Page 29 of Poison Pen
Without warning, I stepped close, forcing Ricki to raise her chin in order to keep looking me in the eye. Her thick hoodie had fallen off one shoulder, revealing a sexy leather top that somehow managed to show off her tits and a fair amount of skin on her stomach, too. Raising one hand, I ghosted my fingers up her arm, coming close but not actually touching her, as I traced the patterns of flowers and leaves that had haunted my dreams while I was in Pennsylvania. Making my way higher over her shoulder and up along her neck, I watched in fascination as her golden skin puckered into goosebumps wherever I neared.
“I hated every minute I spent away, Ricki,” I said, my voice coming out low and rough. “I hated it because the day we met, so much happened in such a short amount of time, but it felt like we had started something.” Tracing the tip of my finger along the shell of her ear, I brushed her thick hair back, wanting to be able to see every emotion in her eyes. The second I touched her skin, her pupils dilated, and I clenched my jaw tight to keep the victory off my face. “I had no choice but to go, but don’t for a second think that I wasn’t thinking about you the whole time, because I was.”
“Asher,” she breathed, sounding both apprehensive and turned on, for which I would be eternally grateful.
My eyes dropped to her mouth as her tongue darted out, wetting her lips that had gone dry due to her rapid breathing. Lowering my hand again, I caught her slender fingers in mine, lacing them together lightly and lifting them between us.
“I thought about you, Ricki,” I went on, wanting to make sure I was damn clear about my intentions from here on out. “I thought about how sexy you look in your boots.” At that, her eyebrows shot up, as though she was surprised that was the first thing I would say about her. “I thought about how much of a badass you were with that punk on the street.”
I neglected to mention how I had also worried about her incessantly, wondering if that shit stain had been found or if he’d come after her again. I’d even gone as far as calling Easton, but he was back in Colorado for a family wedding, so he’d been as blind to what was happening here as I was.
“And you can be damn sure I thought about this mouth,” I went on, moving our joined hands toward her and extending one of my fingers to trace lightly along her full lower lip. “About how incredibly hot it is when you’re throwing shade at me, but especially,” I paused, lowering my face to hers slowly, giving her ample time to pull away.
She didn’t.
“I especially thought about how sinfully good you taste.”
Ricki released a soft moan at my words, and I couldn’t hold back the grin this time.
“So, Ricki, when I ask you if you missed me as much as I missed you, what will your answer be now?”
I watched in triumph as Ricki’s eyes slowly drifted closed, her free hand coming up to clasp my bicep, as she lifted up on her toes in an effort to press her lips to mine. We had barely connected—her warm, floral scent invading my brain and giving me a buzz better than a shot of whiskey—when the door to the tattoo shop flew open and a blond tornado stormed in.
“That absolute asshole!” shouted the woman who had just ruined what was likely going to be the best kiss of my life, her gaze fixed on her phone as Ricki darted away from me as fast as she could.
“That complete, unbelievable, self-absorbed, stupid assho-ho-holy snappin’ horseflies,” she trailed off at the sight of me, standing in the center of the shop, once again trying to conceal a boner.
“Ricki?” the woman asked, not taking her eyes off me for a second. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Letting out a sigh, Ricki stepped even farther away from me before she answered her friend.
“Violet, this is Asher Dunn. Asher, Violet. My best friend and roommate. Well...” She frowned, looking frustrated. “I guess former roommate.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” I lied. But not really. Itwasa pleasure to meet someone Ricki cared about, even if her timing was terrible.
Maybe that was a best friend thing? Easton had a habit of ruining moments for me, too, now that I thought about it.
“Oh,” Violet said, her eyes darting to Ricki and giving her a very pointed stare. “You’rethatAsher.”
When I smirked at Ricki—her best friend’s comment proof that maybe she’d missed me at least a little—Ricki huffed, and rolled her eyes.
“She means the whiskey guy.”
“Right. That’s me. The whiskey guy.”
“You’re opening the place next door, right?” Violet asked, her head tilting to the side like a cute little poodle. Without giving me a chance to answer, she continued, “I can’t wait to try it. When are you opening? Can I see a menu yet? I hope you have potato skins.”
For a second, I could only stare at her, trying to remember which question she’d asked first, and which she actually expected me to answer. But before I could say anything at all, the door opened yet again, and this time, a man in a suit entered, looking all kinds of uncomfortable, standing there holding a leash, which lead down to...a goat?
Chapter sixteen
Ricki
“Miss?”
How Archie managed to somehow pack what felt like a hundred years of ingrained condescension into one little word, I’d never know. As it was, he stood in my shop, nose in the air, looking like he smelled something foul.
Which he for damn sure didn’t, because the skull shaped diffuser on the window ledge was quietly puffing away, filling the place with the delicate aroma of citrus and bergamot. Denise, who worked at the bodega down the street but also did palm and tarot card readings, assured me that the combination would allow me to stay focused and serene.