Break of Day (22 page)

I could feel her step behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, leaning into me, her head resting on my back. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I had no idea Toby would react that way. I honestly thought she'd be thrilled.” She shrugged. “I guess she's just protective of the kids.”

“Which is what she should be,” I replied. “She's just doing her job. Keeping the fuckups at bay.”

“You're not a fuckup, Asher,” she said.

“I don't know if most people would agree with you.”

“Most people don't know you. Not like I've gotten to know you now. I've seen you work hard these past few weeks. I know how important this is to you. I believe you're in it for the long haul, and it's not just a passing fancy.” I could feel her smile against my back. “Trust me, all my life people have been trying to tell me what I can't do. I just use that as an opportunity to prove them wrong.”

I turned to her, pulling her into my arms, my heart
soaring at the belief I saw radiating from her eyes. The fact that she believed in me. That she was willing to put her own reputation on the line for me.

Oh God. This girl . . .

I couldn't help it. I leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth. She
eep
ed in surprise then laughed, kissing me back with a hunger that practically took my breath away. For a moment, we just stood there, locked in one another's arms, our mouths pressing against one another. My stomach flip-flopping in my chest like a fish and my heart racing—though not from nerves this time.

I pulled away from the kiss, meeting her eyes with my own. Such beautiful eyes. Filled with such passion and belief. Eyes I wanted to wake up to every morning. Fall asleep with every night.

And suddenly I knew exactly what I needed to say.

“If you really believe in me,” I said slowly, “I want you to prove it.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this thing between us—whatever it is. I don't want it to be casual. I don't want it to be about hookups and occasional lapses in judgment. I want to commit. I want to be in it for the long haul—just like the surf school.”

She turned away and I could see her swallow hard. The flash of doubt in her eyes that sent a chill straight to my heart. “Asher,” she said gently. “I don't know . . .”

“Come on, Piper. Give me a chance. I promise you—I will prove you wrong.”

“Asher, we talked about this. We're coworkers.”

“Fuck News 9. I don't care about them. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too,” she said, her eyes taking on a pleading look. “But I also care about my career. I'm sorry—I know that makes me sound heartless. But I've worked so hard to get to where I am. I can't just put everything on the line . . . for whatever this might turn out to be.”

I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, frustrated beyond belief. I wanted to be angry with her—for putting
her career over me—but how could I be that selfish? Her passion for her career was one of the things I loved most about her. How could I ask her to give that up for me?

“Fine,” I said. “Then I will.”

“What?”

“You're right. You love your career. And I'd never want to be responsible for putting it in jeopardy. So fine. You work at News 9. And I'll quit.”

“But, Asher, you can't!”

“Maybe I can.”

“But your mother . . .”

“Will have to deal,” I declared. “Come on, Piper. What do you say? Will you take a chance on me? Will you let me prove myself to you?”

For a moment she said nothing and the silence stretched out long and hard between us. I tried not to fidget, not to speak. Wanting to give her a chance to think about it, even though I was desperate for an answer. One thing was for certain—the next thing that came out of her mouth would have the power to change my life forever.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she looked up, meeting my eyes with her own. Her expression told me her answer before the words could escape her mouth, and it made my heart soar.

“Oh, Asher,” she said with a small smile. “Do you always get your way?”

W
e barely made it back to Asher's place and when we did we fell straight onto the bed. Him covering me with kisses. Me digging my hands into his hair. I still didn't know what the hell I was doing. But somehow I knew I had to do it anyway.

Because Asher. Oh, Asher.

All my life I had played it safe. Kept others at arm's length. Knowing in the back of my head that if I never trusted anyone to begin with then no one could let me down. And it had worked. At least to an extent. My mind had kept me safe. But it also kept me from being happy.

Asher was a risk. Yes. But life was filled with risks and if you didn't take any, you would always remain stuck in the same place. I thought back to that moment on the boat. When he pulled me under the deck and kissed away all my fears. I had emerged from that voyage a stronger person, a better person, and Asher had been a big part of that. Now he was asking me to take it one step further. To put all my bets on the table.

I might lose everything.

But I might just win the jackpot.

He pressed his lips against mine, his kiss hungry and urgent as his hand raked up the side of my body. He was trying to be gentle, trying to be slow, but it was sort of killing him, I could tell. And so I reached down between us, where I could feel his arousal, pressing against my belly. I took him in my hand through his pants and wrapped my fingers around him. He jerked, an involuntarily gasp whooshing through his lips. His fingers gripped my arms tight.

I smiled against his mouth. “My turn. And this time I'm not taking no for an answer.”

“Don't worry,” he managed to say. “I'm not up for launching much of a resistance.”

My hands found the waistband of his pants and those damn boxer briefs and I pushed them both down over his thighs. He helped by kicking them off his ankles, stripping himself bare in front of me. I gripped him with one hand, the other resting at his waist. Then I dropped my head down, slipping him into my mouth, taking in his entire length. He groaned and his fingers dug into my hair. A feeling of power surged through me. He was putty in my hands. And I liked that. Asher Anderson, who so many women had tried to tame. But I was the one who had done it.

My mouth slid up and down his shaft, trying to find my rhythm. He was so hard, yet so smooth, his skin like silk sliding in and out of my mouth. When I swirled my tongue along the tip, his whole body stiffened. He grabbed me by the shoulders.

“You gotta stop, sweetheart,” he said. “Give a guy a fighting chance at least.”

Smiling, I pulled off of him. He grabbed me, flipping me over on the bed, pulling down my pants, and yanking off my shirt until I was just in my bra and panties. Then he deftly relieved me of those as well, until I was lying before him, completely naked. Completely vulnerable.

Yet I didn't feel vulnerable somehow. Not when I could see the adoration in his eyes as his gaze raked over me from head to toe. No, I didn't feel naked at all. I just felt beautiful.
Asher thought I was beautiful, and for once I didn't want to argue the fact.

He reached down, circling my breasts in his hands then lowering himself to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking it into a diamond-hard peak while tracing lazy circles along the outer areola of the other breast. I gasped, gripping the sheet in my hands, squirming against him, desperate to relieve the pressure that was building up inside of me like an inferno. But Asher didn't allow me any relief, dropping his hand to my thigh, preventing me from grinding against him. His tongue flicked at my nipple and I stifled a scream of frustration mixed with joy.

He lowered his head, skimming my stomach with kisses, still stroking my inner thigh. Lower and lower until his mouth reached his hand and he licked and nipped at the sensitive skin. I practically yelped from the sensations coursing through me. God, I wanted this man. Like I'd never wanted anyone—or anything—before.

Without warning, he pulled away, looking up at me with sparkling eyes. “There's still time to play it safe,” he teased. “I could get up and walk away.”

“Don't you fucking dare.”

He laughed, dropping his head back down between my legs. This time abandoning my thighs to slip his tongue between my folds. I held my breath, taking in the sensations of his mouth moving against me, exquisite torture rioting through my entire body.

“I want you inside me,” I found myself begging. “Please.”

He lifted his head and the sudden break in connection felt like a lost limb. But he was only crawling over to the nightstand to pull out a condom. I watched, practically panting as he ripped it open and carefully put it on. Then he turned back to me.

“I have wanted to do this since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he said. “But I am so glad you made me wait.”

He climbed over me, spreading my legs to him, his thighs pressing against my own, opening me up, exposing me totally. Then he grabbed his cock in his hand and positioned
it against my core. For a moment, he didn't push in. Just stayed there and I swallowed heavily at the feel of him pressing against my entrance, his hands clamped against my hips, holding me in place. Then, with one fluid movement, he pushed himself inside of me and at last we became one. Flesh against flesh. Man against woman.

“God, you feel even better than I imagined,” he groaned against me, dropping down to find my mouth with his own, his tongue prying apart my lips and giving me a deep kiss. I kissed him back, feeling the shock waves of ecstasy pulse through me with every stroke, and my hips began to thrust in response, unable to let him do all the work. Together we found a tempo that worked for both of us, binding our bodies together. Push and pull, but never losing that connection. I wrapped my legs around his back, hooking my ankles together, and he groaned in approval, pushing himself even deeper inside of me. He dropped his head down to my breast, sucking in a nipple, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to register all the different sparks of electricity that were dancing through me.

“No,” he said suddenly, bringing me back to the present. A hand to my face. I realized he'd stopped thrusting. “Don't close your eyes, Red. Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.”

And so I forced my eyes back open, meeting his own. It was weirdly intimate, just staring into one another's eyes, and for a moment I almost forgot what was taking place lower down. But I couldn't forget for long as the fire burned deep inside of me, building and building until it reached a crescendo. Ecstasy throbbed through me and I pushed against him over and over, riding the wave to shore. Through it all, he kept my gaze, never wavering, always looking, something deep and important in those eyes.

And suddenly I was so fucking glad I'd taken a chance. No matter what happened after today, after this. It was worth it. This was worth it all.

He came a few moments later, collapsing on top of me when he had finished, his breath hard and ragged in my ears. For a
moment, we both just lay there, tangled in an embrace, and it felt so damn good to keep the connection a little longer between us. Eventually he slid off of me, discarding the condom before crawling back into bed. I snuggled up against him, my head lodged in the nook between his shoulder and his chest. He reached up, stroking my hair, while his other hand dropped down to cup my ass, keeping me pressed against him.

“It's funny,” he said. “Usually after sex I'm ready to bolt for the door. But right now, I can't imagine getting out of bed.” He grinned wickedly. “Or letting you get out of bed for that matter. Can we just stay here forever?”

I chuckled against him. “Well, we do have to work tomorrow,” I said.

He lifted his head in surprise. “But I'm quitting, remember?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly against his chest. “No way. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but you asked me to trust you, right? If you truly believe we can be coworkers—and a couple, too—well, that's what I think we should do.”

“Aw,” he said, putting on a teasing pout. “And here I thought I was getting a girlfriend
and
a free pass to go surfing every day.”

“Nice try,” I said. “But you're not getting off the hook that easily. I expect my boyfriend at work tomorrow and I expect him to be on time.”

“That shouldn't be a problem,” he replied. “As long as you're here to wake me up.”

I
'd love to say we showed up to work the next morning completely well rested, but that would be a lie. In fact we'd barely gotten any sleep, too busy exploring each other's bodies while exploring each other's minds. In fact, it felt like only a brief second that we closed our eyes before the sun peeked through my windows, demanding we face the day. I was pretty sure, when I saw Piper's face, I could easily convince her to call in sick. To spend the day in bed with me. But I had promised her our relationship would not interfere with her job, so I resisted leading her into temptation.

Somehow we got up, we got dressed, we grabbed breakfast on the way and then headed into work. Separate cars, but definitely together. I wondered, as we walked through the newsroom, if people could tell something had changed between us. No longer just meteorologist and producer, but something so much more.

Things continued in this vein for the next few weeks. With us working together, going home together, maybe working some more at night. I'd never worked so much in my life—the upcoming launch of the surf school taking up
almost all of my free time. But I didn't mind: There was something so satisfying in seeing it come together. Especially the night we gave Toby a tour—and she grudgingly relented into letting her kids participate in the launch. That was pure victory. The school had become this larger-than-life thing that I had built with my bare hands—with sheer force of will. Okay, sure, it had been funded by my family's accounts, but at the end of the day it was still mine. The first thing I could ever truly say that about.

I still didn't love working at News 9. But it was a minor sacrifice to get to spend the day with Piper. Also, it served to keep my mother off my back and ensured she didn't balk at my extracurricular activities.

“So Beth had a good idea today,” Piper told me Friday night as we sat on the floor of the surf shop, waxing the new boards.

“Oh, yeah? What's that?”

“What do you think about her doing a feature on the surf school? You know, like an opening day kind of thing? We could invite some of the kids down from the Holloway House and get video of them checking out the school for the first time.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “That's a great idea. Maybe the publicity would get us some attention from other local businesses as well. We could always use more donations. And I'm sure my mother would love it. A great PR moment—News 9's golden son, giving back to the community. She loves that kind of shit.”

“Not as much as I love
you
,” Piper declared, abandoning her board and crawling over to me. She slipped into my lap and curled her hand around my neck. “You know,” she said, a teasing look in her eyes, “we haven't officially christened this place yet . . .”

“That's true actually,” I agreed, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “Maybe we should . . .” I moved to her jawline. “Get that . . .” Her neck. “Over with—”

Her cell phone broke into song. I groaned.

“Ignore that. Please.”

She gave me a rueful look, then pulled the phone from her pocket. Her playful expression faded as her eyes caught the caller ID and she pressed answer.

“Hello? . . . Yes. This is Piper Strong.”

I cocked my head in question. She held out a finger to tell me to wait. Her expression was ashen and my heart stirred with worry.

“Okay. Yes. I understand. Thank you for letting me know.” She hung up the phone.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My mother,” she said in a dull voice. “She checked herself out of Safe Harbor this afternoon.”

“But she still had a week left I thought!”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, Piper . . .”

I watched as she rose to her feet, wobbling a little on unsteady legs. “I thought she was doing so well . . .” she moaned. “She was so close to finishing . . .”

I leapt to my feet, pulling her into my arms. She laid her head against my chest and I could feel her small sobs ratcheting against me. “Do you know where she would go?”

“Hopefully her new apartment. But a better guess would be David's. He's her boyfriend. And, well, her . . . supplier.”

“Let's go get her,” I said. “I'll pull Fiona around. You lock up.”

“No.” To my surprise, she shook her head.

“No?”

She gave me an apologetic look. “I mean, I appreciate you offering. I really do. But this is something I need to do myself. She and I have a lot to discuss, as you know.”

I wanted to argue. I didn't want her to leave—to have to face her mother, and maybe this drug dealer guy David, alone. But the look in her eyes told me I needed to let her go.

“Okay,” I said, kissing her on each cheek. “I understand. But call me if you need me, okay? Or if you feel unsafe? I'll have my phone on me. I can meet you anywhere. Anytime. Just call.”

“I will.” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with gratitude mixed with worry and sadness. “I appreciate that. And I'm sorry—I didn't mean to ruin our night.”

“We have a thousand nights in front of us,” I assured her. “A million nights. Just go and do what you need to do. Make sure your mother's safe. I'll be here when you get back.”

We embraced and she pulled away, giving me one last rueful smile before heading out the door. I watched her go, my heart wrenching in my chest, wishing there was something I could do for her. For her mother. But I knew better than anyone that you couldn't help someone who wasn't ready for that help. I just hoped Piper understood that now, as well. I couldn't bear to see the look on her face when her mother disappointed her, all over again.

I settled down to finish the board I was working on, but my mind was no longer on the task and I eventually put it away. Maybe I'd go grab some tacos from the nearby takeout Mexican place for dinner. I could get a few extra, too, in case Piper was able to get back at a reasonable hour. And then maybe we could—

A knock sounded at the door. I frowned. Was it Piper? Had she forgotten something? But no, she had a key. I rose to my feet, brushing myself off. “Just a minute,” I said, walking into the front room and peering through the window to see who was on the other side. It took me only a moment to recognize my visitor.

My mother.

Shit. I let out a heavy breath as I watched her, her eyes darting around the really-not-that-seedy neighborhood with great unease. For a moment I considered pretending that I wasn't here, but she called my bluff before I could make it.

“I know you're in there,” she called through the door. “I saw that thing you call a car down the street.”

Stifling a groan, I pulled the door open and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “Well, this is a surprise,” I declared as she walked in, watching her glance around the room with a pinched nose.

“Oh, I just figured I'd come down to see what all my money was going toward these days,” she replied, her eyes roving over the surf posters we'd hung on the walls. Then she turned to me. “How . . . fun!” she pronounced in a voice that made it clear she thought it was anything but. “And . . . so . . . colorful, too!”

“Thank you,” I said, not taking the bait. “We've been working hard. Looks like, depending on the insurance and such, we should be ready to open sometime next week.”

“How wonderful,” she declared. “Just wonderful.” She walked over to the counter and ran her hand along the side, before turning back to me. “And what are your plans for the grand opening?”

I shrugged. “Beth suggested News 9 do a feature on it, if that's okay with you.”

“Oh, definitely. We'll definitely do that. But we should think bigger, too. This is such a marvelous gift to the community, I'm sure all the stations and the newspapers, too, are going to want to cover the opening.”

“You think?” I looked at her warily.

“Oh, definitely!” she declared. “In fact, you should hold a huge press conference on opening day. You can invite all the poor children from that home to come and introduce them to the media. They would eat it up, I'm sure!”

I considered this for a moment. Oddly, considering the source, this actually sounded like a great idea. “It'd take a lot of organizing to get everyone here, though,” I reminded her. “And we're stretching things pretty thin between Piper and me already.”

“Oh, leave that part to me,” my mother said, waving a hand. “Publicity is my specialty.”

“Really? You want to help?”

“Of course, sweetheart! Whatever I can do! Why, I want all of San Diego to know about this wonderful new Anderson/Martin philanthropic venture.”

Wait, what?

“Um,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her, warning bells
going off in my head. “Did you just say Anderson/ Martin? What do the Martins have to do with any of this?”

My mother's smile dipped to a frown. “Come on, Asher. Who do you think paid for all of this?”

Oh God. “I thought . . . we did.”

“Well, we did. With money we acquired from Martin Enterprises in exchange for ad time on News 9.” She shrugged. “In fact, if it weren't for Sarah and her father's extreme generosity and philanthropic spirit, we absolutely wouldn't have been able to get any of this off the ground.” She gave me a saccharine sweet smile.

I stared at her, my stomach roiling with nausea. I couldn't even speak. Suddenly all the puzzle pieces were sliding into place, and it was making a pretty ugly picture. I should have known my mother had something up her sleeve when she'd been so willing to hand over the start-up capital. But I had no idea she would have gone this far.

“Come on, Asher,” she said, now giving me a disgusted look. “Where did you think the money came from? A tree?”

“No. But . . .” I didn't know what to say. Half of me wanted to spit in her face. Tell her to take the Martins' money and stuff it up her ass. But how could I? If I did, the school would never be able to open. Which, of course, was what she was counting on when working this clever trap in the first place.

I thought back to Toby's skeptical face. She was betting on me failing. Walking away when things got tough. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let her think she was right about me.

It's not a big deal
, I tried to tell myself.
So they've put money in. So what? It doesn't affect what you're trying to do here. You're still going to get to help the kids. That's all that matters in the end.

“Anyway, back to the press conference,” she said. “We'll invite all the press from all of San Diego and you and Sarah can answer all their questions about the school.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“Absolutely not,” I declared. “Sarah has nothing to do with this.”

“Her family paid for it!” my mother reminded me, her voice rising. “You would not have a school without her!”

I squeezed my hands into fists, anger rioting through me. How stupid I'd been! To not have realized she was playing me from the start. Just like she'd played me my entire life. To her, I was still that trained monkey—and she wanted a show.

“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “Sarah can stand up with us, too. It'll be the three of us. But I'm not leaving Piper out. This wouldn't even be happening without her—she deserves some credit.”

My mother's eyes narrowed. She'd been amused before. Now she was pissed. “Look, Asher. I'm not going to lie. After you caused that scene at the country club, I hired a private investigator to look in on this girl. Did you know her mother has been in and out of jail on drug charges and prostitution for the last twenty years?”

“So what? Piper is not her mother.”

“Trash begets trash, Asher, and it's time you learned that. I've overlooked your indiscretions in the past. I understand a young man must sow his wild oats. But you're twenty-nine years old now. The time for play is over. You are my only son and you stand to inherit News 9 someday. It's time you start taking that seriously. And that means not dragging our family's lifework through the mud.

“Without Sarah's family News 9 will not survive. And everything I've worked for will have been for nothing. You need to stop thinking about your dick for once in your life and start thinking of the good of this family.”

Fury exploded within me. “Just like you did, right, Mother?” I snarled.

Her hand shot out, connecting with my face before I could even identify the movement. As I reached up to touch my stinging cheek, her steely gray eyes set on me. “I did what I had to do to keep this station on the air,” she growled. “Now it's your turn.”

I watched as she walked to the door, yanking it open. Before stepping out, she turned back to me, her face twisting into an ugly smile. “I know you'll make the right choice, sweetheart,” she said. “After all, you don't want to upset your father, now do you?”

And with that, she strutted out the door, knowing she'd won, yet again.