Page 19 of Worth the Scandal
I can’t fight the smile breaking out over my face because I know it was memorable—it has been for me, spending the last two years pining over a man I’d never see again. And no one has even come close to measuring up since. But to hear him say he felt the same, that’s what makes my heart sing, like someone’sjumped inside my chest cavity and given it a tiny warm hug. That feeling in my stomach has now turned into butterflies too.
“Neither have I. But it doesn’t mean you owe me answers” is what I say out loud, but I need to know why he didn’t try to keep contact. You definitely owe me answers.
“I was moving away, to Dawson’s, the next day. I didn’t want to put that pressure on you.”
My face screws up at the thought, all this time. Asher, Mr Mysterious has been right here in my hometown with my dad. Not once did I come to visit, all this time. To think he’s been under my nose,waiting.
“Come on I’ll drive you home.”
Chapter Six - Scarlett
It is day one in Dawson’s Ridge…I am back in Dawson’s Ridge, I can barely believe that, let alone this. I am back and I am nestled beside Asher in his cobalt blue 1966 Mustang, a vehicle that screams him—rugged yet sleek, strong, and annoyingly irresistible…with a sweet fruity smell. Is that,watermelon? Huh a watermelon air freshener—my favourite scent. God it’s a beautiful car, it’s got to be pricey too. He must be on a decent contract here. His knuckles grip the wheel tightly, gaze fixed forward, focused like he’s taking his learner’s test. It’s a sports car and he drives it like a heavy artillery tank or like one of the senior citizens you’ve got to beep at down Main Street to do the speed limit. “Why weren’t you out earlier with everyone else?” I tease, nudging him gently.
He exhales slowly; eyes still razor sharp focused on the road. “Collins texted you were out. Figured I’d swing by.”
“Oh, how thoughtful,” I grin smugly. “You were so clearly there for me then. Admit it.”
He ignores my teasing, not even a small smirk. Geez, he’s a tense driver. I guess there could be worse traits than a safe driver.
Fiveslow,slow minutes pass by and chatty Asher has been left out the back of The Golden Sparrow and replaced with whatever snoozefest version this is.
Asher’s eyes are still stubbornly glued to the road, refusing to glance my way even for a split second.
“You planning on acknowledging me at all, or is ignoring me a strategic choice here?”
He exhales slowly, gripping the wheel like his life depends on it. “I’m trying to focus on the task at hand, Scarlett. Getting you home safely and…” He clears his throat nervously before he continues “without breaking that little promise we all made to Ted.”
Ah, yes—the infamous no-touching-the-daughter agreement Caleb spilled about earlier.
“Okay,” I counter, tapping my finger thoughtfully against my lips, “but technically, didn’t we already break that promise? Isn’t this basically double jeopardy?” I always loved that movie, one of mum’s faves actually, truthfully there’s not many people my age bracket who have heard of it, but it was at least an annual watch with mum.
He finally turns, flashing me that infuriatingly gorgeous grin, the one I haven’t forgotten for a single night.Oh, hello again, Mr. Mysterious.
“How many drinks have you had tonight, darling?” He punctuates it by dragging his tongue lazily across his bottom lip.
Ugh, there’s that nickname again. I scrunch my face dramatically. “Enough drinks to know I’m making a pretty convincing argument and driving a very hard bargain.” I can’t help myself I peek down at his lap.Wait. Hard? Damn it, Scarlett—words. Choose them more wisely.But all I can think about is the last time I was alone with Asher.
My traitorous body immediately reacts, betraying me entirely as my gaze flicks down to what’s hiding behind the fly in those pants,again. Memories flood my brain of exactly what that tongue of his is capable of. It’s pure muscle memory from that one unforgettable night two years ago. And if you mustknow, not a single person has lived up to him since.Shut up, don’t judge me—there’s only been one other, okay.
Asher clearly caught my slip of the tongue, because suddenly he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat, adjusting his jeans with one hand.
He clears his throat, attempting to sound casual. “Uh, Ted’s place—it’s just up here, right? I’ve only been a couple of times.” He gestures vaguely ahead with his ridiculously attractive, thick index finger.
I’ve just found a finger sexually arousing,I’m losing it.C’mon Ash put me out of this misery.
My logical brain has officially left the building, handing control over to my impulsive side—which, honestly, never ends well evidently where Asher and alcohol are involved. Before I can stop myself, I reach over, grasping his hand and drawing his finger slowly between my lips, swirling my tongue around the tip teasingly. He shudders beneath my touch, goosebumps scattering across his arm, releasing the smallest sound that does very bad things to me.
And makes me want to do very bad things to him.
“Scarlett,” he rasps, his voice strained with self-control, “Please don’t. You know this can’t happen, and I’m trying to drive.”
Okay, major buzzkill. My ego pops like an over-inflated balloon, embarrassment flooding in instantly. He’s right—I can’t let my selfish wants mess this up for him. But dammit, universe. I’ve literally fantasised about this man every lonely night for the past twenty-four months—over morning coffee, midday meetings, every quiet moment. Now he’s delivered right to me on a silver platter labelled “look but don’t touch.”
“I just…” he continues gently, his grip tightening again on the wheel, knuckles white, eyes locked ahead, this man is very serious about his driving safety, “I can’t jeopardise thisopportunity. I’ve worked my ass off to get here. Hell, I’m risking everything right now just driving you home, but I wasn’t leaving you behind with creepy-ass Brendan or anyone else who thinks they’ve got a shot with you.”
His car rolls to a stop out front, and I sigh deeply. I’m pissed—mostly because he’s right. I shouldn’t be dating players when my job literally revolves around managing their careers. Reluctantly, I reach for the door, ready to escape this self-inflicted torture. But Asher’s thick hands suddenly wrap around my wrist, pulling me back toward him, his face mere inches from mine. His breath warm against my lips.
“But just so we’re clear,” he whispers huskily, “I’ll be thinking about your perfect fucking ass in the shower tonight—and probably every night—with these hands wrapped tight around my cock.” His lips softly press against my forehead. “Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you around.”
