Page 8 of Ashley
"James," she seethed. Natasha was still glaring at James and the woman he was with when Silas sauntered up, sipping from a beer. He stopped short and gave her an assessing look. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and her hands curled into fists at her side.
"What happened?" he asked, taking a cautious step closer. He knew to tread lightly when Natasha had this look to her. Whoever or whatever had put it there was in for a world of hurt, and he silently prayed it wasn't him.
"James," Natasha replied, her mouth twisting into a frown. "I'm going to kick him in the balls."
"Sorry?" Silas asked, though he was relieved to not be on the receiving end of his little's anger. She was sweet as anything, but when her anger ignited, it did so with the force of an atomic bomb.
She turned to look up at him and jerked her chin in James' direction. "He's the Daddy."
"What do you mean th—" Silas began, but at the angry look in Natasha's eyes and the fact that he'd just seen Ashley bolt from the party, he understood what she'd meant by 'the Daddy'. "Oh, shit."
"Oh shit is right," Natasha muttered, and before he could stop her, she was off and storming across the room.
"Tash," he called after her, but she was gone, weaving her way through the crush of bodies and standing in front of James by the time he caught up to her.
She crossed her arms and glared at James and his blonde company. "We need to talk," she said, her voice coming out at a harsh clip.
James looked away from the woman he had just been speaking to and gave Natasha a sidelong look. "We do?" He didn't miss the way Natasha's body was held tight, how she had practically been glaring holes in him from across the room, or how Silas was hanging back watching them with a look of concern.
Interesting.
Natasha crossed her arms. "Yes, we do. And now."
"Um, excuse me." The blonde turned to look back at Natasha with a barely disguised look of disdain. "This is a private conversation so—"
"We are not going to be having any of that," James said, cutting in with a sigh as he gave the woman—Miranda, she'd said her name was in their brief introduction earlier that night—a pat on the side. "I've got to run. Another time."
Blue eyes turned his way, and Miranda's mouth fell open in shock. "Are you serious?" she gasped.
James nudged her to the side. "Sorry, sweetheart. Got family business to attend to." He gave her an apologetic smile rather than laying out the reasons that speaking to Natasha like she'd done had effectively killed any plans for romance and lust between the two of them. He didn't abide by disrespect, especially not to those he considered family, and Natasha was one such person. If she said they needed to talk with a pissed off look on her face and Silas at her back, he was going to have to trust that there was indeed a reason to talk.
"But—" Miranda began, but James had already slipped from the chair and was walking with Natasha.
"What is it?" he asked when they were standing a few feet away from the main party. He leaned back against the wall in a mirror pose of what Silas was doing while Natasha continued to glare at him.
"I'll tell you what," she gritted out between clenched teeth, and James knew he was in for it. There was no reasoning with Natasha until she worked herself out, so he settled in against the wall content to let her have her say, but her next words had him snapping to attention with a jerk.
"You make a habit of leaving little girls in sub drop?"
"What?" He blinked. "What are you talking about? I don't do that."
Natasha snorted. "Like hell, you don't."
"Give me names and times. What are you going on about?"
"You want names and times? Fine. Last Saturday. Ashley."
James searched his memory and hated that he came up short. "Who's that?"
Her mouth fell open. "What do you mean, who's that?" Natasha's eyes bulged, and James was surprised she didn't start swinging at him, so dark was the look on her face. "You didn't even get her name, did you?"
"Whose name?"
"Our engagement party," Silas said, finally speaking up and standing next to Natasha. "You met a girl there, spent some time with her, too."
"Oh, her." James nodded and looked away from the couple. Instantly, memories of the wide-eyed woman with long blonde hair and curves he had encountered and nearly fallen for in the span of a few hours flitted before him. She'd been sweet and giving as anything. Her body had been lush and ripe like a goddamned peach, and she'd been game for roleplay. He'd thoroughly enjoyed himself, they both had, so why did Natasha seem like she wanted to rip his heart out and feed it to him?
"Yes,oh her," Natasha said with a jerk of her head. "You left her in sub drop and she's been—"
