Page 36 of On One Condition

He cups the side of my face and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. It’s a simple act and yet his touch alone ignites every nerve ending in my body. His eyes are on mine, asking, wanting, pleading.

“Ash,” he whispers, and my heart leaps. My name on his lips. Is it possible to miss a sound? If so, I didn’t realize how much I did until right now.

He leans in as time suspends and—

“In the game closet.” We jump apart seconds before the orderly, who I presume made that statement, clears the doorway and walks into said closet. Ledger coughs into his hand to hide his smile.

“Mr. Sharpe?”

“Yes,” he says, turning to face her as I continue fussing with the box of checkers as if the lid of the box isn’t on properly. My heart’s hammering rapidly, and I’m not sure if it’s because of him or my fear that one of Gran’s caretakers might think I’m fooling around in here.

“Helen wanted to ask you a few more questions since she saw you were still here,” the orderly says, referring to the facility director.

“Great.” He smiles. “I’ll be happy to answer them.” He takes a few steps toward the door before looking back at me. Mischief sparks in his eyes. “Community outreach.”

“What?”

“What I’m doing here. Community outreach.” His eyes run up and down the entire length of my body, and I swear I can almost feel his gaze as he does.

And without another word, he walks out of the closet leaving me staring after him.

My fingers automatically go to my lips wishing he’d kissed me. Wishing I knew what he tasted like. Wanting to be reminded what it felt like again.

Ledger Sharpe was a caring lover the first and only time we were together.

Was that just because it was the first time? Is he still like that with the added finesse of years of practice?

I lean against the wall and bury my head in my hands.

When have I ever thought shit like this?

Go away, Ledger.

Go away and leave me to my boring life and unpredictable, sometimes fulfilling sex life.

I’m supposed to be angry at you.

I’m supposed to stick to my guns.

But, Jesus.

You’re better than the memory of you ever was.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ledger

With a sigh, I pull into the driveway of my rental. It’s simple, with its basic gray clapboard siding and flowers lining the path to the front door, but like I told Ford, it could be way worse.

But there’s a reason I’m sitting in my car staring at the house. And it happens to be the same reason I drove back and forth down Main Street twice on the way home.

Asher.

The woman has eluded me. I went to the farm the other day, but when I knocked on the door, there was no answer. Then on the way home just now, I thought I saw her walking on the sidewalk and talking to someone in front of the hardware store. I figured I’d make a convenient stop and “accidentally” run into her, since I can’t get her out of my head. But on the second pass by, I was clearly seeing things that weren’t there.

You’re losing it, Ledge.

“Clearly small-town life is making you crazy,” I mutter as I climb out and around to my passenger door to grab my laptop and files.