Everyone in her world was imploding at the exact same time. A bright red warning light flashed in the back of her mind, indicating that she might be next. She sent a thumbs up text to both her agent and her editor—the only communication she could muster—and let Logan know she was on her way. She desperately needed a distraction.
She stood, slipped on her sandals, and went into the kitchen to tell Asher she was heading to the conservation center, but came to an abrupt halt. Asher stood at the counter, staring blankly at a bunch of unrelated, unappetizing ingredients. She was no chef, but she didn’t know how coconut flour, baking soda, chocolate chips, a block of Parmesan cheese, a can of sardines, orange juice concentrate, and red wine vinegar were going to pair together into anything delicious.
She took a soft step closer. “Whatcha making?”
He blinked at her, looking lost. Her problems jumped into the trunk of her mind, while his took passenger seat. “Garbage.”
“Hmm,” she said, lightly placing her hand on his forearm. “As interesting as that sounds, do you want to come with me to visit our baby instead?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, surprise winking light back into his gaze.Gotcha.“We have a baby together?”
“Wow.” She straightened her mouth in mock disappointment. “Did our sea turtle adoption mean nothing to you?”
Her silliness broke him out of his moroseness, just as she’d hoped, though his expression was still a long ways off from any semblance of a smile. “I didn’t realize Miss Havisham was a baby—ours or otherwise. My apologies.”
“We eviscerated the octogenarian competition for that win.”
“I remember. Don may never be the same.”
“He’ll get over it.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Besides, I think he faked missing that last monkey bar and falling.”
“Don would never let anyone win. Especially someone younger than him.”
He’d flown through the obstacle course, and his time would be faster than theirs, but she could have sworn he’d glanced at her briefly before he overshot the next monkey bar and fell.
“Maybe he didn’t want the responsibility of another child,” she said.
That earned her a lip twitch. He took in the messy living room and kitchen. “I shouldn’t leave all of this.”
“It’ll be here when we get back. Come with me. Please?” She slid her hand down his forearm, gliding her fingers across every raised vein and tendon, until she got to his hand. Goosebumps erupted on his arms in the wake of her touch, and she caught her breath. He wrapped his hand around hers, holding her in place. She could feel him looking at her, but she refused to look up at him, afraid of what she might—or might not-see.
He slid his fingers through hers in a gentle caress, so slowly she had plenty of time to pull away. But she didn’t. Why didn’t she? Fire raced through her veins and the heat of it burned all the way from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes.
Her throat went dry. They didn’t move, and she knew he was waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she did, she was shocked to see that fire blazed fiercely in his eyes. Something in her expression banked it. He loosened his grip on her hand, though he kept their fingers intertwined loosely. Casually.
Yet nothing about this felt casual at all.
“Want to take the motorcycle?” he asked, his voice low and rumbly.
“It’s about time you asked.”
Chapter 20
Forsomeonewhodidn’tlike animals, Asher was acquiring them at a fast rate. First a live-in turtle, then an adopted rescue turtle. He lowered his voice to speak to Logan, who stood beside him in the indoor aquarium portion of the conservation center. “This adoption is in name-only right?”
Miss Havisham rested on a fake beach beside a small body of water. Lamps meant to simulate the heat and light from outside were set around the habitat. She hadn’t moved once since they arrived, and he had to take Logan’s word for it that she was alive and well.
“Yes.” Logan turned toward him, leaning his side against the rail. “Our goal is to rehabilitate and return to the wild when possible. When it’s not possible, we still want to keep them in as natural environment as possible.” He grinned. “Think of yourself as the parent to a new adult.”
“One who has my credit card memorized?” he grumbled.
“And really expensive taste.”
As it turned out, winning a turtle adoption came with a Pinocchio-load of strings attached. Financial strings, mostly, though he felt the unwelcome tug of emotional strings too. He rubbed at his chest. Luckily, Asher was in a position where he could support the food and care of this sea turtle beyond the money the fundraiser brought in.
And double-lucky, he had a cold dead heart when it came to animals. The pain in his chest better be heartburn and not any sort of thawing.
No wonder Don had thrown his game and let them win. He was the only smart one.
