“Josh.” Ky’s voice boomed and dragged my attention from the email I was obsessing over.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you free for lunch? I need to discuss something with you and Ash.”

“Uh . . . yeah, sure. Where? What time?”

I was entirely distracted, and my curiosity as to what Lachlan could possibly have to say was gnawing at my every nerve.

“I just sent her a text. She will be here at noon, then we can head to Antonio’s.” He rose from the seat, put his phone in his pocket, and worry covered his face as he stared at me. “Are you okay? What the hell is going on with you?”

“Yeah, I’ve just got a lot of work to do this morning.” I gave him a half-assed answer, and he thankfully took it.

The moment Ky shut the door behind him, I pulled up my emails and clicked on Lachlan’s name, desperate to see what he could possibly have to say to me. I never responded to his last email, the one asking if I had seen Ashlyn, the same email that made me aware that she was back in the states, and he would have to know that I would not be looking for any friendly interaction considering I was aware of what he did.

From: Lachlan Johnson

To: Joshua Crawford

Subject: Ashlyn Hart

Asshole, what have you said to her? Stay away from her, Josh. I mean it. Stay the fuck away from her.

I read it five times to make sure I had actually just read his pathetic attempt at intimidation. My heart swelled with pride because, with a question like “what have you said to her,” I knew Ashlyn had confronted him. How I would have liked to be a fly on the wall when that conversation happened. I closed down his email and refused to give him the satisfaction of replying. I knew the time would come when I’d be face to face with him, and that’s what kept my anger simmering just below the surface. The time I could tell him what a fucking asshole he was.

My attention had to be solely on Ashlyn. Seeing her façade on the brink of crumbling in her apartment had shot me to life. There weren’t a lot of people who knew that Ashlyn often hid behind the confident woman she wanted the world to see. I had seen her bruises rise to the surface on numerous occasions; bruises that reminded her that she was on her own . . . or so she thought. We had many arguments over the years where I begged her to talk to me, but she always shut me out. She’d always retreat, and I wouldn’t see her for days. It was as if she only wanted me to see her as the woman she thought I wanted her to be. Maybe it was my fault, because I’d always paid extra attention when the sassy, confident, balls-to-the-wall woman came out to play. In reality, I wanted all of her: the sass, the insecurities, the fears, and the triumphs.

Now I knew those bruises would start to darken and play on the surface again, but this time I wouldn’t be letting her retreat. I was done with allowing her to retreat. I was done with her thinking she was on her own.

As the day progressed, I got lost in a sea of emails and checking editorial submissions, and completely overlooked the time. Ky’s visit was all but forgotten. Brother of the Year right here. My head was throbbing with information and, when my desk phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my chair.

“Yep,” I said sharply, still tapping away at my laptop and typing up the next issues feature details.

“Josh, Ashlyn has arrived and wants to see you before she meets Ky.”

As soon as Ashlyn’s name was mentioned, I stopped typing and looked at the closed door. “Sure, send her in.”

The door opened minutes later, and Ashlyn sashayed in with a smile that finally reached her eyes. I leaned back in my chair as she crossed my office, wearing skinny jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin, and a fitted shirt that gave me a glimpse of her taunting cleavage. Her smile never disappeared as she pulled out the chair and took a seat across from me.

“Good to see you smiling, Ashy.” I hummed in acknowledgement of her smile, which only encouraged it to grow.

“Well, I had this guy come over on Saturday night and tell me how much my lasagna rocked, and then we drank too much wine. What’s not to smile about?” she asked in a singsong voice.

“Geez, he sounds like a keeper.”

“I guess it just depends on how many more compliments he feeds me.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” I shot her a wink and her cheeks flushed.

She laughed loudly. “You are such a player.”

“I know the game, Ashy.”

“I am very aware of that. I’ve seen you play it plenty of times,” she said with a smirk.

It was true. Ashlyn had come out for Friday night drinks with Duke and I every so often and, even though I didn’t want to, there were times when an opportunity presented itself and I had to take what was offered, whether it be in the form of a blond, brunette, or redhead. But now, sitting in my office, I wanted to erase all of those memories she had. I didn’t want her looking at me like I was a player; I wanted to prove that I was more than that; that there was more to the man than where he put his dick. I wanted her to see me as the guy she met when we were nineteen; the guy that sacrificed a future with her for the sanity of his brother. Fuck, this was getting too intense. I ran far away from the memories of the past and came flying back to the future.

“Are you doing okay? Has Lachlan contacted you?” I asked, knowing that sometime in the past thirty-six hours there was a conversation of some sort.

“He called me after you left. Obviously, I had a belly full of wine so I answered the call and told him exactly what I thought and how much of an asshole he was. I didn’t hold back. Then I had a little cry. Then I got angry at myself for crying. By the way, he knows you had dinner with me.”

I won’t lie. Knowing that she dropped my name to that asshole felt un-fucking-believable. “He sent me an email earlier, warning me to stay away from you.”

“He did not.” She gasped, wide eyed and completely shocked. “You cannot be serious?”

“Sure did. He is full of empty threats, Ashy.”

Her eyes fled from mine and she shifted in her seat. Something had just flashed through her head.

“Can we please keep the whole Lachlan thing between us? I don’t want to have to deal with questions and feeling like I fucked up because I didn’t listen to people’s warnings just yet. I will owe you big time. I’ll do whatever you like.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” I stated matter-of-factly. “So get that thought out of your head.”

She huffed in response, and crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “Josh, we both know I did.”

“Lachlan fucked up. There was absolutely no fucking up on your end, so stop thinking like that.”

“You’re very stubborn and bossy these days.”

“Should I be telling the guy that came to your place that you like bossy and stubborn?” I asked, taunting her.

“Well, if he was bossy and stubborn, would he really be concerned about what I thought?” She raised a suspicious brow in my direction and it encouraged me further.

“He’d respect you and devote himself to you. You’d get exactly what you needed, but he would always guarantee that he also got what he wanted.”

Yep, we were officially flirting. I always had fun flirting with Ashlyn—making random taunts and inappropriate comments—but she had never taken the bait. Now, however, in a crazy turn of events, she was starting it. It was entirely unexpected, and a massive fucking turn on.

Ashlyn moved forward and leaned over my desk, her eyes loaded with a suggestive undertone and her lip pulled between her teeth. I waited eagerly to see what she was going to divulge next, but nothing came. The door suddenly burst open and Ky appeared, so Ashlyn immediately sat back in the seat.

“I was told you’d arrived,” Ky said happily as he took in Ashlyn. “You two ready?”