Chapter 3
Rylie’s heart continued to pound, even as Dustin’s hands slipped away from her arms. She nervously tucked a stray hair behind her ear and stepped away from him unsteadily. Not because of her ankle, which throbbed and ached, but because of what she’d felt pressed against Dustin’s front. He’d been excited to have her there and just the knowledge of that had been a rush.
Come on, he’s a horn dog. Any ass will do. Besides, I have Asher.
It was probably a bad sign that she had to keep reminding herself about her live-in boyfriend.
“Should we continue?” Toni asked.
Rylie’s face warmed, irrationally worried the older woman could read her thoughts. “Yes, sorry. I normally change my shoes when I scout locations, but I forgot today.” Probably because she’d been so thrown about being paired with Dustin.
As they continued the tour, Rylie discreetly checked out the front of Dustin’s trousers and could still see the evidence of his excitement pressing against the gray fabric. From the look and shape of it, it was no wonder so many women had no problem hopping into bed with him.
I am going to hell.
“You sure you’re okay?” Dustin asked quietly.
Rylie’s gaze shot up to meet his. His smile was wide, bright, and sexy as hell.
Oh, God, did he know that she was scoping out his package?
“Yeah, I’m good.”
The rest of the tour, Rylie avoided looking Dustin’s way as much as possible. When they finally got back to the car an hour later, she stared out the window as he backed up and headed down the driveway to Highway 16.
“I don’t think it will fit,” he said.
Rylie whirled toward him. “What?”
He glanced away from the road to shoot her a quizzical look. “Heart and Soul. I don’t think it will be a good fit for the wedding.”
Oh, God, why couldn’t she seem to drag her mind out of the gutter? “Oh. Yeah, yeah, I agree.”
“What did you think I meant?”
His handsome face had split into a grin, and she thought her face would catch fire. “Nothing, I was just deep in thought.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She glared at him. “What? What did you think I thought you meant?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of hazarding a guess, Miss Templeton.”
He was messing with her. She knew there was no way he could know that her first thought had been downright naughty, but still, his tone suggested he suspected.
“Where are we headed next?” she said, changing the subject.
“I thought we’d head back to the office and get a change of shoes for you.”
“They aren’t there. I forgot to pack them today, since I didn’t have any plans to walk all over a bunch of venues.”
“That’s okay, we’ll just swing by your place and grab some.”
Rylie’s heart skidded as she glanced at the clock. Asher probably wouldn’t be home, but she could just imagine the fight that would erupt if she showed up with Dustin and he was there.
“That’s okay, I can make it in these.”
Dustin glanced over at her doubtfully. “No, you can’t. Those are not functional shoes. Those are meant to look pretty and give men impure thoughts.”
Just the mention of impure thoughts made her want to crawl under the seat and die.
“God, do you have to do that?” she snapped.
“Do what?” He seemed genuinely surprised by her reaction.
“Do you always have to talk dirty?”
A rich chuckle escaped him and she hated that she clenched her thighs together as the low rumble swept over her.
“Believe me, when I talk dirty, you won’t want me to stop.”
Rylie punched him in the arm before she could stop herself, and he yelled, swerving.
“Ow, I was kidding!”
Her knuckles throbbed. She hadn’t quite expected him to be that muscular. “No, that’s sexual harassment!”
“And you just assaulted me!” he sputtered.
“You’re lucky I didn’t assault you with my heel.”
That grin was back and she held up a finger. “Do. Not. Say. It.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sinking back into the passenger seat, she sighed. “I should change my clothes too. One wrong breeze and I’ll give everyone a show.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said.
She sighed. “I guess I can’t blame you for that one. I walked right into it.”
“Yeah, you did.”
Rylie needed to get them on a safer topic, one less laced with innuendos. “To get to my house, you take Main to—”
“I know where you live, Rylie.”
“How?”
“I’ve seen your personnel file.”
So much for privacy. “Right.”
He made a slight turn onto Highway 88. “I was surprised you didn’t stay in the place you shared with your dad.”
Rylie’s chest hurt, thinking about her dad. Her father had been a good man, the best. She strived to be like him every day—selfless, understanding, and brave.
Nothing like her mother, who had found out that she’d had ovarian cancer and instead of staying and fighting, she’d run off to “experience life.”
Her dad had been heartbroken, but never spoke ill of her, even when Rylie did. She’d hated her mother for hurting him.
And me. She left me too.
They’d gotten a call from a hospital in Florida that she’d been admitted and they’d flown down to see her. She’d been so far gone; there was nothing the doctors could do for her.
She’d asked their forgiveness, and her dad had given it readily.
Rylie couldn’t. After sixteen years of being an amazing wife and mother, she’d bailed. She’d gone off and screwed around and who knows what. That’s what she’d wanted to do with the rest of her time instead of being with the people who loved her.
After her mom died, her dad had sold their house to pay for the deductibles from her mother’s medical care and used the rest to pay for culinary school for Rylie. Once she’d finished, she’d wanted to go to Paris and study under one of the top pastry chefs, and eventually, open her own gourmet bakery. It had been her dream since she was eight and got her first Easy-Bake Oven, and her dad had tried to make it happen for her.
It hadn’t though.
She’d been in her last semester when she’d had to drop out and come home. Her dad had experienced a mild heart attack and needed help recovering. She always thought she would go back, but after he didn’t survive his second one, she had been left with more debt….
And Asher.
“Rylie? You all right?” Dustin asked.
“Yeah, sure. I’m just surprised you knew where we lived.”
“We grew up together. I wasn’t oblivious to you.”
She almost snorted. Everyone had been oblivious to her. She’d been fifty pounds heavier, worn her glasses like a shield, and had serious acne. After leaving Sweetheart, she’d attended dance and aerobic classes while she was in school, dropped some weight, got contact lenses, and started a serious face cleansing regiment. And she’d learned to love her body in the process.
When she’d come home, she was completely different than the shy bookworm she’d been in school and people had finally started noticing her. Before that, she’d been invisible.
“Please. It wasn’t like we traveled in the same circles.”
“Neither did you and Asher.”
Her jaw tightened. She didn’t want to talk about Asher with Dustin, but he didn’t take her silent hint.
“How long have you two been together?”
“Three years.”
“Long time. You two talk about getting married?”
A sour taste rose in the back of her throat. Once upon a time, she’d thought she’d marry Asher. Their first year together had been great, for the most part. The more she thought back on it, she had probably been so surprised that the guy she’d had a major crush on in high school, who she’d thought was totally out of her league, had asked her out, and she’d ignored some obvious issues.
By the time they’d moved in together a year later, she’d been shocked the first time he’d lost his temper and shoved her into a wall. She’d stared at him in horror for several moments before she’d walked into the bedroom and started packing. He’d come in, begging her forgiveness, and trying to hold her. He’d cried and she’d told herself that it was a mistake.
And she’d warned him that it was the only chance he’d have.
Then her dad had died suddenly and she’d been lost. It had been the two of them against the world; with him gone, there was no one who loved her, except Asher. The money in her dad’s bank account went toward funeral costs and the medical bills insurance wouldn’t cover. When she hadn’t been able to cover everything, Asher had paid the remaining bills, and told her she didn’t have to pay him back. She’d gotten the job at Something Borrowed so she could save up and eventually finish culinary school.
But without her dad, she’d relied on Asher more, and although it had started small, he’d slowly started tearing her down. Telling her she had stupid taste in movies. That she should stop baking so much because she was just going to get fat again. Accusing her of working at Something Borrowed so she could meet other guys. He’d become controlling, condescending, and she’d just let it go on. Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped fighting back.
It was only now that she’d realized how far she’d let things go. And that she needed to find a way out.
“No, we don’t talk about getting married.”
He pulled in front of the house she shared with Asher, and when he got out with her, she shook her head. “You should wait here.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I can’t use your bathroom?”
“Of course, you can. Sorry.” God, she was acting like an idiot. There was nothing wrong with having her coworker use the bathroom while she changed. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
They walked up the path to the porch, the clip of his fancy shoes on the cement making her heart jump with every tap.
She unlocked the front door and she waved him toward the hallway. “Bathroom is that way. I won’t be a minute.”
He disappeared and Rylie went past the laundry room to the master bedroom.
She pulled out a pair of slacks, an off-the-shoulder floral blouse, and her black Skechers from the closet. The slacks would be scorching in the 103 degree heat, but they would cover the shiny black sneakers. It was disgusting how hot Nor Cal was in late September.
She was just pulling her blouse on when she heard the unmistakable rumble of Asher’s truck.
Oh, no.
* * * *
Dustin wandered around the living room of Rylie’s place, surprised at how bare it seemed. One picture of Rylie with her father sat on a bookshelf filled with paperback books. Another of Marley, Rylie, and Kelly dressed to the nines and smiling was set on the second shelf down along with a few of those silly Funko Pop! figures.
The walls of the house held pictures of Asher catching a fish when he was a kid. A framed article about him playing football. One after another of the man’s achievements were hung up. The leather chair and couch, big screen TV, and tacky neon It’s Beer O’Clock sign screamed bachelor pad.
Besides that one bookshelf, Dustin wouldn’t even have guessed that Rylie lived here. There was no color, no flair that said, “Rylie.” Meanwhile, her desk at work held a hot pink cat-shaped cup with funny pens in it and more of those Funko Pop! figures.
Something was definitely off. The way that Rylie had reacted to him suggesting they go to her house for shoes and wanting to use the bathroom… She’d seemed almost afraid.
The door slammed behind him, and he turned to find Asher standing by the entrance, scowling at him. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, black grease stains covering both. Dustin noticed that even though his arms and shoulders were still muscular, there was evidence of a beer gut.
“The fuck are you doing in my house?” he growled.
Before he could answer, Rylie came running out of the bedroom, breathing hard. “Hey, babe. Dustin just brought me by so I could change. We’re going to scout a couple of properties for a wedding and I forgot to pack my sneakers this morning. I almost broke my ankle in the heels I was wearing.”
Asher glowered at Rylie and Dustin bristled as he sneered. “You actually expect me to believe that?”
Dustin didn’t like all that anger directed at Rylie, who was pale and shaking. He moved between them, bringing Asher’s focus back on him. “Hey, man, it’s true. I just came in to use your bathroom.”
Asher stepped into him, and Dustin held his breath. The guy smelled like he’d bathed in a brewery and rolled in motor oil afterward. Was he day drinking when he was supposed to be working?
Classy.
“Was I talking to you, shithead?”
“Asher, stop it!” Rylie’s voice trembled. “We weren’t doing anything.”
Asher turned his bloodshot gaze on Rylie and stepped around Dustin toward her. “You think I’m stupid, Rys? I know this guy. What happened? He tell you you’re pretty and you just spread your legs—oof.”
Dustin hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed Asher until the other man was pressed up against the wall, Dustin’s arm across his throat. His whole body trembled with barely repressed rage as he said, “You don’t talk to her like that.”
Dustin hadn’t put his hands on another person in years; he preferred to handle disagreements without using his fists, afraid he’d lose control.
But for this douche canoe, he was about to make an exception.
Asher’s eyes popped out of his head as Dustin held him there. He wanted to drag Asher outside and teach him a lesson about bullying, but Rylie was tugging on his arm frantically, bringing him back to himself.
“Dustin, don’t! It’s okay. Put him down and let’s just go back to work.”
He turned in disbelief to look at her over his shoulder. “The hell I will! He’s out of line.”
“Please.”
Her shiny eyes cracked something in him and he let the prick go. As Asher bent over, sucking in air, Dustin stood over him.
“I’ll meet you at the car,” she said.
Every fiber in his body wanted to plant his feet and stay, but he just nodded. There was no convincing her to walk out; how many times had he tried that with his mom when his dad got violent?
It still shocked the hell out of him that Rylie would put up with this asshole though.
It’s none of my business. Just stay the hell out of it.
With a curt nod, he walked out the door.