What She's Looking For (2 page)

Chapter Two

“T
ell me you aren’t coming back.” Tara’s voice was more serious than Ashley was used to hearing from her normally ebullient
best friend.

“Give me a few weeks, and we’ll
see. I’ll be out of money by then, heh.”

Ashley looked at her face in the
vanity, brushing an eyelash off of her fair cheek. She didn’t realize how pale
she’d become during the past few weeks. Fear, despair, and loneliness did that
to a girl.

“If I don’t sell a house by the end
of this month, I’m going to be selling something else.”

Tara laughed on the other end of
the phone. “Some ass?”

“We have a winner.”

“You’d better eat something while
you still have the money then, Ashley. Guys need some cushion for the pushin’
and unfortunately you don’t have an ass anymore.”

“Bitch,” Ashley said, laughing
despite the fact that what Tara said wasn’t far off the mark.

She
was
too thin, at least
for her. Her curves normally caught the eye, especially the male eye. Since the
disaster with Terry though, those curves were a lot less dramatic, her beauty
somehow more muted. She couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last.

“Are you eating? Last time we
talked you couldn’t keep anything down.”

“Better now.” Ashley flopped down
onto the queen bed in her hotel room. “Pretty soon you’ll have to roll me out
of here.”

“Yeah, anyways. You’d better start
eating, dumbass. We need to take a trip to Aunty’s again. We’ll get you fixed
right up.”

In college, she’d traveled with
Tara one year to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. She didn’t remember a lot of the
trip, so well-oiled they’d been most of the time, but she
did
remember Tara’s aunt, Gloria. Her broad, warm smile, her dimples, and my god — the food. The smells
in that kitchen. Lord, they were good.

It was just about the friendliest
place she’d ever been. After dinner with her and Tara’s cousin Dee, Ashley had
told Gloria that she wanted to be adopted. Gloria just patted her on the ass,
and told her she needed to eat some more.

“She totally shot me down! I
practically begged for adoption.”

“Yeah, well, you were shit-faced,
Ash. We all were. Aunty probably couldn’t even understand our slurring drunk
asses.”

“Well, there’s always next time.
I’ll wear her down eventually.”

It felt good to talk to Tara. A connection to the life she was fleeing. It was also a relief that Tara didn’t sound
any different, wasn’t strained or shrot with her. She was afraid Tara would freak once she realized Ashley wasn’t coming back.

But Tara knew the story. Knew why.

“You meet anyone? Any hotties we
can tag team when I get out there to visit?”

“Jesus, Tara. No!”

(Parker)

“What, Ashley? You need to get over
it. Nothing clears a girl’s mind like a good, hard orgasm. A big, hard cock
helps too.”

Ashley burst out laughing, spitting
out the Coke she’d been drinking.

“Dammit, Tara.” She wiped her chin
off with her hand. “Spit all over myself.”

“Mustn’t waste, dear. Nobody likes
a spitter.”

“Fuck you.”

“You find somewhere to live or are
you staying at the motel in preparation for your impending career change?”

Ashley giggled, leaning back
against the soft pillows she’d stacked against the headboard. Late afternoon
sunlight slanted across her legs as she stretched them over the garish floral
bedspread.

“I think I found something. It’s a
ways out of Chelan, on the north side of the lake. But the view is amazing, and
… “

Tara caught it, perceptive as
always. “More than a good view of the lake? He that good?”

“The guy who’s looking to rent it.
He, well. Yeah, he’s not bad.”

“That’s my girl! What’s he look
like? Does he have those devil’s eyes you can’t resist?”

She could picture Tara’s grin on
the other end.

“I need to stop telling you every
innermost thought, don’t I?”

Tara grunted. “You aren’t the first
girl to admit a weakness for cruel eyes, Ashley.”

He was handsome, there was no
denying it. But his attractiveness was more than the sum of its parts. A strong
jaw, clean shaven, prominent brows. All the attributes from Stud Central
Casting.

But his eyes overshadowed it all,
and yet emphasized it all.

Dammit.

“So, does he?” The mirth was plain
in Tara’s voice.

“What?
Fine
— yes. I just
met him once though. We talked for a minute at the house before he gave me the
keys.”

“Gave you the keys? What’d you do,
Ashley? Bat the eyelashes and show off the girls?”

“Shut up, it wasn’t like that.”

“It should be,” Tara muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh nothing, dear. Sunshine and
rainbows!”

“What’s gotten into you, Tara? You
seem like you want me to just hook up with the first random dick that comes
along!”

“Not just the first one, Ash.
Several. You need this. Purge yourself of the memory of that asshole. The piece
of shit.”

So, apparently Tara was just
hiding
the tension. It was coming through loud and clear now.

“I know. I wish it were that easy.”

“Nobody said it was going to be
easy, but it’s not happening if you don’t take the first step. Ass is not going
to just fall into your lap. Especially out there in the sticks.”

Ashley rubbed her temple with the
tips of her fingers, her head beginning to pound.

“This is the first step, Tara. You think it was easy to just drop everything and run?”

“You think it was easy not to know
where my best friend was for almost a week?” She could hear the strain now, the
emotion behind the words.

“I deserved that, Tara. I’m sorry.
I had no choice.”

“I know you didn’t. But don’t
forget that there are others suffering here right along with you.”

She wished she could hug her
friend. God, she was lucky to have Tara, despite how much of a pain in the ass
she was.

“Enough of this sappy shit,” Tara said, but Ashley could pick up the hitch in her voice. She really
had
been
worried about her. “You need to just run through a few of them. Get a number,
bam. On to the next stud. Before you know it, Terry will be just an unpleasant
memory. Yeah, so maybe you end up with a sore kitty, but it’d be worth it to
forget that asshole.”

“Tara, please—”

“What’s with this ‘please’ shit?.
I’ve seen you do it.”

“That was college. I’m thirty two
years old.”

“That’s the new twenty two! You
still have it — if you’d hit Mickey Dees more often and fill those jeans out
again.”

“Okay, Tara—”

“My new nickname for you: Bag o bones.”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad.”

“Skeletor.”

Ashley smiled, shaking her head.
Thank god she could still do it. Still find joy in something — even in just a
friendly verbal beat down from her best friend.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stuff my face in
your honor, Tara. Happy now?”

“That’s better. Now when you’re
done ‘stuffing your face’ as you call it, you need to get something to eat too.”

“Jesus. Perv.”

* * *

“Uh, Park are you gonna tell me who
that chick was, or are you just gonna walk around with that stupid grin on your
face?” Erik sat down on the couch, handing a beer to Parker.

“Now, Erik. I would
never
hold
out on you guys.” Parker popped open the beer, shaking the foam off his hand
before taking a long drink. “Damn, that’s good.”

“So give it up, dude. Who is she?
You get digits?”

“Down, boy,” Parker said, laughing
and shoving Erik with an elbow. “I just met her. She wants to rent the guest
house.”

Erik clapped his hands. “Fucking
suh-
weet
!”

Parker couldn’t blame him. He felt
the same way, the same near giddiness his younger friend obviously felt. He
didn’t know what it was about the woman, but she was certainly … interesting.
Maybe it had just been too long since he’d been with anyone?

“Next time, you need to bring her
over and introduce us, bro! Drake and I were standing there forever.”

“You were subtle as always, Erik.
She looked over at you guys a couple times while we were talking about the
house.”

“And?”

“My guess is she thought you and
Drake were gay.”

“Asshole.” Erik got up and walked
into the kitchen.

“What are we having, honey?” Parker
said, craning his head over a shoulder. Something was smelling damned good.

“
I
am having spaghetti,”
Erik yelled from the kitchen, over the clang of a metal lid. “I don’t know what
you’re
having.”

“The only reason we let you visit
once in awhile is because you can
kind of
cook, Erik.”

“Whatever. My cooking is the
shiznit.” Erik came back into the living room and dropped into the easy chair, kicking
off his shoes with a thud on the carpet.

The fact was that having the kid
around once in a while was good for him — and it was certainly good for Drake.
Erik and Drake had grown up together in Seattle, and Drake, being older, had
become almost an adopted big brother over the years — especially as Erik’s
family life had started to deteriorate.

When it was just Parker and Drake
though, the house was a tad too … serious after awhile. The infectious
enthusiasm of a hormonally challenged college kid — while trying at times in
itself — was refreshing.

“Where the hell is Drake? He never
misses dinner.”

Erik’s eyes darted to the window. “Uh,
think he’s talking to Kimber.”

Parker shook his head, his lips
curled in distaste. “Shit, Erik. Why?”

“I know. I told him to give it up.
It’ll just end in a fight.”

Parker sat forward, turning the
volume down on the evening news. Yet another Middle Eastern country was melting
down in revolution. Drake couldn’t even watch the news anymore, too disgusted
with all of it. Considering what Drake had been through — what they’d
both
been through — while stationed in that part of the world, Parker couldn’t blame
him. Not one bit.

“Kimber’s not the right girl for him.”
Parker dropped the remote down on the coffee table. “She proves it every time
she bitches him out.”

“I think he’s just trying to be a
nice guy and explain it.” Erik put one foot up onto the cushion, leaning back
in the recliner. His long leg extended, a white clad foot stretching.

“Well, he needs to wise the fuck
up. No amount of ‘explaining’ to her will make her understand. Sometimes people
just aren’t right for each other. Besides —” Parker stood, walking to the big
bay window that opened to the front yard. “—Drake is not a ‘nice’ guy.”

Parker knew the story — at least
what Drake had decided to share, which admittedly wasn’t much. He’d told her
what he’d really wanted from her, what he really expected from his woman.

Expect. His woman. Just those words
had set her off apparently, and as soon as Parker heard Drake tell the story,
he knew the couple were fucked. Done.

But big, scary Drake had a soft
side, despite what he’d been through in the service. He tried to hide it from
Parker and Erik, but when you’re friends with someone long enough you can piece
things together. Little hints at what’s deeper.

It was all they had to go on
because none of them were exactly into talking about ‘feelings’.

Tits, beer, cars and football.
Preferably in that order.
Much
easier to talk about those things.

Drake’s truck pulled into the
driveway, Parker watching through the window as Drake slammed the driver’s side
door, the big man’s boots crunching in the gravel driveway.

“He looks pissed,” Parker said,
shaking his head.

“Fuck, this is gonna be bad.” Erik launched
himself out of the recliner to walk back into the kitchen.

Drake walked in, dumping his jacket
on the bench by the front door, and moving straight down the hall. “I don’t
want to hear it,” he growled.

“Not saying anything,” Parker said,
holding up his hands.

Drake slammed his bedroom door, the
pictures on the living room wall shaking.

Erik craned his head out of the
kitchen. “That apparently went well.”

Chapter Three

A
shley was early. Parker had told her
he’d be there at four to let her in to look at the house. It was 3:40.

She’d had only one showing so far.
A massive faux log cabin quite a ways up the Methow valley. She’d told the
couple that a famous Hollywood acting couple used to have a place in the
Methow. The husband, whom she thought was probably a doctor, seemed to think
she was bullshitting them. Just another realtor, weaving tales. Desperate.

If he thought that, he wouldn’t be
far off the mark. The Hollywood part was true though! If she got a callback
from the good doctor and his trophy wife it’d be a fucking miracle.

So, she had time to kill. She drove
around Chelan for a while, picked up a bite to eat and people watched at the beautiful
park along the north shore. Kids were actually still trying to swim — in
September! After watching some exasperated parents ushering their now
chastened, shivering kids out of the icy water, she decided to pack it in and
head up to the house.

The winding road that led to the
her new place snaked up to the top of one of the ridges overlooking the lake. It
was fun to drive, but she was pretty sure she’d feel a lot differently once the
bitterness of winter set in. They didn’t use salt on the roads in Washington state. Not even there in the foothills of the Cascades.

She pulled the Honda into the long
gravel driveway that led to both the guest house and Parker’s sprawling home.
With a grinding slam, the car bottomed out again on one of the many potholes,
and she cursed under her breath. That was going to get old fast, especially
when she had zero money to fix a car beaten to death by the damned potholes.

There was someone in Parker’s
driveway.

She kept driving, slowing a bit to
get a look at who it might be. The blond hair told her right away it wasn’t
Parker. Maybe that kid she’d seen standing on the porch with Mr. Dark? That
nickname had just popped into her head the first time she’d laid eyes on Drake.

Was the kid’s name Erik? She was
pretty sure it was, but then she was so distracted by Parker, he might have
told her the name was Habib.

“Damn,” she muttered as her car
pulled past Parker’s driveway. It was Erik all right, and Ashley had to kick
herself for jumping to conclusions. Sure the guy looked like he wasn’t a day
over twenty …but god
damn
. Young? Yes. Gorgeous? Hell yes.

As tall, maybe taller than Parker,
he was leaning over the hood of a jacked up 4 x 4, struggling, even at his
height, to reach the windshield with a sudsy sponge. He was shirtless, the
afternoon sun, emphasizing the lean, tanned back, the ropes of muscle of the
arms and shoulders. And his ass …

Dear Lord, those jeans should be
illegal.

He turned his head at the sound of
her car, and grinned, waving his non-soapy hand at her as she passed. She could
see in the rear view mirror that he watched her as she drove away.

Ashley giggled, shaking her head. “How
can life imitate cliché? You just saw it, Ash.”

Still, if this place was going to
imitate clichés, there were a few more she could think of that she wouldn’t
mind suffering through.

The image of her helping Erik wash
that big truck of his, flashed through her mind. Him spraying her with the icy
cold water, the sunshine rendering the water droplets iridescent. Her nipples
pebbling into dark stones under the soaked fabric of her shirt. Erik’s fingers
finding them, as his mouth found hers.

She jerked the wheel suddenly, the
car about to drift into the drainage ditch along the driveway.

Keep it together, you dumb ass
.

She shifted in her seat, her panties
feeling a little … moist. It really had been too long if the mere sight of a
shirtless guy — okay,
gorgeous
, shirtless guy — got her hot.

Distraction.

She parked the Honda in front of
the guest house, getting out to look back down the driveway at Parker’s home.
It was downhill somewhat, maybe 200 – 300 feet away. The property really was
beautiful, the land gently rolling up from the roadway below, the driveway
surrounded on both sides by waving grasses, still brown from the summer’s heat,
dark, almost skeletal lodge pole pine in stands here and there, impenetrable, soaring
fir stands marking the western edge of the property. Parker’s house dominated
the center of the expanse, looking every bit like a rambling frontier home in
the midst of a sun-splashed mountain meadow.

Erik was still at work on his baby,
though regretfully even Ashley’s keen vision couldn’t make out much detail at
that distance. Her imagination was quite up to the task of filling in the
blanks, though.

She heard a door open, and turned
her head toward the sound. It was him.

Him? His name is Parker.

He walked down the steps of the
front porch, his boots clacking on the wood. His rugged looks and neutral
expression made it difficult for her to tell if he was surprised or irritated.
Going with ‘surprised’, she walked toward him with her hand outstretched, the
realtor’s warmth deployed.

“Oh, hi Parker! I’m sorry I’m so
early. I had some extra time, and just thought I’d drive up to enjoy the view.”

He walked right up to her, looking
at her hand. His gaze flicked down then up pointedly, for a moment longer than
was polite. She gulped, feeling a flush rise.

Then he smiled, wrapping her hand
in his. “No problem, Ashley. I was just checking to make sure there weren’t any
toys laying around in there.”

“Toys?” She tried to pull her hand
away, and he held it a second longer, his thumb tracing hers.

“Oh, the guys store some of their
things here when it’s not being rented.”

“Which guys? Do you live here with
someone else?”

“Drake — and our vagabond drops by
too, now and again when he feels like it.” He nodded a head in Erik’s
direction, his gaze locked on her.

Were they gay? The young boy toy
for the two older guys? Her heart sank.

Get hold of yourself, dammit.
Who cares?

“Oh.” She glanced down toward Erik
again. “Are you — roommates?”

“Yep, Drake and I.” He ran a hand
along his square jaw. “I’d say Erik there is more like a transient squatter. He
seems to roll in whenever the urge strikes. College kids, ya know?”

She beamed back at Parker, her exaggerated
expression betraying her inner elation.

Not gay. Thank you God.

“Drake should be home from the
grindstone anytime. His day to ‘cook’.” Parker’s fingers formed air quotes as
he said it. “My money’s on pizza. You want to join us?”

“Oh, no that’s okay … “

The idea of eating dinner with
three men she barely knew made her a little uneasy, despite the fact she was
apparently thinking with her clit today.

“Want me to show you around? Pretty
basic, but I can give you the grand tour. You know how to use a wood stove?”

She shook her head. “I know how to
turn a dial on a thermostat.

“Well, then this will be your first
lesson, my dear.”

He winked at her with those
devastating eyes.

Oh no, Ash …

* * *