The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

she walked past me. Why did she have to smell so damn good? I closed the door and turned around to drink her in. Last night when I’d left her I’d gone straight to Nicole. Reminding myself who I was had been vitally important. Nicole had been very willing but my body couldn’t seem to forget how good Ashton felt curled up against me.
    “I didn’t expect you to call me,” Ashton said softly while studying the plate of biscuits in her hands. I’d had a moment of intense weakness when I’d woken up from an incredibly good dream she had starred in. All I could think about was being near her again.
    “I hated the way we left things last night.”
    She blushed and glanced up at me. “I’m really sorry about how I acted.”
    Damn, damn, damn, I wasn’t going to be able to resist her. Pushing Sawyer to the deep dark forgotten part of my mind I walked over to her and took the plate of biscuits and sat them down on the counter.
    “I told you last night, I started it. I should be the one apologizing.”
    She let out a small laugh and stared down at her feet.
    “No, I distinctly remember it being my leg that was hiked up in your lap and my hand that was up your shirt. You had completely stopped touching me. Thanks for trying to take the blame off me but I was there, Beau.”
    I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. Right now I didn’t care who she belonged to. I wanted her and I couldn’t see past my need.
    “Look at me,” I whispered, slipping my finger under her chin and tilting her face up so I could see her eyes. “The only reason I didn’t grab you and haul you onto my lap last night was because for the first time in my life I want something that belongs to the only person I love. I started touching you last night because I couldn’t keep my hands off you. I thought if I could touch you just a little bit I’d be able to handle it. But then you didn’t react the way I expected.” I stopped and closed my eyes. Staring down at her while I talked about her reaction to my touch was difficult. Those big innocent green eyes soaking in every word out of my mouth. God, she was perfect.
    “And my good intentions were fading fast. If you’d kept touching me for just a few more seconds I’d have lost it. I was hanging on by a thread. A very thin thread.”
    She stepped back out of my embrace and gave me a little grin.
    “Okay. Thank you for saying that.” She turned and walked over to the counter then began taking the plastic wrap off the biscuits. “We both love him. Neither of us want to hurt him. But . . . we’re drawn to each other. We have history. The three of us. For the past few years it’s been just me and Sawyer. I didn’t want it to be that way, it just happened. I think we can all be friends again. I want us to be. So, while he’s gone let’s just enjoy being friends. I promise to keep my hands to myself if you promise the same.”
    She peered at me over her shoulder as she moved to set the biscuits on plates she’d found in the dish rack. Telling her how I’d do anything she asked wasn’t exactly the best move. I nodded and went to get glasses and orange juice so we could eat breakfast together. Just like we used to.
    “STOP IT, BEAU!” Ashton squealed as she ran around the side of the truck away from the water hose I’d aimed her way.
    “But you’ve got soap all over your arms. I’m just trying to wash it off,” I replied. Her laughter made something inside me tighten and I forced myself not to think about it.
    “Sure you were. By soaking me. I’d prefer the soapy arms, thank you very much.”
    “Ah, come on, Ash. I was just trying to help. I promise I won’t do it again. Besides, you aren’t even wearing a white shirt. I’ve got no reason to hose you down.”
    She walked around the front of my truck cautiously. She didn’t trust me. I dropped the hose and held up both my hands. “See, I promise,” I assured her.
    She tilted her head to one side and bit her bottom lip. “Hmmm, okay.”
    I watched her slowly approach the bucket of soapy water to retrieve the sponge she’d dropped. Before I could respond she stood up and hurled a large, wet, soapy sponge at my face and squealed in delight before turning and running back to the other side of the truck.
    “You’ve asked for it now,” I yelled at her and took off around the opposite side of the truck to catch her.
    “I’m sorry,” she screamed through her laughter.
    “Too late for apologies,