7. Asher

7

ASHER

“ T hanks again. Next time you can take her for the night, she’s yours.” I help Kennedy and Briar into the car. Between my niece’s backpack, her new bracelet making kit, and the extras we picked up at the grocery store, they needed a hand. When I texted my sister earlier this afternoon offering for Briar to spend the night, she never got back to me. It’s a good thing I didn’t so much as peep a word to my niece, or a full-blown meltdown might have occurred. Kenny texted me as she got out of work, later than she hoped, saying they had a field trip tomorrow and she took the day off to chaperone.

“Never a problem hanging out with my girl. She’ll probably fall asleep on the ride home.” After her snack, homework, and then making five bracelets in the span of thirty minutes, Briar darted off to the spare bedroom she calls hers. She yelled through the house that it was time to swim. I meandered to my room, put my suit on, and then waited for her to make an appearance. I wouldn’t call what we did swimming; it’s more or less me throwing her in the water, Briar swimming back to me and demanding I do it again.

“You won’t find me complaining. Homework is done?” Kenny asks.

“Yes, I got off easy. Reading,” I reply.

“Ugh, lucky duck. That means the day after tomorrow will be spelling words and math.” She plops Briar in her booster seat and watches as she buckles herself in, like we all do. I open the driver’s side door and then wait to close it until Kenny is situated and starts the car.

“I’m gonna take it as a win in my book. Text me when you’re home, preferably inside the house and not once you’re parked.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yes, Dad.” I can’t help that she lives in an apartment building where people are coming and going all hours of the night. Even if she were to live in a house, I’d tell her the same damn thing.

“Love you, brat.”

“Love you, too, Ash.”

“I love you more!” comes from the backseat.

“Love you, pipsqueak. Have fun tomorrow.” When Kennedy texts me when she’s home, I’ll ask if Briar needs some money for a souvenir tomorrow. She’ll probably say no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

I close the door and watch as they back out of the driveway. Once all I can see is taillights, my gaze moves over to Lennon’s. There’s no extra vehicle parked along the curb or in the driveway. I’m debating back and forth in my mind whether I should head to her place and let her know who I am when my feet start moving before my fucking head gets with the program.

The sun is slowly starting to set when I take the steps two at a time up her front porch. I stop for a moment and look around, noticing everything she’s accomplished in such a short amount of time. The yard looks better than when the company was doing it. They did the bare essentials—mow, weed-eat, and blatantly forgot about edging. All of that is taken care of and the flower beds are no longer weed factories. There’s furniture on the porch, an area rug, and a couple of pots with flowers. This woman has been hustling.

My thumb hits the doorbell, then I place my hands in my pockets. I rock back on my heels. Since Briar isn’t hanging out with me tonight, I figure I’ll head over to Jagger’s to shoot the shit and let him know what’s going on at the Randalls in person. After our pool adventures, Briar was starving. She took a quick bath to wash off the chlorine, and then, while she was eating, watched TV in my bedroom, the door open so I could listen for any choking or her moving around where she shouldn’t go, like the back fucking door to the pool. Which reminds me; I need to replace the batteries on the chime. It officially took a shit, and I had none on hand to replace them. While I’d pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, Briar grabbed a pair of jammies and settled in for the night.

“Coming!” Lennon’s says through the door, that one word coming out more muffled than she probably realizes. I don’t respond. She probably wouldn’t hear me anyway. I look around the porch once again, noticing the paint fading in some areas and flaking in others. I’m not sure what all Lennon plans to do with Estelle’s place now that she’s moved in. It might be a short-term deal, or maybe she’s in it for the long haul.

“Just a minute,” she says. I hear the turn of the lock. Good fucking girl. “Did you forget something?” Lennon opens the door abruptly, and I come face to face with the woman who has my cock in a constant state of hardness. The kicker, the one that has me ready to lose my ever-loving mind…

She’s in nothing but a towel.

Her hair is soaking wet, water droplets coat her smooth milky skin, and the one that’s tempting the most is sliding between the cleavage of her breasts.

“Oh shit, you’re not the Johnsons.” I watch as she tightens her hold on the dark green towel.

“Nope, can’t say that I am. My name’s Ash, and I live next door.” I hold my hand out, offering to shake hers, when what I really want to do is back her up to the first available wall, couch, table, or mattress. I’d take any of the options at this point. I take in every single thing I can. She licks her lips, moistening them, and my eyes watch the entire scene play like a film before me. There’s a small freckle above her upper lip, lips that are a dark pink and only turn darker when the moisture is left in her tongue’s wake.

“Sorry about this. I thought you were someone else. I’m Lennon, or Lennie.” Her small hand slides inside mine. Yeah, staying away from her is going to be impossible. What I don’t expect to see behind her smile is a look in her eyes, one I can’t quite decipher.

“Not a problem. I’m Asher Fontaine.” I reluctantly pull my hand away, dropping it back into my pocket. I fear if I don’t, I’ll do something reckless. Like pull her into me or loosen the towel and watch it drop to the floor while I look my fill.

“It’s nice to meet you. I promise I don’t usually answer the door this way, and I hope not to make it a habit for the rest of the neighborhood,” she jokes. The older men wouldn’t mind; their wives might, though.

“They might enjoy it a little too much. Anyways, I’ll let you get back to it.” The last thing I want to do is leave, but I’m not going to be a dick and keep her standing in a towel with wet hair, along with the air conditioning I’m sure is running non-stop like mine does.

“It was nice meeting you.” The hand not holding the towel goes to the edge of the door, and she uses it to lean against. “Oh, a quick question. Did you know my Aunt Estelle?” There’s hopefulness in her tone.

“Yeah, Lennon, I did.” I quirk an eyebrow, wondering how deep she wants this to go.

“Do you think we could talk about her sometime? I don’t want to bore you to tears about my upbringing, but I had no idea my sister and I had an aunt and, well, she helped me, more than she’ll ever know. I’d have survived because we Sinclair sisters always do, but…” Lennon takes a moment. “Well, shit, I’m doing it again. Anyways, she helped me get back on my feet after a divorce, so I owe her a lot. The least I can do is learn about what I’m sure was an amazing person.”

“Anytime you wanna talk, my door is always open. The next time I see you, I’ll give you my phone number. Russell, who I’m assuming is a family friend?” I ask.

“Yes, adopted via my sister. The Johnsons mainly adopted her soon-to-be husband, but yes, more family than friends. They’ve been helping me get this place back in order,” she offers a look into her life.

“He mentioned they’d be here a few more days before heading back home. You need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?” Lennon’s eyes scan down the length of my body. I see her legs from beneath her towel inch closer to one another. Jesus, fuck. My imagination runs wild. Is she doing that to help an ache building inside her, or is she trying to find warmth?

“I will, thank you again. Oh, and, Asher?” I’m starting to head back to my place when she says my name.

“Yeah, Lennon?”

“Your little girl is beautiful.” It takes a me a minute to realize she’s talking about Briar.

“Thanks. Briar is my niece. You’ll probably see and hear her from time to time.” Her chest rises and falls. I wonder if that’s from a sense of relief or what.

“You’re welcome, and thank you again.”

“Never a problem. See you around.” This time when I turn around, I do it slowly, waiting to hear her door shut and the turn to lock, only then do I head back to my place. My new neighbor has got me all fucked up, and I’m finding I like it, a whole hell of a lot.