as I am. “So here’s the thing. If you want to continue to hate him as you have every right and are so desperately trying to do . . . then girl, let’s just admit that there is nothing wrong with a good, angry, hate fuck.”

  “Jesus.” I try not to spit out my wine. I was not expecting her to go there. But then again, it is Nita. She holds nothing back.

  “What? Are you telling me that a bout of hate fucking isn’t good for the soul? The back-scratching, shoulder-nipping, skin-bruising variety of sex?” She mock shudders in pleasure. “It’s invigorating. Primal. Incredible. Maybe that’s exactly what you need to get over this hump and . . . I don’t know. Forgive him. Write him off. Use him as he used you.”

  I absolutely hate myself for picturing what she’s saying. For imagining his lips on mine and that deep tenor of his voice groaning my name. For being turned on by it. For wondering what Ledger’s like in bed. Because with age comes practice and . . . yes, now I’m definitely wondering.

  “You’re delusional,” I say despite my body’s visceral reaction.

  “Perhaps, but you know I’m right.”

  “Well . . .” I say and give her a look saying I can’t argue with her, which prompts us both to burst into laughter.

  “There is another option too.”

  “What? The option that this conversation is ludicrous and you’re out of your mind?”

  “You have deflection down to an art form. It’s really rather admirable.”

  I know she means well, but Ledger has already taken up too much free rent in my head since that night at Hank’s. I’ve run every scenario through my mind. I’ve rationalized and justified and tried to understand how I can still desire a man who hurt me so deeply. It has to simply be physical attraction, right? Because we’re nowhere near the same people we were years ago.

  Stop saying the past is the past, Ash, if you keep dredging it up.

  My only conclusion has been that it’s probably best to keep him at arm’s length. Self-preservation at its finest.

  At least, that’s my current theory.

  And at the end of the day, the decision to sleep or not to sleep with someone is mine regardless of how hot Nita’s description of it might be. Sure, Ledger is incredibly attractive. Yes, there is no question about our chemistry. But he lives in New York City, and I still live in Cedar Falls.

  That one fact hasn’t changed over time.

  Then there’s the fact that if we were to . . . act on this tension vibrating between us, it would merely be a fling. That’s all it could be. Call it self-preservation or learning from past mistakes, but I simply don’t have time for a fling. Not one I already know will hurt me in the end.

  Plus, I prefer to not give the Judy Jensens of this town more fodder for their gossip. The rich city guy choosing me and not one of them just might push them over their pretentious edges.

  “Yoo-hoo. You still with me?” Nita asks as she passes her hand back and forth in front of my face.

  “Yes. Sorry. Just thinking about something I forgot to do today,” I lie.

  “Like Ledger?” She laughs at her own joke while I roll my eyes. “I still think you should call him.”

  “Maybe,” I say for the sake of ending this discussion.

  “Now’s as good of a time as any.” Nita looks at my cell phone on the table and lifts her eyebrows.

  “Tomorrow’s an even better one.”

  We both burst out laughing. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I know I am, Nita,” I say, rising from the table and enveloping her in a hug from behind. “But is it so wrong that I want to sit here with my best friend, drink till I’m tipsy, and dance with some random man who’ll probably step on my toes more times than not? Uncomplicated is my goal for tonight. I’ve had a shitty week, and I want to stop dwelling on the fact that the one and only man I’ve ever let break my heart is somewhere in this town tonight. Maybe I’ll call him. Maybe I won’t. But the one thing I know for sure is I want another glass of wine, and then we’ll go from there.”

  “Whoa, girl. Take a breath.” Nita laughs. “Anything else you need to get off your impressively cleavage-ridden chest tonight?”

  “Nope.” I sit back down beside her and emit an audible exhale. “But it felt good to get it all out.”

  “To manifest it?”

  “Something like that,” I say and take another sip of wine. My buzz is just within reach, and it’s something I welcome wholeheartedly.

  “There is one problem with your line of thinking though,” Nita says, giving a nod to Connor as the fresh drinks are delivered to our table.

  “What’s that?”

  “You know there are no random men in Cedar, right? We know every single one of them.”

  “That’s true. Then I’ll rephrase and say dance with a harmless man. Does that work?”

  “It does. Harmless is good. I just might look for one to occupy my—ahem—time tonight as well.”

  “Oh really? Is that so?”

  “Yep.” Her grin widens. “Miller is spending the night at my mom’s tonight, and I do not have to work either job tomorrow. So I’m childless with no one to take care of and have nowhere I need to be by a certain time tomorrow. It’s glorious.”

  “And a rarity.” My smile softens as I meet her eyes. Being a single mother isn’t easy, but I’ve never heard her complain once. She loves her son and their life despite doing it all on her own. “You most definitely deserve some of that back-scratching sex more than I do.”

  “Amen, sister.” She gives me a high five and then startles. “Uh-oh. I think you’re going to win the race to being horizontal.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a man standing at the end of the bar right now giving you the eye.”

  Ledger.

  Why is he my first thought? And even worse, why, when I turn to look where Nita is motioning, am I disappointed that the man looking my way isn’t him? Instead, it’s Carson Allen.

  Of course, it is.

  “Carson’s always giving me the eye.” I roll my eyes at her before looking back at him and waving.

  “That man has loved you ever since you backed into his car six years ago,” she murmurs as he starts to make his way through the crowd.

  “I think he should take that as a reason why he shouldn’t like me.”

  “But he’s funny and harmless. You could do worse.”

  “I have done worse.”

  Nita belts out a laugh as Carson approaches our table, his smile wide and laughter already on his lips.

  Ledger

  “The deal is on the table, Hiro. Three hundred mil,” I say, moving about my office. My inability to stand still while being on the phone drives my brothers crazy.

  “I understand, Ledger, but Takashi isn’t going to budge.”

  Fucking Takashi trying to play hardball when he doesn’t know that’s my favorite way to play.

  “He’s not going to budge? That’s a mistake and you know it.” My chuckle is low and taunting as I run a hand through my hair and stare out the darkened window. “Three hundred is a more than fair evaluation. Your property is aging, your traffic is down, and Takashi has undermined it by using its equity to leverage his Tokyo project.”

  “How did—”

  “Yes. I know about that. I assure you I’m more than thorough in my research before jumping into negotiations.” I pause for effect. “No stone is left unturned. It’s important to know what I’m jumping into before I make the first phone call to express interest.”

  Yes, Hiro, I know everything about everything. Like his affair with his assistant. Like how he’s using some of the equity in the property we want to pay off his gambling debts.

  Yes, I know he has no other choice than to sell.

  His silence tells me my message was heard.

  “I’m not in the business of lowballing people. This is a more than fair evaluation that he won’t get from anyone else.”

  “Understood.” His voice is a little less steady now. It’s also more than bullshit that Takashi isn’t speaking to me himself. No doubt he’s standing beside him, listening to this whole conversation, too chickenshit to deal with me himself. Hiro clears his throat. “He’ll have a decision for you by the end of the week.”

  “No. He’ll have a decision for me by the end of the hour or the deal is off the table. Talk soon.” I hang up without letting him respond.

  Always negotiate from a place of power.

  My father’s words come back to me. My smile is bittersweet, the pang in my chest still raw.

  He was a hard man. Demanding. Unmalleable. He loved his sons with all his heart, but he definitely expected perfection. And for reasons I had no control over, he expected it the most from me. I was his firstborn. I was the most like him.

  I don’t know the reason, but some days I loathed it, others I understood it. Regardless, it made me the man I am today, so I have to respect it.

  And I’m not going to lie, the high I get from negotiating a purchase like this new project in Tokyo is pretty damn spectacular.

  Even if it means my plans for the night to go to Connor’s and see if Asher is there were thwarted.

  It’s not like you don’t know where she lives, Ledge.

  I have an hour to kill waiting for Takashi to respond—and he’ll respond with a minute or two to go simply to let me know he’s in charge—and a bottle of whiskey in my desk drawer that was a welcome gift from the owner of Cedar Falls Outdoor Adventures to drink while I wait.

  At least someone in this town is glad we’re here.

  I stare at the bottle and then out the window toward the direction of Connor’s where I’d prefer to be, and then back to the bottle.

  I’m two glasses in when my cell rings. Like I thought, Takashi pushed it till the last minute. I have half a mind to let it go to voicemail and make him sweat it out, but I want this deal done so S.I.N. can move forward.

  And so I can cross another item off my list of things I wanted to accomplish: expand the S.I.N. brand into Asia.

  “Takashi.”

  “Sharpe.” He doesn’t sound happy. Not my problem. When you’re the golden boy of one of Japan’s biggest tycoons and are about to find yourself in a fire sale to cover your ass, you wouldn’t be either.

  “I’m assuming you have an answer for me.”

  His sigh is heavy, his distaste for me palpable. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Say it, fucker. Say, we have a deal.

  Another sigh of reluctance. Or distaste. Either one is fine with me. “I accept your offer.”

  I fist-pump into the empty room, but when I speak, my voice is controlled. “Congratulations, Takashi. I’ll have my counsel reach out to yours and get the details situated.”

  “You gave me no choice,” he says.

  “No. You gave yourself no choice. I’m just being a smart businessman. I’ll be in touch.”

  I end the call, sit my ass on the edge of my desk, and just take a minute for the acquisition of Miyako-Jima Resort to sink in. Six months of negotiations. Three visits to Japan. It will all be worth it though. I fire off a text to Callahan and Ford to let them know the deal is done, but it’s late in New York, and I don’t expect an answer.

  High from the adrenaline rush of clinching a deal that will potentially open the Asian market for S.I.N. investments, I swallow the rest of what’s left in my glass. Antsy and with too much energy, I grab my keys and head out the door of the resort.

  Fresh air.

  That’s what I need. Fresh air and yet, my feet don’t stop once I’m outside and have found it.

  “Done for the night?” Bernie, our site security guard, asks.

  “I am.”

  “It was a late one for you.”

  “Always is.”

  “Any plans? The night’s still young, you know.”

  “I do. Thanks.” I stop to look at him as if he just made me realize where I already knew I was going. “Have a good night.”

  It takes me a good fifteen minutes to walk to Connor’s. By then, the whiskey’s worked its way through my system, keeping me warm and simultaneously spurring me on.

  The parking lot is crowded with cars, and the patrons have spilled outside onto the outdoor patio at its rear. It’s a large place, and the live music and loud chatter floats out the open windows and hits me from the far side of the parking lot.

  The front door has a crowd around it, so I veer around toward the back to avoid it. I’m just about to walk through the small gate that encloses a mixture of low and high tables when I hear a voice.

  Asher’s voice.

  “Knock it off, Carson.” I turn to see Asher pushing against the chest of a guy who has a good hundred pounds on her. “Stop.”

  “C’mon. You’ve been cock-teasing me all night—hell, for years,” he slurs. “Just admit you want me—” The fucker smashes his lips to hers as she tries to struggle out of his grip.

  Four strides. That’s all it takes for me to cross the distance and get to them.

  “Get off her,” I shout as I push him away. He shoves me back, but I have my fist cocked and let it fly into the fucker’s face before he can say a word.

  “Ledger. No.” Asher’s shout of my name mixes with the ooof made by the prick as he stumbles backward and hits the railing behind him.

  “Are you okay?” I turn to look at Asher, my one hand out to keep her away and my other toward the guy.

  “What are you doing?” she shouts at me as she runs to the man’s side. Confusion blankets me. “Carson? Car?” Her hands are on his face, her voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  She wanted him?

  Wanted the kiss?

  Carson mumbles something, his words garbled as he’s clearly shit-faced, before chuckling and bringing a hand to rub over his cheek where my punch landed.

  “What were you thinking?” Asher screams as she takes two steps toward me.

  “He was all over you. He wouldn’t—”

  “He’s harmless. Fucking harmless.” She looks from me and then back to Carson, who’s clearly unaffected much to my dismay, and then back to me. “He’s just . . . Carson,” she says in exasperation as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

  And as if on cue, Carson’s laughter rings out as he looks my way. “S’all good, man. S’all good. I’d fight for her too.” He stands and wobbles a bit before stumbling a few feet toward the back entrance of the bar. His words repeat in my head. I’d fight for her too. “I need another drink after that.” He turns to look at Asher again, smiles sheepishly, and then almost falls off the barstool he’s trying to sit down on.

  “You,” Asher says, pointing at me as she stalks toward me, closing the distance between us. Her face is a mask of fury, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “How dare you punch him. He’s just Carson. Harmless. Friendly.” She pushes hard against my chest, and I take a few steps back, more than surprised by her reaction. “Just him.”

  “I was helping you. Saving you.”

  “Saving me?” she screeches.

  Her lips.

  “Yes.”

  Are right there.

  “You lost the right to save me, to have anything to do with me, after the night you humiliated me. The night you let me be humil—”

  “The night I what?”

  “Nothing.” She grits the word out. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I throw my hands out to my sides as she stands before me, a foot shorter and a ball of ire. The people on the patio are unabashedly paying attention to our fight, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve thought about this woman all goddamn week, and I’m not walking away this time.

  But humiliated her? What in the hell is she talking about?

  There is a look in her eyes—a look years ago I would have been able to decipher but that I can’t right now. We’re strangers. Strangers. The thought is fucking killing me when all I want to do is . . .

  “Why did you come here tonight, Ledger?” she mutters.

  I have a million smart-ass comebacks on my tongue. Every single one will fuel that temper of hers, but for some reason, as I stare at her standing with the moonlight in her hair, I’m reminded of another time, another place, when she looked similar.

  My lavender girl.

  And I opt for honesty.

  “Because when it comes to you, Asher, I can’t seem to stay away. I want you. Christ, I want you so fucking bad, and seeing that jerk kissing you just about did me—”

  Suddenly her fists are in my shirt and her mouth is slanted over mine.

  Thank. Fuck.

  My hands are on her face, my lips are against hers, my tongue seeks hers, without any thought other than finally.

  Her anger is bitter.

  Her desire is sweet.

  Both riot against my tongue as my head swims with the taste of Asher Wells.

  She kisses me with a hunger and fire that match mine. There’s urgency and hesitancy. Desperation and confusion.

  There’s just her.

  Only. Her.

  Fucking hell.

  She pushes me away with as much determination as I want to keep kissing her. Her chest heaving. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes wide. “How dare you?” she grits out from lips swollen from mine.

  “Dare me?” What the hell? She initiated the kiss. “What are you talking about?” I need more. “I didn’t do a goddamn thing wrong.” My chuckle holds no amusement, just utter disbelief.