As if she had a choice.
10
Thad took a moment to relish in Ashanti Wright’s discomfort as she mumbled a string of apologies that were made even more entertaining by the fact that she obviously didn’t mean a word of it. He got the sense that being seen as unpleasant didn’t sit right with her, whereas he didn’t give two shits what anyone thought about him. Except for his grandmother and his sister.
For a brief span of time, between last Monday when he first met her and a few hours ago when she’d accused him of buying her house out from under her, he’d cared what Ashanti thought of him. The bitch of it was that he kinda still cared. He should probably work on that.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Sims?” Ashanti finally asked.
“You can call me Thad,” he said.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Can I help you?” she asked.
He tried not to wince.
He was willing to accept that Grams’s dream match between her dog sitter and her grandson would never happen,but the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to use his name stung. It’s not as if he wanted her to like him; he just didn’t want her tonotlike him.
Okay, that was a lie.
If he took the time to consider what he wanted from Ashanti, ambivalence was at the bottom of the list. Right there with a kick to the groin and a haircut to match Puddin’s.
The current state he found himself in was comically ironic, especially when he thought back to his response to the dozen or so women who had actuallywantedto get with him this past year. The appeal just hadn’t been there.
Von accused him of punishing himself, because for some reason, his friend was convinced that Thad believed he didn’t deserve joy.
Was that Ashanti’s appeal? Was he so interested because he knew he had zero chance when it came to her?
And because she was cute as hell with freckles that drove him out of his mind. That was definitely part of her appeal.
He did not have time for this introspection shit right now. And he sure as hell didn’t need to give Von’s ridiculous assessment any more air.
“Hey, so I know I said that Puddin’ wouldn’t be coming to the daycare anymore, but I was hoping you hadn’t given his spot away yet,” Thad said.
Her dog began to bark and twirl around like a chunky ballerina the minute he said Puddin’s name.
“Duchess, sit,” Ashanti ordered. The dog immediately plopped its butt on the floor.
Thad should not have found her commanding tone sexy, but apparently that’s where his brain wanted to take everything when it came to Ashanti Wright.
Impressive.That’swhat it was. He couldn’t get Puddin’ to sit on command if he promised that little asshole every dog biscuit in New Orleans.
“Are you Puddin’s new owner?” asked the teenager who had followed Ashanti into the lobby. There was a resemblance between the two. It was probably stronger than it appeared, but Thad was thrown off by the teen’s hot pink–tipped hair and matching hot pink eyeglasses and tennis shoes.
“Kara, get to school,” Ashanti said.
“Going.” She held her hands up in surrender before reaching down to pat Duchess’s head. “See you later, girl.” To Thad she said, “Please bring back Duchess’s boyfriend. She is miserable without him.” To Ashanti she said, “I’ll send you some new label designs in an hour or so.”
“No, you won’t, because you’ll be in class,” Ashanti called.
The teen held her hands up again.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ashanti asked.
“I need to put Puddin’ back in daycare. I can’t cart him around with me all day, but he barks constantly if I try to leave him at the house.”
“It’s because he isn’t used to being at home alone,” Ashanti said. “Mrs. Frances has been bringing Puddin’ here since he was a puppy, back when she was still running the dry cleaning business.”
“Yeah, I know,” Thad said. “So can he stay here?” He hooked his thumb toward the door. “I can get him out of the truck right now.”
