“Probably not to everyone. You hide it pretty well. But I’m crazy about my husband, so I notice.”
I sighed. “Who wouldn’t be attracted to Asher? He’s hot, and we’re getting to know each other a little better. His communication sucks sometimes, but he’s a good man.”
“I noticed,” Reese answered. “He didn’t have to offer to fix Silas’s dishwasher. That was really thoughtful.”
“Believe it or not, he can be a thoughtful guy, but he hides it well,” I informed her.
“Really well,” she agreed. “But I think I’m starting to see a part of Asher that I didn’t know existed. He was worried about you when you were in the middle of your migraine. That phone call from him threw me for a loop.”
“He worries about me,” I admitted. “That doesn’t feel normal to me most of the time.”
“Bad relationships?” she asked empathetically.
“Yes,” I replied simply.
“It’s a little overwhelming at first, but it’s incredible once you get used to it.”
“Asher and I aren’t romantic like you and Devon,” I assured her in a rush. “I think we’re becoming…friends.”
He might be my hottest sexual fantasy, but that was never going to happen.
Reese smirked. “No offense, but Asher doesn’t look at you like a friend. He looks at you like a woman he wants to get naked. Desperately. You look at him the same way.”
I sighed. “I’m attracted to him, and I think he might be physically attracted to me, but the timing isn’t good. My life is…complicated. And Asher has other priorities right now.”
“Does he?” she asked in a teasing voice. “Because he looks like exploring that attraction might be a really big priority for him.”
“He’s my boss, Reese, and he’s helping me a lot. I’m going to be able to save a lot of money when I’m living with him, and he’s paying me a very good salary for what I do on the ranch. I don’t want to screw that up. He’s starting to trust me, and that trust means a lot to me.”
“I get that,” she said. “But what happens if you fall for him someday?”
I shook my head adamantly. “I won’t. I’m not looking for a relationship or for love. That hasn’t been on my radar for a long time. I live in the real world.”
“Has it been that bad?” she asked softly. “You sound like a woman who’s been hurt pretty badly.”
“I’ve learned a lot of lessons the hard way,” I replied. “I don’t ever want to go there again.”
“If you ever want to talk about it—”
“I don’t,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve been trying to leave my past behind. Some really bad things happened, Reese. I made some bad decisions. I’m trying to get my life together again. I’m an artist. Right now, I’m mostly an out-of-work artist, but I had a good career as a children’s book illustrator at one time. I’m doing my best to reestablish that career.”
Reese’s eyes widened. “You and Millie have a lot in common.”
I snorted. “Millie Remington is a master artist and a legend. I do watercolor illustrations.”
Millie Remington was famous, probably the most sought-after Western artist on the planet.
She shrugged. “Does it matter? You both have a passion for art.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, because it was true.
Iwaspassionate about my art.
“Can I see your work?” Reese asked.
I gave her my website and she brought it up on her phone.
We were quiet for a few minutes as Reese studied my illustrations.
