His dad laughed. “Felt that same way about your mom. Once she flashed those dark eyes at me, no other girl could turn my head.”
Asher’s dad leaned an elbow on his lawn chair and propped his feet on the railing in front of them. The deck was on the second floor, a set of stairs leading down to a sandy beach where a volleyball net stood. Their house wasn’t as private as Asher’s, but then they hadn’t come here looking for privacy. They’d come here to experience the season, and in the Cove, there was no better way to experience summer than a beach teeming with vacationers.
Leland Knight was still long and lean, his tattoos from back in the day faded but plentiful. He was the picture of an aging rock star, one who had gone on to become a welder by trade and an artist at heart. He crafted huge statues and sold them to people who had money to burn. Elana ran the business side of things, no slouch in the number-crunching department. His folks were perfect together. Complemented each other in a way that was both beneficial for their futures and obvious to anyone looking in.
Asher wanted that but never dreamed he’d find it. Now, despite jittering nerves at going all in, he wondered if he’d found that with Glo.
“Ready to stake your claim with the agent?” Leland slid Asher a look that said this news was a little late. “The groupie ain’t gonna like it.”
Asher shook his head. “Dad, you have to address her by her name. She’s Hawk’s mom. We owe her that much respect.”
Leland grunted but acquiesced with a, “Yeah, guess so.”
“Ash!” came a voice from the sand below. One look over and he confirmed the call came from Ricky. “Get your ass down here.”
He tossed a volleyball into the air, but before he could catch it, Fonz knocked it away. Ricky started swearing, Shiff called to Fonz that he was open, and Fonz threw the ball to Shiff.
“Idiots,” Leland said, but he did so with a smile on his scruffy face. His pop loved the band like his own kids, even though he called Ricky “the Minion” when he wasn’t around.
Ash held up a peace sign to let them know he’d be down in two minutes. Shiff threw him a nod.
“How’s the album?” Leland asked.
“Slow go.”
“Sometimes that’s how they go. Granted, I only cut two back in my day, but that second one was enough to drive me to drink.” He tipped the beer bottle to his lips, took a pull, then lowered it and added, “Never stopped.”
“Fonz is having some home life problems,” Ash told him. “Took him to task about it because I thought he cheated on Pam. She cheated on him.”
“Lotta that goes around,” his dad commented. “Don’t do that shit, Ash. Not worth it. Once you snag a good woman, there’s no greater way to break her spirit than inviting another bitch to your bed. Gloria has a spirit like a wild stallion. You don’t want to hear this, but she reminds me of your mom. She won’t take your shit.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Asher polished off his beer.
“Don’t quit going after her even when she caves, son.”
Ash dropped his beer bottle in a box for recyclables and faced his dad.
Leland sat up and shoved his sunglasses into his graying hair. “Still fightin’ for your mom. She likes to think she doesn’t need me to. She does.”
He could relate. Gloria would sooner die than allow anyone to believe she had a weak spot. She did, though. Her weak spot was Asher.
Leland tugged his T-shirt off and chucked it onto the lawn chair. “Let’s ball.”
Ash followed his dad’s lead and tugged his shirt off. Then they jogged down the stairs to the beach. On the way, Ash passed Glo and her lips curved into an appreciative smile. He gave her a wink and flexed his pecs, but kept jogging.
His dad noticed and punched him in the arm, a low chuckle echoing in his chest.
“Come on, old man. Let me show you how it’s done,” Asher told him. And then got prepared for the fight of his life. His dad may be nearing sixty, but he still had it.
Chapter 20
Gloria’s mouth went bone dry at the sight on the beach. Ricky, Fonz, and Leland were on one side of the volleyball net, while Shiff, Asher, and Connor—who, along with Faith, had been invited since Faith had taken on the task of helping to pull together some last-minute details for this event—were on the other. The men were shirtless, sweaty, and had a combined body fat of around eight percent.
The clouds decided to part about ten minutes into their game, and thanks to the sun, they’d put on their sunglasses and kicked off their shoes. That meant the six men on the beach wore one piece of clothing each—whatever style shorts they’d chosen for the party.
“It’s like a blur of tattoos and flexing muscles,” Faith mumbled next to Gloria as they leaned on the railing upstairs. “Gosh, they’re pretty.”