The Vixen and the Vet (12 page)

“Asher, I don’t want to change who you
are
. I
like
who you are. I
more than like
who you are. And of course I don’t presume to know what you’ve been through, but whatever you want for yourself? Bionic hands? Second chances? I want that for you, too.”

He couldn’t hold her in his arms anymore without tasting her. He dropped his lips to hers and kissed her longingly, pouring all his fears from last night and relief from right now into the kiss. He memorized the feeling of her in his arms, the way it felt to have her softness pressed against him. Someday, when she boarded a plane for Phoenix, he’d live on these memories, these precious moments with her.

“You’re an alien,” he whispered in her ear after biting her earlobe and making her tremble. “Admit it.”

“Flatterer,” s
he said, her voice low and lust-filled and hitched. “I plead the Fifth on my alien status.”

“It’s a beautiful day for a drive,” he said, resting his lips against her pulse as her fingers laced around his neck, her thumbs doing wicked things to the warm skin she found
under his hair. “I could put the top down. We could get out of town. Just you and me? Buy a picnic, find a meadow, make out until sundown.”

He had no idea where these words were coming from. When he drove over to her house, he hadn’t the slightest plan or intention to ask her to spend the day with him, let alone spend the day away from home. But seeing her like this and feeling like he felt, saying good-bye until tomorrow afternoon felt impossible. And he wanted to show her he wasn’t a hundred percent
coward—he might not love mixing it up with the fair citizens of Danvers, but he was perfectly capable of leaving his house for a few hours, wasn’t he?

“Your BMW’s a convertible?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I like fast German cars.”

“Riding or driving?”

“Both.”

“Is that a request?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I love my car, Savannah. I’m not a shallow man, but I love that vehicle. What’s your driving record look like?”

“This question from the man who made me cry?”

“I would love for you to drive my car as far and as fast as you like,” he amended.

She leaned back and winked at him. “I thought so. Give me a minute to change?”

“Must you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She backed out of his arms, but he called to her as she reached the living room doorway.

“Savannah?”

Her coffee-brown eyes were wide and animated as she turned around to face him, and his heart swelled with love for her. She could have given him a harder time. Could have made him apologize over and over and beg for her forgiveness, but not his girl. Not his Savannah.

“Thank you.”

***

The next morning, Savannah stretched languorously in her bed, smiling even before she opened her eyes.

Her dreams had basically rehashed every detail of her country drive with Asher, all in stunning Technicolor. Her body was hot and unsatisfied, but her heart was overflowing with her burgeoning feelings for him. Every minute they spent together only served to fix him more permanently in her life. She tried not to think about Phoenix. She couldn’t bear to imagine walking away from him, and yet she couldn’t walk away from her career either. She quietly hoped a solution would present itself because letting go of Asher seemed more and more unlikely.

After she’d gotten behind the wheel of his BMW, she turned the car northwest on Route 460 into the Jefferson National Forest, where they’d spent the day driving through Appalachia with the sun on their faces and the wind at their backs. His car handled like a dream, and his hand,
warm and certain on her thigh, made her hyperaware of him beside her, as if he couldn’t bear letting the car seduce her when he was in play.

They’d gotten sandwiches and coffee at a drive-through and found a secluded spot near a river to spread their blanket.

Savannah had sat with Asher’s head on her lap, aviator sunglasses obscuring his eyes but making him so damned sexy, it made her hot all day.

“Let’s do this next weekend too,” he said as she gently brushed his hair off his forehead.

Her heart plunged. “I can’t.”

“Oh.” A single sound filled with so much disappointment.

“It’s my sister’s bachelorette party next weekend.”

“Vegas?”

“Why does everyone’s mind immediately go to Vegas?”

“I guess because what happens there, stays there,” he said dryly.

“Not Vegas.”

“Thank God.”

“Myrtle Beach.” She sighed. “We’re staying at a three-bedroom condo on the Strand. Nine girls.”

“
Nine
? Your sister’s having eight attendants?”

“My sister’s having
nine
attendants and two readers. Three of them can’t make it.” Savannah paused for a moment, considering her next words. “Trent and his groomsmen are coming too.”

Asher didn’t say anything right away. When he did, his tone was clipped. “Lots of bodies in a three-bedroom condo.”

“The boys are renting the condo next door.”

“Aren’t bachelorette weekends generally planned without the groom in attendance?”

“Scarlet said she’d miss him too much.”

“So, the Hamilton brothers will be there,” said Asher. “And every other good-looking, successful
twenty-something in Danvers. I hope you have a great time, Savannah.”

He sat up, putting his back to her. “I guess we should probably be heading back.”

“I guess so,” she said.

She wasn’t confused by his reaction. He didn’t like it that she was spending next weekend with almost a dozen eligible hot men. She understood. But she didn’t apologize because they hadn’t promised each other anything. Were they dating? Sort of. Exclusive? Not as far as she knew. She hadn’t used the word
boyfriend
, nor had he used the word
girlfriend
. And frankly despite her growing feelings for him, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be exclusive. Discovering new feelings was one thing. Actually changing your Facebook status? That was real.

To his credit, he hadn’t pouted for more than a few minutes before slipping back into their easy conversation as he took the wheel and pointed the car back toward Danvers.

She looked at the clock on her bedside table. Church in an hour—the nonnegotiable price of staying at her parents’ house—and Sunday supper three hours after that. Just enough time to get her notes in order for the next installment of “
Asher
Adam &
Savannah
Cassandra: An All-American Love Story.”

***

Miss Potts bustled from the kitchen with two foil-wrapped dishes.

“Your mama’s peach cobbler and Amish devil’s food cake.”

Asher grinned. “
Amish
devil’s food?”

“I’ve always loved the wickedness of the name,” she said. “You can’t use a cake mixer to make the batter since the Amish don’t have electricity, and it’d be hell with a hand mixer. They use hot coffee instead, to mix the ingredients and get a good batter.”

He had a flashback of himself, as a boy, sitting in the back of his mother’s car as she told him about baking techniques. The lifelong friendship between his grandmother Frances Sherman and Matilda Potts meant that Miss Potts often said and did things that resonated so strongly of Asher’s mother, Pamela Sherman Lee, it sometimes took his breath away. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her papery cheek.

“She’d be so grateful, you know.”

“Your gran was the best friend I ever had, and your mama was like a niece to me,” said Miss Potts softly, reaching up to swipe at her eyes. Then she smoothed the collar of Asher’s polo shirt. “You look handsome.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Asher. And I’ve seen the way Savannah Carmichael beholds you.”

“It can’t last,” he said softly, feeling the heavy desperation that he tried, less and less successfully, to keep at bay.

“Don’t let’s worry about that today,” said Miss Potts, urging him toward the door. “You go have a nice time.”

“A nice time? I wish I had a mask.”

“Not necessary. The Carmichaels are good people. They raised Savannah, didn’t they?”

An hour later, sitting beside Savannah at her parents’ dinner table, his plate piled high with ham, potatoes, corn, and biscuits, he was surprised to find that Miss Potts had been right. The
Carmichaels
were
good people, and after the slight but fairly well-concealed reactions to his face that he perceived upon greeting, they hadn’t made him feel uncomfortable again. He noticed that Scarlet Carmichael’s eyes occasionally looked away too quickly as he was speaking, and he saw the sympathetic softness in Judy Carmichael’s eyes from time to time. But with Savannah beside him, sexy in a black cotton sundress with her thigh pressed up against his? Pretty much he’d say yes to Sunday supper anytime.

The only fly in Asher’s ointment was Trent Hamilton, who had looked downright disgusted the first time he examined Asher’s face and winced theatrically a few more times for good measure. Only when the Carmichaels weren’t looking, of course.

“Vanna, honey, my brother Lance can’t wait to renew your acquaintance again next weekend at MB,” said Trent, giving Savannah his million-dollar grin.

“If memory serves
, Lancey was a little handsy,” said Savannah, giving Trent a look.

“That’s just because he liked you so well.” Trent pulled Scarlet against his side in a big show. “Hamilton boys and Carmichael girls go together like peas and carrots.”

Savannah straightened in her chair, ignoring him and turned to Asher. “You ever been to Myrtle Beach?”

Asher nodded, thinking he could take Trent easily if the younger man wanted to keep baiting him. They could step outside, and Asher could rearrange Trent’s face lickety-split, see how he liked it. “I did boot camp at Fort Jackson down in South Carolina. Myrtle Beach wasn’t but three hours away, so we went several times. You ever been to boot camp, Hamilton?”

“No, sir,” replied Trent with narrowed eyes. “You mind if I call you sir? I like to show respect to my elders.”

“That’s
just fine, son,” responded Asher smoothly, turning back to Savannah, who rolled her eyes at their antics. “I loved the Strand at night. The way the smells of cotton candy and funnel cakes mix with salt water and sun lotion in the summertime. The twinkle lights. The music.”

“Lord, Frank,” Judy said, “you remember that week we spent in Myrtle Beach before the girls were born?”

Mr. Carmichael’s eyes softened as he gazed across the table at her. “I remember, blossom.”

“You’re right about the cotton candy, Asher,” said Judy. “Did y’all ever see the movie
Shag
? I love that film!”

“It’s her favorite,” said Savannah, turning to Asher with sparkling eyes.

“In honor of Scarlet’s bach next weekend, I think we should have a family viewing,” said Judy.

“Oh Lord,” sighed Frank.

“Family viewing?” asked Asher, leaning toward Savannah.

“Daddy puts a white sheet up against the house, and Mama makes popcorn, and we sit out on the lawn and watch
Shag
. We do it at least once a summer. Sometimes two or three times. I know every word of that movie.”

“Do you know how to shag?” Asher asked, smiling at her.

“’Course! Mama taught us. You?”

“I do. But I can’t really. Anymore.”

“Sure you can! We’ll go slow.”

He leaned forward a little more, then stopped himself when he realized that he was on the brink of kissing her at the supper table in front of her whole family.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered.

“Later,” she said, shifting in her seat so that her thigh rubbed against his.

“So that’s settled,” said Judy, beaming at Frank, who looked tired. “Thursday night! A little send-off before you girls hit the road on Friday morning. Of course you’re comin’, boys?”

Asher looked at Trent, whose eyes narrowed at him with displeasure before looking at Judy and turning on the charm. “Oh, I’ll be here,
Miz Carmichael. Wouldn’t miss it.”

She smiled politely at Trent before turning to Asher. “And you, Asher?”

Savannah’s hand squeezed his under the table and gave him the courage to agree to another expedition into town. “Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”

After supper, Trent and Scarlet left quickly, heading to the neighboring town for a barbecue with friends, and Savannah invited Asher to join her on the porch swing before saying their good nights.

“I love it that you came for supper,” she said as he laced his finger through hers. She pushed off to rock them gently on the swing. “I know it must not have been easy for you.”