stopped the bullshit Ryan and Keston had to endure.”
“Smokey,” she said softly, kissing his cheek. “I don’t blame you at all for not going. Most people would’ve gone just for appearances, but that’s not you, and that’s one of the many things I admire and love about you.”
Removing one hand from the steering wheel, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. In that instant, he realized she was his everything. Her actions and words brought him solace, and just being in her presence was comforting.
Pressing his lips against her hair, he whispered, “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”
“I feel the same way,” she replied, nuzzling against his shoulder.
They drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Smokey didn’t want to be anywhere else except with her safely in his arms.
No matter what, she was his.
22
Three weeks later
Ashley waved to Mark and Gage as she pulled into the garage. Now that her stalker had been caught, she wasn’t as suspicious of them. It also helped that Smokey had checked them out and told her they were clean. Upon hearing that Mark had lost his wife of twenty years in a car accident two years before, her heart broke for him. Smokey said that after his wife’s death, Mark had sold their home and built a small cabin in a remote area. It seemed that his only companion was loneliness. A part of her felt bad for misjudging him, but a bigger part still thought he was an oddball. And he still gave her the creeps.
The problem was that Gage had the hots for Alyssa—a girl who lived at the homeless shelter. When Smokey had told her how angry Brady was about their liaison, Ashley remembered that day at Blue’s Belly when she saw the two men arguing. Since Ashley didn’t volunteer at the shelter anymore, she wasn’t sure if Alyssa and Gage were still seeing each other, and she didn’t feel comfortable asking him about it.
Ashley slammed the car door shut with her hip, juggling a bag of groceries, a briefcase, and an oversized tote. Managing not to drop anything as she turned the key in the lock, she pushed open the door. She’d stopped at the market after work and picked up a few staples for the pantry, some baking potatoes, and two steaks for Smokey. A smile spread across her lips when she thought of him. Since that first weekend she had connected with him at the biker bar, he’d been a part of her life in a very good way.
After placing the bag on the kitchen counter, she kicked off her heels, set her briefcase and tote down on the floor, and started to unpack the groceries. Determined to learn how to cook, she’d enrolled in a cooking class for beginners at the community college. She’d planned to surprise Smokey with a steak dinner, replete with twice-baked potatoes, sautéed mushrooms with garlic butter, and an iceberg wedge with creamy blue-cheese dressing, which she’d try to make homemade, but she bought a bottle of dressing in case it didn’t work out.
Nicole and Danielle had laughed their asses off when she’d told them about the culinary classes, and she couldn’t blame them. If someone would have told her six weeks ago that she’d be interested in learning how to cook, she’d have rolled her eyes. Smokey has changed a lot in my life. I can’t wait until he comes home.
The first marketing campaign had been a success, but the second one had been phenomenal, and he was busier than ever, securing contracts around the mountain towns. At the moment, he was in Grand Junction, and then he would head over to Telluride before returning home in a couple of days.
Standing on her tiptoes, Ashley put a can of beans on the top shelf of the pantry when her phone rang.
“Dammit,” she cursed as she crossed the room. Picking up the phone, she smiled. “Hi, Whitney.”
“Hi. Whatcha doing?”
“I just got home.” Over the phone, she heard music in the background, and noisy conversation. “Are you working another double?”
“Yes, and I’m sick of all these fucking people who keep calling off. Jared and I are the only two bartenders who show up when we’re scheduled.”
She put two boxes of rigatoni on the lower pantry shelf. “That sucks. I guess the only consolation is that extra money you’re making from tips.”
“That’s what I keep telling my achy feet and body. I have tomorrow off, and I’m