Third Time's a Charm (Holland Springs #3)(20)
Jason made a noise of disgust. “Sixty-five year old Patrick Johnson or his son, Junior?”
“Now I’m not one to spread gossip, but she lived with both of them,” Brenda said, shifting in her chair, then patted a stray hair back in place. “But who knows?”
“What I do know is that Summer Holland made off with five thousand dollars and Junior’s Mustang when she was done with them.” Disapproval was written all over Harrison’s face. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in that family.”
“Except Rose and Skye,” Sasha pointed out.
Harrison turned steel eyes on him, but Sasha didn’t waver. “Time will tell.”
Jason rapped his knuckles on the table, garnering everyone’s attention. He leaned forward in his chair. “Let’s focus on the issue at hand. I’ve got an idea that’s been running in my mind. Destroy her business—make people think her stuff is no good. If she doesn’t have the income to pay off her back taxes, well, she’ll have no choice but to sell.”
Brenda rose to her feet. “Either get her to sell her home the legal and honest way, or count me out of this scheme.” She left the table and headed to the front of the restaurant with her purse.
“Is she going to be a problem?” Sasha wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it beside his plate unable to force down another bite.
Harrison threw back the last of his Jack and Coke. “Brenda will come around.”
Sasha hoped to God she wouldn’t. If the deal fell through because of the mayor’s guilty conscience, then the blame couldn’t be placed on him and his mother was still safe. “I have to go.” He rose to his feet in one fluid motion. He needed a drink. Hell, he needed the whole damn bar.
Harrison and Jason looked at him in obvious surprise. “I thought we were going out after dinner,” the younger man said, then a gleam entered his eyes. “Perks of your living arrangement?”
“No, I’m meeting a friend,” Sasha said, reaching for his wallet.
Harrison held up a hand. “This is on me.”
“My thanks.” Sasha grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and shoved his arms inside, thankful for once that there hadn’t been a coat checker.
“I can give you some pointers on how to loosen her up on the way back.” Jason offered a conspiratorial smile and stood as well. He fumbled for his coat.
“Much appreciated, but not needed.” For the love of God, did this asshole ever shut up about his Rose? No, not Sasha’s Rose. She belonged to no one, especially not to him. “Gentlemen, have a fantastic evening.”
“Wait! You can’t leave me here,” Jason protested as he pulled the navy material over his shoulders.
Harrison waved him away. “Let him go. You can ride with me.”
“Fantastic,” Sasha said, then strolled through the dining room and out the entrance as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Cold October air greeted him, working its way inside his bones. Finding all of his vulnerable spots. He welcomed it. A man like him didn’t deserve warmth or softness.
He watched as couples holding hands waited for their cars. As they kissed and looked at each other with dreamy eyes and talked about their bloody feelings. They would be headed home. Together. Talking about their past and their futures.
He, too, would be headed home. To a woman whose future he had to take away.
***
It was almost three in the morning when Rose heard the back door open and close. She turned over and fluffed her pillow, watching the light of the baby monitor as it changed colors with the sounds of Sasha’s loud, clumsy movements. Something crashed to the floor and he cursed.
Drawing back the covers, she rose from the bed and made her way to the door. Opening it a crack, she listened. Another series of crashes sounded and she found herself walking to his room.
Wearing nothing but a cotton nightgown with small straps, she shivered in the cold night air and wished she’d had the presence of mind to put on her robe. The mass of curls covering her shoulders provided a thin barrier against the night’s chill. At his door, she knocked and called out, “Are you okay?”
There was no answer.
She knocked again, louder this time. “Sasha?” As she turned the knob, the door swung open so quickly that she almost stumbled inside.
Sasha loomed over her, wearing only a dark pair of jeans with the top button undone. His sculpted chest rose and fell with steady movements, nipple rings gleaming in the dim light. Washboard abs complemented lean hips as he stretched his arms above his head, grabbing the frame and leaning forward.
“There was a reason I didn’t answer you, Rose,” he said, blocking her from seeing the room.
“Why are you wearing jeans?” He didn’t strike her as a jeans kind of man.
His heated gaze traveled to her face. “Couldn’t answer the door in the buff, could I?”
He slept in the nude? Or had he brought a woman home with him? Maybe that was why he was making all that racket. He was too busy getting it on to care about not breaking her things.
He shifted to one side and she risked a peek at the bed. Nothing. Blackbeard raced past her and jumped on Sasha’s mattress, circling once before lying down. “Why does your cat think my room is his?”
Because it used to be hers. “How did you get home?”