Page 46 of Smokey's Distraction
Throttle tipped his head. “Will do.”
Making his way down the hallway to the back porch, he walked out into the quiet early evening. The only sounds that could be heard were the low hums of conversations coming from the clubhouse and the gentle rush of the river. Aspen and pine trees lined the shore, unmoving against the sunlight, their branches reaching a hundred feet into the air.
Smokey strolled down to the bank and squinted against the shimmering water, reflecting shades of blue and shadowy greens. He sat down on the grass and stared at the thin weeds swaying in the river’s current.
He thought of Ryan, who’d been the weakest and most vulnerable of all his brothers. He thought of his father, the man who’d made their lives miserable by ruling the household with a heavy hand.
Leaning back on his hands, he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as he then thought of his mother, who had never defended Ryan or any of them against their father’s abuse.Mom never tried to stop the bastard when he was beating on Ryan or Nick, or any of us. Never said a fuckin’ word.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw as images of the past crept to the forefront of his mind—dark memories he wanted dead, but still harbored. Most of the time, he sheltered them to the remote corners of his consciousness, but sometimes they crawled out before he could stop them.
“Fuck!” Smokey straightened, picked up a rock, and pitched it into the water.
Then, just as suddenly as the images materialized, they disappeared when Ashley’s face took their place, and a slow smile spread across his lips as the reminder of their kiss filled his senses. Her lips were so damn soft. He’d expected her to pull away and give him a good slap across the face, but she didn’t. Instead, she’d leaned in, pressing her tits against his arm and chest, her thigh against his. Her surrender had surprised and inflamed him, and it took sheer willpower to pull away instead of crushing her to him.
Part of him was pissed that he’d crossed the line, but another part was shocked she’d had such an effect on him. Women came and went in his life, and that’s the way he liked it. But Ashley? Well, she was a different story, and it irked the hell out of him that he was spending way too much time thinking about her. There was no denying he’d been attracted to her ever since he’d seen her at Blue’s Belly, but that wasn’t unusual for him—he liked pretty woman. But there’d been something more, something he didn’t feel with other women. From the first moment their eyes had locked, he’d been drawn to her.Drawn to her?What the hell was up with that?He couldn’t figure out what it even meant, but it was powerful, and he had to stop that shit from going any further—ASAP.
“I’m acting like a damn pussy,” he mumbled while pulling the cell phone from his pocket and plugging in her number, wanting to make sure she was safe. The time that Pearl had driven home in a blizzard, he’d called her to make sure she’d made it home all right, because he was just that kind of boss. Yeah, that was what he was going with.
“Hello?” Ashley answered.
“Hey. I just called to make sure you’re doing okay.”
There was a brief pause before she replied with, “I’m good, thanks.” He heard papers rustling in the background. “I owe you big time. Zach put in an alarm system, and I know you talked him into it.”
“Just happy you have one. Did you get a new tire?”
“Yes. I went to that place you suggested—they’re great.”
“Any other weird shit happen to you since last night?”
A small sigh carried through the line. “I’m fine, really.”
“Are you home now?”
“Actually, I’m just leaving work.”
“That’s dedication.”
She giggled. “Or I’m a workaholic.”
“In that case, why don’t we meet up on Saturday to go over the campaigns you prepared?” Smokey scrubbed a hand over his face.What’s my fuckin’ problem? I’m asking her outagain? Shit.Pounding a fist against the grass, he rose to his feet.
“It’s the weekend,” she replied.
A dry laugh rose from his belly to his throat. “You said you’re a workaholic.”
“True. But we have an appointment to go over it all on Monday.”
“It seemed as if you thought I’d dissed you this week, and I’m just trying to show you I wasn’t.”
“Would you ask Pearl, Georgia, or any of the other women in the office to meet you on a Saturday?” Before he could respond, she added, “I just don’t want to be treated any differently than the others.”
“You’re not. Pearl has worked plenty of Saturdays—ask her husband sometime. And my crew and I work a lot of weekends to finish up a job. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, so forget about it,” he said, irritation pricking at him.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m at it again, overthinking everything. Normally, I don’t have a problem working on weekends, but this Saturday, I’d planned to take advantage of the mild weather and go for a ride.”
“A ride?”
