“Two.” The rage was gone…or maybe it’d transferred to her. He looked completely collected and in control of his faculties.
A low growl left her throat. Asher wasn’t wavering, and he wasn’t his happy, easy, jokey self. He was thoroughly serious.
“Our friends were married today, Glo.”
“I know that,” she mumbled, resisting the urge to grind the tip of her shoe into the grass. Was he trying to point out she was being selfish?
“Their reception is going on as we speak. I’m taking the mic in a few minutes to sing ‘Unchained.’”
Of course he was. Asher would trot out any act his friends asked, because that’s the kind of guy he was. Bad boy. Good man.
“I only have a few minutes, so you cooperating instead of being a pain in the ass would be helpful,” he said.
“I’m not a pain in the ass!”
“Three.” He let loose a weary smile. “Sarge. Out with it.”
She swallowed, feeling overwhelmed and too warm, even standing in the shade of the tree, a breeze blowing. She adjusted the clutch under her arm, fiddled with the rings on her fingers, and decided how best to tell him how full her head was. How full her heart was. How everyone and everything lining up was beginning to feel like she was smothering beneath a ten-ton mattress.
Instead, she blurted, “I can’t do this.”
His head jerked like he’d been slapped. “What this?”
“This this.” She lifted her arms and dropped them helplessly. “Us, Ash. My God! Sofie and her stupid fresh-start candles.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Now he looked angry. Earlier when they were dancing and Gloria explained what the symbolism was for, he looked happy. Which was the point. Asher needed to be happy. What if she couldn’t make him happy?
“I don’t know what I’m doing! I see everyone settling down, pairing up. Having”—she swallowed thickly and eked out the word—“families. I’m going to fail but this time it won’t just be me in the wreckage. I can handle being in the wreckage. I’ve put myself together more times than I can count.” She swallowed past another thick ball of emotion. “I won’t take you down with me, Asher. I won’t take Hawk down with me. Trust me, you don’t want to risk—”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips were so gentle, her eyes closed. He held his mouth over hers for a few lingering seconds and then pulled away. “Is there a time you’re ever not in your head, Sarge?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“By my count”—he lifted his knuckles to her cheek—“You’re up to eight.”
Chapter 26
She was scared. He could see the fear on her face, broadcast from the worried sea of blue in her eyes. He could see it in her goddamn body language. Gloria stood, knees pressed together, shoulders under her ears. Like if she let go of the control strung through her body like cables, she’d collapse.
His girl.
She wasn’t in full-on meltdown mode, but she was close. He wasn’t going to let her get away with this, not any of it.
“I screwed up,” he said.
Her eyebrows lifted into her black bangs.
“When I met you, I thought for sure you and I were gonna burn hot and heavy a few times and then fizzle out.”
The first time he’d laid eyes on the curvy, modern-day pinup girl, his cock had stood on end. When she’d put that soft palm in his and introduced herself, he’d sent Evan a sideways glance that asked, How have you not begged this one to go to bed with you yet?
“I knew your type,” he continued. “Businesswoman looking for a tumble with a guy she didn’t have to commit to. I figured you were off a bad relationship or a marriage. Needed a rebound. I knew you didn’t have kids, which also made you perfect for me.”
He had her attention. Blue eyes held his and he just kept right on going.
“You liked me. Stroked my ego and stroked my cock and sucked it, too, and all of that worked for me.” Once he’d dug beneath the outer layer of Gloria, he learned there was a whole lot more to her than he’d assumed. Smart. Sassy. Shrewd. And just a little broken. Then she’d shown her vulnerability dressed up like haughty anger, and he’d let her scare him off.
“I screwed up,” he repeated, “when I let you go. You came at me with all this sass and the sharpest, barbed accusations I’ve ever heard, and I didn’t fight for you. I thought to myself, ‘Who needs the trouble?’ Because I’ve long been a big proponent of easy.”
Sadness crept in as the fear crept out. That was it. Her biggest fear. That she was too much trouble for anyone to love. He’d learned that about her and had baited her to this very point.