Immediately distracted, Pen shouted, “Oh my gawd, let’s open that bitch!”
Ash and Bobby nodded at each other. Bobby busted Ash’s chops constantly, but he was a good wingman. Bobby knew right away that Ash didn’t want this snow queen knowing all his embarrassing stories. Not tonight, anyway.
As Bobby and Pen disappeared to share the bottle with the rest of the gang, Rosemary goggled at him. “Tight-knit group you’ve got here. Must be nice to always have people backing you up.”
He gave her his best crooked aw-shucks grin. “It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We have room for new friends, too, even if her name is DuChamp.”
Rosemary sipped a second fruity drink and shot him a devious look. “Just one problem.”
Ash leaned in and got another whiff of her perfume, layered on top of her natural scent. He was glad he’d stopped drinking after one Old Fashioned. Not only did he intend to leave with her in his car, but alcohol put a severe damper on his ability to sniff out scents. Despite her calm demeanor, her pulse raced the closer they leaned in toward each other. His sniffer could pick up a scared rabbit hidden in the bushes just by listening for the rapid heartbeat. But this girl was no fuzzy bunny. She was just as much of an alpha as he was, and she was ready to pounce.
“And what problem would that be?” Ash asked, nearly high on the drug of her scent. He felt her in his nostrils, his lungs, all the way down on a molecular level.
“I don’t wanna be your friend,” she replied.
Ash’s face fell. “Oh. Okay.” He kept it cool. He looked down at the bar, away from her gaze.
“Ash,” she said, bending close to catch his eye.
“Yeah?” He reluctantly met her gaze once again.
“You didn’t ask me what I do want.”
He shrugged. “All right then, non-friend. What do you want?”
Rosemary could strike a man dead with that expression on her face, and that man would die happy. “I just wanna fuck someone my daddy hates.”
That caught him off-guard. Ash squinted at her skeptically but remained interested. “That’s a lot to unpack, little lady.”
She looked away, suddenly appearing vulnerable for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been a bit of a deceiver tonight. I already knew who you were when Pen brought me here. She said she was meeting with her good friend, Ashton Boudreaux. When I asked her for more details, it turns out my daddy, Lionel, hates your daddy.”
“Really?” Ash asked. He knew none of this. “But…nobody but nobody hates Jimmy Boudreaux. He’s just a good old dude with a fried chicken empire. He donates almost a third of his income to local charities every year.”
Rosemary nodded as if she already knew all of that. “Thing is, my daddy wants me to stay home like a good girl until I marry, and marry me off to some family that’ll make him even more money. So I moved out, found my own place, and hired Pen to decorate it. And it turns out, you are the son of the only rich man on the Gulf Coast who ever said no to my daddy. I find that very, very appealing.”
Rosemary brought the little red cocktail straw up close to her lips, stuck out her tongue, and slowly licked the straw from the tip on down to just below the rim. And then back up again to the tip. The entire time she did not break eye contact with Ash.
That was quite a revelation to Ash. He knew he should be a little bit offended at the idea of her wanting to use him to get back at her daddy. But damn. None of that information turned him off in the least. Certainly, none of that mattered to the caged beast inside him. Those lips, that pink tongue could use him and use him again, as far as he was concerned. He could already taste her in his mouth.
“Did Bobby get the date wrong?” he asked her.
“Excuse me, sugar?” she asked, confused.
“Well, this was supposed to be a Twelfth Night party, but all I can see in front of me is one juicy little Christmas present.”
Rosemary laughed, pulled out the straw, and tossed back her second drink. Damn. Dayum. A hot little hellcat who smells amazing, gets right to the point, wants to use you to get back at her daddy, and can hold her liquor. Marry her immediately, or you’re an idiot.
“So does that mean you’re down for it?” she asked, even though it was clear she knew the answer. Any man would be a fool to say no.
“Mamaw, gimme that heirloom diamond, ’cause I’m fixin’ to put a ring on this one,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning ear to ear.
She set the glass on the bar and locked onto his eyes one more time. “You ’bout done talking, Boudreaux? ’Cause I am ready to go.”
He nodded, stood up straight, and offered his arm to the lady.
“Good manners,” she commented. “Oh, but wait. I forgot about Pen. I’m sorry, I don’t get out much and I don’t normally pick men up in bars…”
Ash, though surprised to hear her claim inexperience — she seemed abundantly sure of what she wanted since the get-go — reassured her, “My mama didn’t raise a slouch. Bobby will make sure Pen gets home. Let’s go, Ms. DuChamp.”
Chapter Two
Ash
How was it possible that Ash was speeding along the highway in his 1969 GTO with the daughter of his father’s most hated enemy in New Orleans?
He didn’t know how these things happened, and he didn’t care to question fate.
Rosemary, the little sexpot, couldn’t even wait until they had made it to her place. She was already unzipping his
