What She's Looking For (5 page)

Chapter Six

“N
ow or never,” she whispered, rapping
her knuckles on Parker’s door. The smell of meat cooking somewhere made her
stomach growl, and she tried to remember when she’d last eaten.

The door opened, and the hulking
form of Drake filled the doorway. He was talking to someone, his cell phone
held to his ear. “Yeah, hang on Martin.”

He nodded his head to her to come
in. She slipped around him and he closed the door behind her.

It was about as masculine a scene
as she’d laid eyes on since her childhood. Drake was on the phone still, his
eyes watching her, as he sat back down at the dining room table. The table was
covered in parts of some kind (she guessed auto parts, based on what she
remembered seeing her Dad always working on).

Men. It must be in their DNA to
lay their crap on the dining room table.

She tried to suppress a smirk.

Ashley looked across the large
living room, where the big screen was showing an episode of
Wings
on the
Military Channel. Nobody was sitting on the big sectional watching it though.

Drake put his hand over his cell,
his eyes inscrutable. If anything he looked a little irritated. “He’s out on
the deck,” he said, voice a deep rumble, pointing at the sliding glass doors at
the far end of the living room.

Somehow he seemed to know she was
looking for a familiar face. Parker’s face.

Walking through the room, her heels
sinking into the deep pile carpeting, she noted the huge rock-lined fireplace
that dominated one wall, and what looked to her to be an antique rifle or
musket hanging above the oak mantelpiece.

Parker appeared at the doors,
sliding it open before she reached them. He was dressed in a gray WSU t-shirt
and blue jeans. She couldn’t help but notice the tanned, defined biceps as he
slid the door open, a long pair of metal tongs in one hand.

“Hi there! Glad you came by.” He
waved the tongs at her. “Come on out.”

She suddenly felt very overdressed.
She’d worn a snug navy skirt, and cream blouse for yet another fruitless day of
showings, phone calls, and disappointment. Her hair was up, and a choker of
delicate pearls set off the slender column of her neck. She’d stopped by the
house to ditch the matching suit jacket, and to freshen her perfume before
heading over, but she’d decided not to change anything else, and just came in
the clothes she’d worn to work.

She stepped through the deck door,
and Parker slid it closed behind her. The deck and backyard were wonderful

A well kept green lawn rambled
outward to be absorbed into what she could only describe as wild prairie grass.
It was difficult to tell where the yard ended and the wild grass began as there
was no fence — something that was an alien concept to her suburban upbringing.

Beyond, a dense, tall stand of
conifers formed a stunning backdrop against the peaks of the Cascades to the
west, the fading afternoon light casting the trees in inky shadow. It looked like
something out of a landscape painting.

Parker moved to stand next to her,
holding an opened beer up to her. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

She nodded her head slowly. “It’s
gorgeous.”

“All that Lodgepole pine used to
cover this whole property until Grandpa had it cut back. Money from the wood
helped build this place.”

Normally, she would have been
sizing up property like that to mentally figure out how many lots it could be
subdivided into, but the thought of chopping this up was repellent to her. It
was just too beautiful.

Then the smell of the cooking meat
hit her again, and her mouth watered.

“That smells great, Parker. Thanks
for inviting me over.”

She took the offered beer and
quaffed a quick sip, successfully stifling the shudder at the bitter taste. She
hated beer, but didn’t want to be rude. At least it was cold.

He moved over to the grill,
flipping the meat and closing the lid. “Just a couple more minutes.”

She stood just behind him, savoring
the wonderful smells. She normally didn’t eat much meat, but she was starving. “No
pizza, huh?”

He winked at her, the corners of
his gray eyes crinkling. They didn’t seem as cruel today, but they were still
just as gorgeous. “I figured if we’re going to have guests we’d at least make
some effort. If it was up to that caveman in there, we’d have to kill our
dinner every night.”

Smiling, she found herself
picturing Drake in caveman garb, club over his shoulder, dragging a naked woman
by the hair behind him.

Another of her little girl
fantasies she figured she’d keep to herself.

“Did you drive over here, Ashley? I
thought that was your car I heard.”

She smiled, dropping a pointed look
down, taking another sip of her beer. “I would have walked but … “

“Ah, I see.” He glanced down at her
three inch navy heels, the painted maroon lacquer of her nails visible through
the open toes. Maybe they
were
just this side of slutty, but she thought
they still went perfectly with the skirt.

“Not exactly
walking
shoes.
Good choice though.” He turned back to the grill, smoke wafting out as he
opened the lid to give the meat one last turn.

The deck door slid open, and Erik’s
blond head peered out. “God, that smells fu—”

He bit it off when he realized
Ashley was on the deck with Parker. He flashed a grin at her. “Oh hi!” He
stepped out, offering his hand. “Are you the new neighbor?”

Damn, they grow them tall out
here in Washington.

He towered over her, even taller
than Parker or Drake, though his youthful (but supremely fit) build was more on
the slender side than either of the older men. He shook her hand, his fingers
much like his body: long and lanky. He had the clearest pale blue eyes, to go
along with that blond hair.

Seeing him up close, she realized
she’d been wrong about his age earlier. He couldn’t be a day over nineteen.

Watch the dirty thoughts, cradle
robber.

She needed to get hold of herself.
She was acting like a cat coming into heat. It was hard to behave though. She
hadn’t been laid in months, and she was surrounded by hot guys. Once she told Tara about this she had a feeling her best friend might find a way to make it out there
sooner rather than later.

“This is our little Aryan vagabond,”
Parker said, waving the tongs at Erik.

“I’m Danish, not German. Dickhead.”

Ashley giggled, masking it by
taking another draw off of her beer.

“Whatever,” Parker said, shrugging.
“Ashley, this is Erik.”

She flashed Parker a sidelong
glance. “We … kind of met already.”

“Nice to put a name to a beautiful
face though,” Erik said, nodding his head at her.

“Save the Rico Suave routine,
charmer.” Parker waved him over. “Help me bring this food in.”

Erik’s handsome face flushed as he
took the blue platter piled high with meat. He gave her one last glance before
disappearing back into the house, the food leaving a contrail of steam behind
him.

Parker tapped his bottle against
hers. “Let’s eat.”

* * *

They ate in the kitchen gathered
round a huge butcher’s block that Parker told her had been hewn from a gigantic
Doug Fir his grandpa felled along the North shore of Lake Chelan in the 1930s.

This was how she’d imagined three
bachelors eating dinner. A chaotic, informal affair that resembled a feeding
rather than a meal. Still, she reveled in the relaxed energy of the men, so
different than being around a group of women. More laid back, but with a low
level undercurrent that she could just barely detect.

“Sorry about the accommodations,
Ms. Dietrich.” Parker held up a piece of steak skewered on his knife. “But my
roommate here seems to think the dining room table is superior to the garage
when it comes to working on cars.”

Drake grunted, mouth full of food,
and gesturing at Parker with his fork.

“That’s okay,” she said, smiling. “Reminds
me of my childhood. Dad had us cleaning brake parts more than once at the
dinner table too.”

“You related to Marlena Dietrich?”
Drake asked, swallowing enough food to talk, his lips curved in a half smile.

Parker groaned. “I’ll bet she’s
only heard that about a thousand times before.”

“A thousand and one now,” she
teased, giggling. The beer was starting to taste pretty good. Not a good sign.

“He win a prize or something?
Drake’s not used to winning things.” Parker’s eyes danced, gleeful.

She cocked her head considering
Drake’s brooding stare. “My undying gratitude. How’s that?”

Drake beamed, the expression
lighting up his dark features. “That’ll do — for a start.”

Oh boy.

She was sure that that smile made
things happen. She’d bet most women who saw it would do just about anything to
see it once more.

Where did that come from? You’re
acting like a little girl, Ash.

She remembered the summer of her
freshman year in college when she’d brought a boyfriend to meet her
grandparents. She and her man could hardly keep their hands to themselves, the
newness, the lust overwhelming. Goofy grins were plastered across both of their
faces. Shockingly to Ashley, her beloved grandfather had winked at her
grandmother and chuckled: “They need to get a room.”

Ashley could feel that energy now —
just the hint of it. She felt an uneasiness too, but even that held the
excitement of mystery. She couldn’t really put her finger on what it was, but
she liked it.

“Who the hell is Marlena Dietrich?”
Erik’s brow furrowed, looking at his laughing companions. “What? What’s so
funny “

“Dumbass,” Drake muttered, stabbing
another steak off the platter and setting it on his plate.

“Before your time, Padowan learner,”
Parker intoned, winking at Ashley.

She giggled again, feeling a little
lightheaded, her buzz intensifying. She wasn’t sure how many beers she was on
now; Parker kept replacing them with new ones. She’d cut up part of a strip
steak, and added it to her salad, hoping the extra food would help soak up some
of the alcohol.

“How old are you anyway, Erik?” The
alcohol was making her bolder than she’d otherwise be, but she was far enough
gone that she no longer cared.

“How old do you think?” He smiled
at her, putting his fork down to let her get a good look.

She regarded him a moment. “Nineteen.
Twenty, tops.”

“Shit,” Erik said, laughing. “No
wonder I’m still getting carded!”

“Am I right?” She pictured that
body as he was washing that truck, and really didn’t care what age he was. He
was hot no matter what. As long as he was legal.

“Twenty two.” His blues twinkled as
he looked at her.

Thank God.

What did it matter? It wasn’t like
she was going to jump in the sack with him too.

Too? Who else did you have in
mind, Miss Open-Like-7-11?

She pushed herself to her full
height, realizing she’d been leaning over the butcher block, using it to hold
herself upright.

“What I want to know is how two
straight guys like you ended up as roomies.” She turned to Parker, her eyes
making her challenge plain. “I looked up the assessment for this property.
You’re probably sitting on easily a million five here. Maybe more, once the
market turns up again. Why roommates?”

Parker’s glance flicked to Drake,
then his eyes met hers, the mirth she still saw there now sharing those gray
depths with something else, just under the surface. “Checking up on me?”

“Sure, I’m in a new town, moving
into the guest house with two big guys living practically next door.” She
flicked a glance at Drake, then caught Parker’s gaze once more. “A girl’s gotta
be careful.”

“And I’m glad to see it.” Parker
inclined his head. “I could tell you, but you probably wouldn’t believe it.”

“Try me. Considering how many beers
I’ve had, I’ll probably believe anything you tell me.”

“Oh damn,” Erik said, shaking his
head, his smile bright.

For the first time, Ashley saw
Parker’s smile dim, but his eyes still held hers. “Let’s just say Drake here
saved my ass once.”

Ashley giggled, sipping her beer.
Then she realized nobody else was laughing.

“I mean it. I owe him my life.”

Drake’s dark eyes moved between
Parker and her, his impassive, but handsome face betraying nothing.

“Where I come from, that’s not a
debt I can allow to go unpaid.”

“How?”

“In the service.”

“Military? Didn’t realize.”
Ashley’s brow furrowed. “He saves your life … so you give him a room?”

Drake’s rumbling chuckle should’ve
comforted her, but the hardness she saw steel into Parker’s gaze made her feel
anything but comforted.

“No. It means that everything
that’s mine, is his.”

“Uh, she doesn’t need the life
story, dude,” Erik said, laying his knife and fork across his plate, and
throwing a pointed look at Parker.

“What’s your story, Ashley?” Drake’s
brow lifted. “What brought you out here?”

His gaze caused a little flutter in
her belly. Those deep, brown eyes looked amused, but she sensed an intensity
there too, just under the surface.

She shrugged. “New start, I guess.
I saw the opportunity to transfer and jumped. I visited here once while I was
in college, and I remembered how beautiful it was. Sounded like a good place to
live.”

“You’re a realtor, right?”

“Broker, actually.” She smiled. “Close
enough though.”

“Why Chelan?” Drake’s eyes never left
her, as if he was looking for something unsaid, a clue to be gleaned from her
body language.

“Well, the real estate market had
collapsed back East, so it made sense. The high-end market’s at least still
alive
out here. You wouldn’t believe how bad it was from where I came from.”

Drake grunted, and flashed a look
at Parker who cleared his throat.

“There are other markets that are
still going though. “Parker leaned a hip against the block. “Bay area, Seattle, Portland. Why here?”

She wasn’t sure when the energy in
the room had changed, but it definitely had taken a turn for the sober. It had
gone from bantering back and forth to the hot heat of the spotlight, trained
directly on her.

“I already told you. There was a
job opening, silly.” She winked at Parker, trying to convey a sense of ease she
didn’t feel.

Parker looked down a moment,
straightening the fork on his plate. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“You came out here with basically
nothing but the clothes on your back. Why?”

“Look, maybe I should—”

“Wait, just wait.” Parker held up a
hand, a warm smile on his face. “Don’t go. It’s okay, Ashley.”

She wanted to leave. Now. This was
getting too close. She didn’t want to talk about this shit with three men who
were still essentially strangers. Her carefully crafted image of confidence,
the air of being put together, would crumble if she had to talk about this.

About him.

“Yeah, there
are
other
reasons.” She took a quick sip before her mouth went completely dry. “But I’d
rather not … talk about it, okay?”

“I understand,” Parker said,
nodding. “You know nothing about us. We’re new to you.”

She blew out a breath, and looked
down at her trembling hands.

Keep it together, girl.

“Here, I’ll go first,” Erik said,
moving away from the block and dropping his plate into the sink with a jarring
clang. He turned back toward them, leaning his butt against the edge of the
sink. “Parker’s right. We haven’t said crap about ourselves. So, here’s my
deal. When I can get away from school, these two jerk offs let me visit here occasionally
because neither one of them knows how to cook.

“All evidence to the contrary,”
Parker muttered, holding up his fork, a dripping piece of steak skewered on the
tines. Drake flashed him a wry grin.

“I’m fairly certain they’d die if
left to fend for themselves, so when I get a chance, I make sure they don’t
starve. In exchange” — Erik waved a hand around him, the sarcasm dripping — “I
get to sack out at this
palace
whenever I’m in town.”

“For free,” Drake’s voice rumbled. “Don’t
forget it.”

Ashley giggled, relieved that the
tension levels seemed to have dropped fractionally.

She stepped back from the block,
and swayed from side to side. Between the heels and the drink, she didn’t feel
like she was standing on solid ground.

Drake’s arm shot out, grasping her
upper arm, his grip firm, steadying. “You okay?”

She patted his hand, her face
flushing. “Maybe I’d better go.”

“No way. You need to sit,” Erik
said, striding around and brushing Drake’s hand from her arm.

She missed the strength of that
hand for just a moment, at once threatening and inviting. Erik, his hands
gently holding her by the shoulders, guided her out to the living room, leaving
Drake and Parker in the kitchen to clean up.

“Let’s just get you on the couch.
The old men can do the dishes,” Erik said. “They aren’t good for much else.”

She smiled, despite the confused
feeling being so close to such a tall man made her. She loved tall men, but she
felt uncomfortable with feeling a nascent attraction to someone who was in
third grade when she graduated high school.

Stop, Ash. It’s gonna be okay.
He’s safe.

And as he guided her down onto the
overstuffed sectional, moving an ottoman over to lay her legs upon, she knew he
was. Erik went over and sat down on the hearth, draping his long arms over his
bent knees. Somehow he knew that to sit close to her in this situation would be
too much.

“You have a few too many?” He
smiled at her, his eyebrow raised.

She nodded, shrugging a shoulder. “I
don’t even know how many I had.”

“That’s not your fault. Parker kept
giving you new ones.” Erik twisted off the cap of another beer, and took a
drink. “I think he’s trying to get you drunk.”

“He succeeded.” She groaned, leaning
her head back onto the couch.

Movement turned out not been a good
idea, her head beginning to swim. The background rush of sound she always felt
when intoxicated was faint thus far. She knew it would be a roar a little later
on though. She knew she should try and stumble out of there, keep things at
arm’s length, but the couch was so comfortable.

“How do you know them? They’re a
lot older than you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. She could hear the
sound of voices and the clang of dishes being washed.

“Known Drake since I was a kid.”
Erik’s eyes stared off for a moment. “Kind of a big brother to me, I guess.
Parker’s his best friend — practically brothers — so they’re a package deal.”

“What are you in college for?” She
thought he was much too handsome to picture with his nose stuck in a book.
Maybe that was the booze talking.

“That’s a good question,” he said,
tipping the beer toward her and taking another sip. “I was one of those who
went because it was ‘the thing to do’. Had no clue what I wanted to do, or what
I was any good at.”

Ashley leveled her gaze at him,
trying to keep her head from swaying. “And, what did you find out?”

He shook his head. “I still don’t
know. I’m not sure it’s for me. I keep sitting in class asking myself ‘What the
fuck am I doing here?’”

She laughed, knowing exactly what
he meant. She’d received her degree in communications, and on that sunny, windy
day of commencement, as she walked across the stage for that precious piece of
paper, she hadn’t a clue what she’d do with it. So, she started selling houses.
Wow, what a great return on her parents’ investment.

“Comm major here,” she said, holding
a wavering hand up. “And look where it got me. That brass ring is just around
the corner.”

Erik laughed, tilting his head to
the side. “So how come there’s no Mr. Ashley? You’re entirely too good looking
to be single.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair.
“Young man, how dare you!” She winked at him. “I’m old enough to be your
mother.”

If she wasn’t already drunk she
knew this subject would’ve had her up and out the door. Ashley marveled anew at
the self-observation phenomenon one experienced when they were shit-faced. It
was as if you were watching a play that you yourself were starring in.

“Bullshit,” he said, a wide grin on
his face. “How old are you?”

“You tell me.”

Erik scratched his chin. “Hmm,
twenty nine?”

She beamed. “Sweet boy. Higher.”

“Thirty?”

Her thumb went up. “Higher.”

“Thirty five?”

“Nope. More.”

“
Really?
Holy shit.”

She affected a frown at him,
pushing out her lower lip.

“Aw hell.” Erik’s eyes widened, and
he held up a hand. “Not what I meant, sorry.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and
giggled, letting him off the hook. “I’m thirty eight.”