Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(47)

“Excuse me?” Appletini dude asked, seeming affronted.

Asher stepped forward, not saying a word. Then again, when your muscles bulged out of your tee shirt, your jaw could cut a bitch and your cut communicated your connection to a well-known motorcycle club, maybe you didn’t need words.

My guess was confirmed as soon Appletini paled, darted his eyes to me, then pushed through the crowd.

Skye, who had been watching the whole exchange, darted her eyes between Asher and me.

“You know this dude, Lily?” she whispered to me, despite Asher stepping up to the bar, well within earshot.

I let out a little giggle. One that sounded foreign to my own ears. I didn’t giggle. Well, not until recently.

“You could say that,” I replied, not taking my eyes off him.

Skye looked generally amazed. I guess I couldn’t blame her, she knew the before Lily. The before Lily didn’t giggle, didn’t take shots on shift, and she certainly didn’t have hot bikers visit her and scare off men asking for numbers.

“Skye, Asher, Asher, Skye,” I introduced, filling the silence.

Asher gave her a chin lift.

Her mouth was still agape so she managed a little wave.

Asher turned his focus back to me. His brows were knitted as he took in my outfit. Again, this was something new Lily chose. It was conductive with the outfits I’d been wearing for two weeks. Tonight, I’d gone for tight jeans, heels and a cropped top which showed off a lot of midriff. His gaze flickered with desire when he finished his top to toe inspection, though his jaw was tight.

“You’re early,” I pointed out, leaning against my side of the bar. It helped stop the swaying.

Asher frowned. “Yeah,” was all he said.

“You want a drink?” I asked finally after he didn’t give me more of an explanation.

“Yeah. Beer please, babe,” he replied, his voice soft, even though he had to raise it to be heard over the music.

I handed him a beer, the brand I knew he liked, what I had seen him drink the limited times I’d been in his presence. Those torturous times in the beginning when Gwen or Amy had dragged me along to some gathering he’d be at. Where I’d have to put on my mask of indifference and pretend my heart didn’t bleed every time his chocolate eyes touched mine. I shook myself out of the past and the demons it held. The present had enough for me to battle with.

“You didn’t have to pick me up,” I told him after he’d taken a pull of his beer.

He regarded me. “Yeah, I did, flower,” he replied tightly.

I chewed my lip, not knowing what else to say. We didn’t exactly do small talk, which the only kind of talk we could have in a crowded bar.

He frowned, eyes on my lips. Without warning, his beer crashed down on the bar, and his hand tagged the back of my neck. His mouth fastened on mine before I knew what was going on. He kissed the ever living hell out of me for long enough that a few catcalls sounded in the distance. I say the distance because the background seemed to melt away with Asher’s lips on mine.

He finally released me and rested his forehead on mine before he let me go and leaned back on his stool, taking another pull of his beer.

I gaped at him, touching my tingling lips absently. “What was that for?” I strangled out.

Asher’s desire-filled gaze rooted me to the spot. “I wanted to kiss you,” he said simply.

My gape stayed firmly in place until I jumped when my name was called.

“I’ve got to....” I gestured with my thumb.

Asher nodded tightly. “I’m not going anywhere, babe,” he told me firmly.

I stared at him a second longer, then rushed to the other end of the bar, feeling his eyes on me. They didn’t leave me for the whole night.





“Bye,” I shouted to the girls and Jude who watched Asher, and I leave with something akin to amazement.

He wove us through the crowd effortlessly, though most people, drunk or sober seemed to move for him anyway. It might be close to closing, but the place was packed. Always was. Jude had let me go home early with a soft look on her usually hard face.

“You get some sleep, darlin’. You need it,” she had rasped and squeezed my hand. That was the closest to kind and fuzzy my tough as nails manager got. She wasn’t unkind, just brisk but fair.

Asher had seemed more than happy to drag me off. The only reason I managed to stay upright was because of the firm hand at my waist. I didn’t think much about anything else, apart from the warmth that emanated from his hand, and the desire that intensified with his touch. We made it into the parking lot, which was well lit and mostly empty. A few people loitered around, smoking or waiting for taxis, I guessed.

“Asher, can we slow to a brisk walk? I’ve been on my feet all night, I’m not really prepared to break the land speed record to make it to your bike.” I pulled back slightly, surprised at the fact I was slurring my words slightly.

Asher stopped us completely and twisted so he faced me, both his hands went to my waist and he looked down at me. No, he glared at me.

“You’re drunk again,” he stated flatly, his jaw hard.

I squinted at him. “No, I would use the term appropriately liquored,” I answered with a grin. Although, without the lack of noise and tasks to distract me, coupled with the fact I was seeing two of him, I realized Asher might have been closer to correct.