She finally releases him and brushes past, giving me a little wave. “End of the week, Eva. Think about it!” Then she’s gone, leaving a cloud of perfume and a ringing silence in her wake.
Asher limps inside, looking rattled. “What was that about?”
“She wants to buy the property.”
His face folds inward like a spoon. “She what?”
“She made me an offer to buy Pierce Acres.” I gesture at the paper still sitting on my kitchen table. “More than Lionel suggested I’d get for the place.”
Asher doesn’t move toward the paper. “Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know. I just found out five minutes ago.”
“But you’re considering it.”
“I’m—” I stop, frustrated. “Why do you care?” The words come out sharper than I intended. I see them land, watch him flinch. Good, some petty part of me thinks. Let him feel it.
But then I think about Ginny’s hand on his arm. The way she looked at him, all bright smiles and strategic touches.
“She was flirting with you,” I blurt.
Asher blinks. “What?”
“Ginny. Just now. She was…” I gesture inarticulately. “Touching your arm. Laughing. Doing the whole…” I make a face that’s supposed to convey flirtatious behavior but probably just makes me look constipated.
“I didn’t notice.”
“How could you not notice? She was practically climbing you like a tree.”
“She’s like that with all men.”
I’m pacing the room, too distracted to really feel the impact of his response. “She made a generous offer. It’s exactly what I was planning to do—sell the place. Move back home. Easy.”
“Is that what you want?”
The question stops me mid-pace. “What?”
“If it’s such a good offer, and selling was always the plan, why are you still thinking about it?” Asher’s voice is quiet, his expression intense. “Why haven’t you already signed?”
I don’t have an answer. Or I do, but I’m not ready to say it out loud. “Why are you here, Asher?”
He seems to remember he’s here for a purpose. He pulls a cardboard coaster from his pocket and sets it on the table next to Ginny’s offer.
“I went out last night, and the guy who owns Tiddy’s bar mentioned needing help with marketing. I told him I knew someone.” Asher scratches at his hairline, causing his T-shirt to ride up, exposing a bit of hairy flat stomach I’m suddenly very interested in petting.
I stare at the faded coaster. “You told him about me?”
“You’re good at this stuff. He needs help. It seemed…” He shrugs awkwardly. “Useful.” Something cracks open in my heart. This grumpy, closed-off man went to a bar—which he apparently never does—and thought of me.
“That’s really thoughtful,” I say softly. We stare at each other. The air feels thick, charged, like the moment before a storm breaks. I step closer to him. “You hobbled all the way over here in a boot to bring me a coaster after you told someone I might help their business?”
His jaw tightens. “Can you? Help him, I mean.”
He looks at me like he wants me to stay, to help Tiddy and renovate this property myself… and perhaps make out with him and rub that hairy body all over mine.
Gah!
“I don’t know,” I blurt. “I don’t know anything.”
