Page 49 of Pretty Poison
“Of course not. Sometimes defiance is the spice of life,” she replied, waggling her brows. “Other times, I trick him into thinking my rebellion was his idea all along.”
Laughing, Rocky said, “We’re really not that hard to trick.”
“Nope,” she agreed. “Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight.”
Rocky considered working a little longer because his commute was short. It wouldn’t take an hour to get home, and Rocky didn’t want to look too eager. He could work on his investigations a bit longer or even stop by Grant Duncan’s house to see if he was home. Then he remembered the Snickerdoodle fiasco and nixed the idea. It was too soon.
Home it was. Rocky powered down his computer and packed some things into his messenger bag to work on later. He couldn’t see himself hanging out with Asher in the living room all night. Work would be the best kind of distraction.
During his commute, his favorite Mazzy Star song came on the radio. Damn, the feelings “Fade into You” evoked were dangerous. It was the song he’d been listening to when Asher knocked on his door hours after the bust that had brought them together. The bluesy, sexy melody was the perfect soundtrack for touching, kissing, and melding bodies together. It became their anthem of sorts because they just faded into one another, sharing breaths, kisses, and eventually their lives. One minute, Rocky was a single man who thought he was living his best life in Vegas, and the next, he learned how wrong he’d been. Loving Asher was the best part of his life.
A car horn blared, interrupting his travel down memory lane. Rocky realized the red light had turned green, and the people behind him didn’t care that he was drowning in his feels. He accelerated through the intersection and changed the radio station. The song was the last thing he needed to hear.
“What the fuck?” Rocky asked when his house came into view a few minutes later, and he saw a beat-up, rusted car in his driveway.
Rocky parked beside it and went inside. Blues rock was a passion they both shared, so Rocky wasn’t surprised Asher had chosen to play one of his Stevie Ray Vaughan albums while he cooked. The sultry beat seduced Rocky’s senses just as much as the smells emanating from the kitchen.
He’d never had corned beef and cabbage together before meeting Asher, and he hadn’t eaten the combo since returning to Savannah.
“Is that you, Ford?”
“No, it’s the ghost of husbands past.”
Asher poked his head out of the kitchen. “Really? I don’t have an ex-husband, nor do I have a future husband. Just the present one.” When Rocky didn’t reply, Asher narrowed his eyes. “No witty comeback?”
“I’m trying, but all I can think about is food.”
Asher smiled wolfishly. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. I’m just waiting for the skillet to get hot enough to fry the boxty.”
He ducked back into the kitchen, leaving Rocky to hang out in the living room by himself or follow Asher. How many more opportunities would he get to watch his husband in action? He went into the kitchen where Asher was plopping scoops of boxty into a greased cast-iron skillet. Rocky had never heard of the Irish potato pancakes until Asher had prepared them for him. Talk about fantastic hangover food.
“Remind me to take a picture when everything is ready. My seanmháthair loves when I make her recipes.”
Rocky loved the brogue that crept into Asher’s voice whenever he spoke Celtic words. He pulled a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. He wanted to hold the cold glass against his heated skin but twisted off the cap and tossed it in the trash instead. After a long drink, Rocky asked, “Do you want to eat inside or out?”
“Will Cal fire up that obnoxious mower again?” Asher asked.
“Not until tomorrow.”
Asher nodded as he transferred the boxty to a plate. “Out on the deck.” He plopped four more dollops of batter into the skillet to make another round of potato pancakes.
“Speaking of outside, why is that monstrosity parked in front of my house?”
Asher laughed. “Lady Luck isn’t a monstrosity. She’s a Lincoln Continental and would’ve been a real showstopper back in her day.”
Rocky snorted. “About what era would that have been? Pretty sure her luck ran out a long time ago.”
“Mideighties. Lady might look rough, but she runs really well.” Asher flipped the boxty over to cook to the other side.
“What are you doing with Lady Luck?”
Asher smirked. “She was the only car available in the asset forfeiture lot.”
“So, you’re the one whose luck ran out.”
Asher backed Rocky up against the cabinet, not stopping until their bodies were flush. Then he placed his hands on the counter, bracketing Rocky in place. Asher looked at him with the hungry determination of an apex predator. Rocky was the prey, but it wasn’t fear pumping through his body. Lust was the devil riding him hard and whispering dirty things in his ears.