Charlie had nothing to worry about. It never happened.
Ev may be hot, but he felt more like a brother than boyfriend potential. She’d known it the moment his lips hit hers—one drunkish kiss in Chicago a hundred years ago, before he and Charlie were ever a thing. Gloria and Evan had sobered on contact. Yikes. Platonic was the only way when it came to Evan Downey.
Nothing at all like the electric shock that vibrated the air in her office earlier when Asher Knight stood close to her. If only she could slot him into the “platonic” category as well. But of course not. Instead, everything about him drew her in. His dark eyes, sexy tattoos, even his adorable dog.
And he wants you in a way that parallels how much you want him.
Anyway.
Once Charlie learned that Gloria had zero romantic interest in Evan, they became fast friends, and the bond had only strengthened. Glo didn’t make girlfriends easily, so making a long-lasting one was a bonus she hadn’t seen coming.
She glanced out to the deck where Asher was gesturing with both hands—telling who knew what kind of tall tale. Evan stood, face lit by the fire bowl in front of them, and threw his dark head back to laugh. Asher laughed, too, a genuine, easygoing laugh that made him look gorgeous and approachable and like the very man she wanted to run out and throw her arms around.
She hated that.
Glo dumped a bag of shredded carrots into a large salad bowl as Charlie added a container of baby tomatoes.
“What are those two yammering about?” Charlie asked, tossing the leaves and vegetables together with a pair of wooden tongs.
“Who knows.” Gloria leaned a hip on the counter and reached for her wineglass, taking a hearty sip of the red before noticing Charlie’s huge hazel eyes on her, drilling a hole through her head.
“What? Do I have purple teeth already?”
“No. It’s not…” Charlie shook her head. “It’s just…” Those huge eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is there something still going on between you two?”
“Me and Evan?” she joked. “Of course not, honey.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, suggesting she wasn’t in the mood to play.
“I didn’t think that was going to work,” Glo grumbled. “You mean Asher.”
“Of course I mean Asher.” She set the tongs aside. “Since he arrived here, you’ve been…I don’t know. Circling each other.”
Wasn’t that the truth. Gloria shrugged and prepared to insert some distance. That was her way. She and Charlie were friends, but it didn’t mean Glo had to let her in all the way. Getting close to someone risked heartbreak when they left.
And they always left.
Charlie had said she used to feel the same way before she and Evan fell in love. That shared belief was one of the things she and Glo had in common. But Glo still found herself holding back, out of habit or maybe self-preservation. Or both.
Asher was a prime example of how getting close was a bad idea. If she’d never gone to bed with him, then he could have slept with all the Jordans he wanted and she couldn’t have cared less. He could’ve repopulated the planet with groupie babies. But, no. She’d crossed the line. She’d let him kiss her. Then kissed him back.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Uh-huh.” Charlie set the salad aside, not sounding the least bit convinced.
Gloria lifted a tray filled with buffalo burgers and veggie patties and a few hot dogs for the grill. Lyon came barreling out of his bedroom right then, Tank hot on his heels.
“Mom!” Lyon may be Charlie’s stepson, but he was one hundred percent hers. The whole “Mom” thing? Totally his idea. “We need a dog!”
“You have a fish.” She smiled, then said from the side of her mouth, “Terror the Third.” Yeah, they’d gone through a few Starving Artist Fair fishes since the original Terror went to the big aquarium in the sky.
“Fish can’t fetch.” Lyon had bronze skin, wild curly hair (“like his mom’s,” Charlie always said of her late best friend), and striking turquoise eyes. The eyes were all Evan. Gloria had once told Lyon he’d grow up to be “hot with two Ts” like his daddy, and even in his gangly preteen years, she couldn’t take it back. Mark her words, the kid was going to be a looker.
“He makes a good point,” Gloria put in. “You should get a big dog, though. One that’s sturdier than a Yorkshire terrier.”
“Tank’s sturdy.” A raspy, low voice washed over her and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Asher. Showing no concern for personal space whatsoever, he stood directly behind her, pressing his chest against her back as he reached around to snag a tomato from the salad bowl. “He’s all dog, aren’t you, buddy?”
Tank yipped his confirmation.
Asher ate the tomato, sliding his gaze to Gloria and then peeling his body away from her. Before her brains could leak out of her ears and she did something horrifying, like swoon, she went on the offensive.
“What BS were you telling Evan out there?” she asked.