Wherever You Go Read online

  They hadn’t been able to get new shoes or clothes for school, but none of them dared to complain.

  Mom never lost her smile, but Paisley remembered watching her dreams fall out of her eyes.

  This little shack was sorely neglected, so Paisley decided then and there that she would buy it.

  Yes, she planned to return to law. But she had taken a medical leave and needed to distance herself from her career so she could recover and find what it meant to be a woman again.

  Writing a romance novel wasn’t going as well as she had hoped, but bringing this little shack back to life in honor of Mom’s dreams was an endeavor worth exploring.

  What would be more fun than scooping ice cream for the summer?

  Paisley shared her plan with the dogs, who howled in agreement. Not one to waste any time once she had made up her mind, she began pulling weeds from around the building. Oh, yes. This would work. From what she could see through the window, all it would need was some cleaning, some paint, and possibly new appliances if the current ones didn’t work.

  She called Rogan to ask him to take a look and to line up a crew to take care of it for her.

  “I don’t think that place is for sale.” Rogan tried to talk her down from her ledge. Reed shouted out questions in the background.

  “Everything is for sale, Rogan. Everything.”

  Chapter Eight

  Asher balled his hands in fists when the realtor walked into his office.

  “I told you, I’m not interested in selling.”

  The young man, just out of realtor school or his mother’s womb, Asher wasn’t sure which, smiled with confidence and held his hands in front of him, palms upright.

  “I have a great offer for you. Please look at it, at least.”

  “Everyone in town knows I don’t plan to sell.”

  Asher had been busting his ass to move forward with his plans to open a rehab/life skills center on that property. He was so close to actually achieving the goal, he almost believed it could happen. He wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way.

  “The interested party is new to town. And she really wants the property. Would you consider subdividing?”

  “No. Now get out.”

  “She’s going to be very disappointed.”

  “Well isn’t that too darned bad?”

  Asher had been in a foul mood all week. Being pressured by some persistent wench wasn’t helping…

  Persistent wench. Out of town. Hmm…

  “Hold on, kid. What is the interested party’s name?”

  “I don’t know if I can disclose that information.”

  “I’m not asking for her medical history. Tell me her name and I’ll consider the offer.”

  “Awesome! Name is Paisley Peterson. She’s a lawyer, and hard to tell no. She’ll be thrilled that you’re considering the offer.” He jerked his cell phone out of his pocket and began typing furiously.

  “Are you writing to her?”

  “Texting, yeah.”

  “Don’t tell her my name.”

  “Okay. Why not?”

  “I want it to be a surprise. Tell her the owner will meet her at the property to discuss options.”

  “Excellent. I’ll call you to discuss times when we’re all available to meet.”

  “I want to meet with her alone.”

  The young man hesitated, his fingers poised over the tiny keyboard.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to cut you out of your commission. If we come to an agreement, I’ll make sure she pays up. And I’ll make sure she pays well.”

  A big smile swallowed the kid’s face.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “Now go harass someone else.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you for your time.”

  “Oh, no. Thank you.”

  An evil joy welled up in Asher’s chest.

  This would be fun. This would be fun, indeed.

  ***

  Asher watched her pacing back and forth from his position in the copse of trees. He wasn’t ready to reveal himself. But he didn’t mind watching her hips sway and her butt strain against the tight fabric of her slacks as she bent over to clean up twigs from around the building.

  She acted as if she already owned the place. He had heard a rumor that she had already lined up a crew to fix up the little shack.

  He hated to break it to her, but he had plans for this land. It may not happen overnight, but he was determined to create a place where people like his brother could come to heal.

  He knew the many acres he owned by the lake were prime real estate, but he didn’t need more money.

  He was a man of few dreams. He wasn’t willing to compromise on the one dream that might help the people closest to him. Or people in situations like his.

  Hopelessness was not something he’d ever wish on anyone.

  She kept checking her phone, probably wondering why he wasn’t there yet. He was three minutes late, and he had to admit that he was enjoying the powerful position of having something she wanted.

  When he had kept her waiting long enough, he strolled forward, adjusting his tie. He thought it would be fun to dress the part of professional while meeting with her to discuss the business arrangement she hoped to make.

  She plastered a fake, professional smile on her face as he approached, then held her hand out to shake his.

  He nearly laughed out loud at the shock coloring her face when she realized it was him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she sputtered, dropping her hand and hiding it behind her back as if touching him would give her leprosy.

  “A very persistent realtor told me I had someone very interested in the property.”

  She looked around as if trying to make sense of the situation.

  “What is your connection to the property?”

  “I’m the owner.”

  She studied him with the face of a statue. A miserably uncomfortable statue. Like those statues of Greek heroes who had their dicks severed from their bodies.

  “Let me get this straight. You let me believe you were an attorney. Then I find out you are a mechanic. And now you want me to believe that you own this little shack?”

  “Not just the shack. A great deal of the land surrounding the town beach, too.”

  “Who put you up to this? Is this one of those weird little pranks people play on each other in small towns?”

  “No prank.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “All mine.”

  She stared at his face, eyes narrowed. Was she waiting for him to tell her he was playing? Trying to read a lie on his face?

  Whatever it was, she eventually sighed in what sounded an awful lot like disappointment.

  Straightening her shoulders, she pulled a paper out of a slim black briefcase.

  “Very well. Here’s my offer. As you can see, I am willing to negotiate.”

  “Please allow me to pass along the sage wisdom bestowed upon me by a great mind I recently had the pleasure of speaking with.” He savored the way she chewed the inside of her lip for a moment before allowing her tongue to slip out to moisten her sassy lips. He fought the urge to step forward and offer to moisturize them for her.

  “Please enlighten me.”

  He looked over the contract she handed him, then handed it back without processing any of the numbers on the sheet.

  “You can’t afford this.”

  He had planned to walk away after throwing her own words back in her face, but the urge to stay and battle with her was too strong.

  “Okay. You got me.” She threw her hand up in surrender and rolled her eyes.

  He nodded, pleased with himself. If only he had possessed this kind of confidence in high school. He would have loved to have taken a few of those girls down a notch or two.

  She shifted back into lawyer mode.

  “If you’d look at this contract, you can see I offered to pay the full appraised value plus ten percent.”

  “That�
��s great of you, but it’s not for sale.”

  “Everything is for sale.” She smiled, nearly knocking him off his high horse and into a pile of his own manure.

  “Not everything. Some things are out of our reach. Am I right, Ms. Peterson?”

  Her hair fell over her face, but not before he caught the sadness in her eyes. Sadness that threatened a heart that tended to give too much to the people closest to him.

  He couldn’t afford to see her sadness.

  “Why do you want this place so bad?”

  “For my mom.”

  “She needs a place? Maybe I can help find someplace more suitable.”

  Paisley’s soft laugh washed over him, but it wasn’t a joyful sound.

  “No, Asher, she’s dead. I wanted to fulfill a dream of hers.”

  She backed up to an old, weathered picnic table that had withstood the elements for several seasons. Didn’t look like the sort of thing she’d subject her fancy clothes to, but the way she stared ahead told him she wasn’t truly present at that moment.

  He listened while she recounted a story from her childhood of a hardworking woman who had been screwed by a dick of an opportunist.

  Fuck.

  Double fuck.

  Double fuck with a poisoned cherry on top.

  He couldn’t give her what she wanted without compromising his own visions. He couldn’t. He had to hold strong. He had worked so hard for so fucking long.

  He waited until an uncomfortable silence grew to a canyon-sized hole in their conversation. He didn’t know how to respond to her sad story. Didn’t know how to give her everything without losing himself. Without throwing away his dreams.

  “I can’t sell to you, Pais.”

  “I know. And though I’m disappointed, I understand. You have plans, and they are just as valid as mine. Whatever they are.” She stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants.

  Asher watched intently. That ass could get him in a whole lot of trouble. But not as much trouble as his fatal weakness—empathy.

  “I can’t sell it,” he tried to stop himself from saying something incredibly stupid that he knew he’d regret, but she had a leaf stuck in her perfectly combed hair and all he wanted was to see her smile, “but I can rent it to you.”

  She studied him as if she didn’t believe him.

  “Are you saying that because of my sob story?”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “Forget it.”

  She gathered her briefcase from the ground and started toward her car.

  He ran to catch up as soon as his brain caught up to what was happening.

  She whipped around when he grasped her elbow.

  “Wait.” He reached up to pull the leaf from her hair, savoring the silkiness of her hair as he slowly removed it. A visible wave of pleasure washed over her face as he lifted his other hand to her cheek and stared into her starry eyes. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t slap him. She didn’t knee him in the balls—all things he half-expected from her. “Renting the property to you would be a wise investment for me. This land is sitting here doing nothing but raising my tax bill. I can’t sell it, but I can’t turn down a smart business deal.”

  “If we didn’t have a slightly personal relationship and I hadn’t unloaded a pitiful story on you, would you have offered the same deal?”

  He chuckled. Couldn’t help it. She had practically demanded that he sell her the property—had been relentless, in fact—and now that he offered a compromise, she was trying to talk him out of it.

  “Yes, I just wanted to screw with you first. Not screw screw, though I’d be more than happy to do that.” He stumbled over his words as Paisley’s hands flew to her hips. “I’m really bad at this.”

  “I noticed.” But she smiled.

  He would have dressed like a clown and stood on his head, juggling fireballs with his feet, to have five seconds to stare at her smile.

  “I came here with the intention of letting you believe that there was no chance that I’d do business with you. Payback for not agreeing to date me. But all along I suspected I’d extend the offer of a rental agreement.”

  The way she studied him was disconcerting. He’d never want to be on the witness stand during her cross-examination. His palms itched and his nose twitched. She’d know he was lying through his teeth.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m trying to decide whether I should slap you or kiss you.”

  How had he had a problem maintaining his erection before? Yes, he knew it had been stress. And the call he had received from his niece regarding his brother’s episode that day. But holy shit—all she had to do was say the word “kiss” and lick her lips like that, and he was ready to aim and fire.

  “Kiss. Definitely kiss.” He argued his point. “You could slap me first if it makes you feel better.”

  She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his lips. When he tried to capture her for a proper show of affection, she pulled away.

  “I know you’re full of shit—just so we’re clear. But I’m going to take advantage of your softness because I believe you’re making the right decision.”

  She removed the contract and a fancy pen from her briefcase, crossed out some parts, scribbled in some other parts, and handed it to him with the most vibrant smile he could imagine.

  She may have been asking him to sign away his soul, and he would have signed the agreement willingly. With his own blood.

  “I have the work crew scheduled for this weekend. My suppliers will be delivering products early next week. If all goes well, as I suspect it will, I should be ready to open within the next two weeks.”

  He looked up from the contract, not surprised to see her gloating grin.

  “That was a pretty ballsy move, Ms. Peterson.”

  “You don’t get far in this world without growing a giant set, do you?”

  “What if the owner wasn’t me? What if they stood a chance of going up against you and saying no?”

  “That wouldn’t happen. The part about someone standing firm, I mean.”

  He shook his head and bit back his smile. No use feeding her ego. She knew her own power, and he found that incredibly hot.

  “Congratulations, Ms. Peterson.”

  She reached out and shook his hand, maintaining eye contact. He wanted to reach over to wipe the smudged mascara from the corner of her eye, but he kind of liked seeing her a little less than perfect.

  “Oh, you need a check.”

  “That’s okay, you can get it to me later.” He shifted from one foot to another, uncomfortable accepting money from her. Yes, this was a business venture, but maybe the gentlemanly thing to do would be to give the place to her for the summer.

  What the hell did he know? Maybe giving it to her would make her feel like he didn’t consider her a business equal.

  Confusion like this was why he had remained single for so long. Maybe it was just easier to blame his busy life and his screwed up family.

  “Nonsense.”

  While he wrestled with indecision, she had already filled out a check for first month and security.

  “Do you need some help getting it ready?”

  “No. All set.” She zipped her briefcase and turned her attention back to him. “Thank you, Asher.”

  Her voice was husky and seductive, tricking his buddy into thinking she had asked him to remove his pants.

  He reined in his x-rated impulses.

  That didn’t mean that his buddy went away…

  “What are you doing this afternoon?” His question surprised him. He had to work. He could not drag her to his bed.

  “Now that I’m legally allowed to enter the building, I plan to begin the cleaning process.”

  “Keys.” Asher fumbled with the key ring he had stuck in his pocket. He removed the extra key for the shack and handed it over.

  How could the slightest brush of her fingers over his send such shock waves through his body?
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br />   “Hey, I know this is a lot to ask, but would you mind watching over my niece tonight? I have a night class thing and don’t want her left alone.”

  “A night class thing?”

  He nodded. He refused to go into detail.

  “Isn’t she a teenager?”

  He nodded again.

  “You sure are a man of many words.”

  “She doesn’t need a sitter, just someone to pop over to check in. Make sure she’s staying out of trouble.” He paused. “I don’t have any family to ask.”

  He left out the fact that he really didn’t have friends, either. Friendly acquaintances, but he was more of a nose-to-the-grindstone guy and didn’t like the give and take required to maintain relationships.

  “You’re tricky, Asher. You know that since you relented and compromised on this arrangement, the considerate thing for me to do would be to agree.”

  He didn’t hide the smile from his eyes.

  “Think of it this way. At least you share the same musical tastes.”

  “You’re so musically judgmental!” Her muscles visibly tightened and she became fiercely defensive. He had never found her more adorable. “Boy bands have a bad rap, but my favorite song is quite deep if you actually listen to it. And besides, being a professional, independent woman does not preclude me from enjoying all different types of music.”

  He swept her into his arms for a hug. He had a big test and knew he wouldn’t be able to focus if he had to worry about Izzy the whole time.

  “Thank you, Paisley.” He kissed the side of her neck and felt her body relax against his. “And please forgive me for being so judgmental.”

  Before he could make his next move, she pulled away and straightened her blouse, smoothing out the wrinkles. “I’ll take your apology under advisement. I’m gonna need some details on this night class thing, though.”

  Paisley winked, and her casual inquiry sent waves of panic coursing through him.

  “It has to do with my plans for this land.”

  “And they are?”

  As he struggled to come up with a simple and satisfying explanation, her cell phone started blaring an alarm sound.