Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(26)

“Ashby,” Kiefer said, like he was rolling his name around on his tongue. “Well, I can safely say we don’t get gentlemen of your caliber around here very often. Your accent’s as delightful as your name is, darlin’.”

Ashby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You come here on holiday a lot, I take it?”

Kiefer snickered quietly, like Ashby had said something hilarious. It made him feel self-conscious. “Naw, darlin’,” he said, sliding his gaze over Ashby’s form. “I own this little establishment.”

Ashby’s eyes went wide despite himself. He almost asked why on Earth someone with his obvious wealth and style had let the place get so terribly dilapidated. But he found he didn’t want to engage this man in any further conversation than was absolutely necessary.

Instead, he glanced at Bob. He hadn’t acknowledged Kiefer’s arrival in any way.

“Oh, I’m not usually here on the ground,” Kiefer said with a chuckle. “Not really my scene. I see what you’re thinking, though.” He wagged his finger toward Ashby. “This place ain’t exactly looking its best. I let certain things-” he glanced at poor old Bob “-get out of hand. But I’m taking care of that now.”

He paused while Darnell placed two drinks in front of them. One was a whiskey. The other was another Long Island Iced Tea. Ashby felt his eyes widen at the prospect of a second strong cocktail before eating anything. “Oh, is that for me?” he squeaked.

Kiefer winked. “I said I’d entertain you.”

He picked up the whiskey Darnell had known to make him without actually saying any words. While he sipped it, he continued to observe Ashby over the rim of the tumbler.

Ashby swallowed. “Thank you,” he said, not really meaning it.

“So,” Kiefer said. He was leaning in just a little too close for Ashby’s liking. “Who’s this friend of yours?” A finger from his free hand touched Ashby’s knee.

Ashby ground his teeth. He should tell this guy to fuck off. Who cared if he owned the place? Ashby wasn’t impressed by money. His family was probably just as rich as this guy was, for crying out loud.

But where could Ashby go? He wanted to meet Trent, but more to the point, he needed to eat and there wasn’t anywhere else in the resort to go.

“Just a friend,” he said, keeping his voice pleasant. He couldn’t really risk pissing off this guy if he was going to be hanging around for the time being. If Ashby was lucky, this was just a quick visit. Then hopefully their paths wouldn’t cross again. But he had to be careful.

He recalled how earlier he was lamenting that not enough in his life scared him. How he wished he could take that back now. He got the feeling that this was the kind of man who could not only find out what room Ashby was staying in but possibly also get himself a key.

The only thing he could think to do was to smile sweetly at Kiefer and take another sip of his drink. His head was starting to swim.

“Just a friend,” Kiefer repeated. “Well, that’s good to hear. How many of these friends are you on vacation with?”

“Oh, no, I’m here alone,” said Ashby before he could really think about lying. Damn that drink.

Kiefer’s smile grew another few millimeters on one side. “Is that so?”

He took another swig of his whiskey, licking his lips as he carefully placed the glass back down. He then shifted even closer and Ashby could feel his breath on his cheek as Kiefer placed his hand on Ashby’s knee again. This time it stayed there. He tilted his head so the Stetson blocked their faces from the view of the rest of the bar behind them.

“Why don’t I whisk you off somewhere worthy of your gorgeous lil’ self, huh?” he murmured. “We could hit the Aspen scene, have some real fun. I can guarantee I’ll show you a good time. The best.”

Get off, get off, get off! Ashby screamed in his mind. He tried his best not to tremble and show how repulsed he was, but he couldn’t help but grimace and shut his eyes. He had to get out of this situation as fast as possible, but he had to be clever and safe about it. How could he refuse though?

“Babe!” a warm and glorious voice called out over the bar. Kiefer pulled away. Ashby released the breath he’d been holding and opened his screwed-up eyes to take in the most welcome sight of Trent striding towards him and Kiefer. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” He marched right up to Ashby, ignoring Kiefer, and leaned in to kiss Ashby on the cheek. He briefly caressed Ashby’s neck, and only then turned to look at Kiefer. “Hi?”

Ashby tried not to sag in relief too much. He felt dizzy from Trent’s intimate touch but more off-kilter from the surprise rescue. “Hello, sweetie,” he said, doing his best to sound like he said that every day. “This is Kiefer Burton. He owns the resort.”

Trent remained standing, hugging Ashby close to him. Ashby wrapped his own arm around Trent’s waist, squeezing his hip in what he hoped was a silent signal. Thank you! Get me the fuck out of here!

“Mr. Burton,” Trent said flatly. He glanced down at Ashby’s two drinks. “You ready for dinner, babe?”

Ashby sighed, trying to disguise his relief as remorse. “I am so sorry,” he said cheerfully to Kiefer, “but we’ve not seen each other all day. I hope I’ll see you around.” His smile was probably veering toward simpering, but he didn’t care. He stood, intending to leave his cocktails behind. He’d just order more from Darnell to make up for it over dinner. “Thank you so much for keeping me company.”