Page 14 of For Better or Hearse
When Camellia called off the wedding, it wasn’t relief that hit him. It was a sensation more like being put out of his misery.
Still, that stubborn streak of anger runs through him. Anger at Ash. It’s not so much that she broke up the wedding. It’s that shehad the fucking gall to do so. That in the eyes of Camellia and her family, he’s been branded something he’s not. That he still doesn’t fucking know who hired Ash to cause the chaos she did.
Augustus goes on, his expression earnest. “I know you have your reservations, but I want Ash here. Her presence fills me with a great deal of warmth.”
Fuck. Begrudging his grandfather this is something he’d never do. Not when he’s been looking forward to this vacation. Not when he clearly enjoys the girl.
And yet…
He can’t stop from voicing his concern. “Grandpops, what if she’s some sort of con artist?”
A husky voice pipes up, making his stomach lurch. “Con artist?”
Ash and her cloud of hair slink around the corner. Her stare is stony as she takes a step forward.
“I may be a lot of things. Ill-reputed. Disheveled. A Scorpio. But I’m no con artist.” For a split second, she looks genuinely hurt.
Nathaniel wonders if it’s all an act. “That’s up for debate,” he argues.
His grandfather narrows his eyes on him, then turns his attention to Ash, his mind clearly spinning. Of course it is. This is the man who bought Delaney a pony on her tenth birthday, all because their father forbade pets. It’s in his blood to meddle.
Brows cinched, Augustus squeezes Ash’s arm, then Nathaniel’s. “Get along or don’t. Either way, we’re meeting for dinner at seven. I’ve booked a table at the restaurant.” He hobbles toward the bedroom, grumbling as he does so. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pop out for a minute.”
With an affectionate smile, Ash watches as Augustus departs. “That man’s red flag is if he says he’s going to ‘pop out for a minute,’ it means he’s going to take a nap.”
Nathaniel bristles. It irritates him that she knows his grandfather so well.
Ash turns to Nathaniel. She looks him up and down. Scrunches her face up in a way that could be misconstrued as adorable. “Let me guess. You unpack your suitcase the second you get home from vacation.”
“And you’re an off-putting person who likes the sight of murder.”
She crosses her arms, lets out a purr of agreement. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“I’m impressed,” he says. “You went from weddings to hearses. Times must be tough.”
She colors. “It wasn’t my finest moment, okay?” She chews her lip, then shakes her head like she’s already regretting her decision to speak to him. “Listen, Nate—”
“Nathaniel.”
“Fine.Nathaniel.” Even the way she draws out his name, in husky, honeyed, ice-cold syllables, grates on him. “I understand why you’re pissed at me, but do you think we can maybe co-exist? If not peacefully, at least not maliciously? For Augustus?”
“Of course,” he grits out, annoyance simmering in his veins. “I won’t even know you’re here.”
A relieved sigh pops out of her mouth. “Good.”
Nathaniel asks, “What did you say your last name was again?”
“I didn’t. Keller.” She digs her fingers into her biceps. “Why? Planning to do some reconnaissance?”
“I might.” He adjusts his rolled shirtsleeves. “Wouldn’t want you to screw my grandfather over.”
Gaze narrowed, she steps close to him. So close her breasts sweep against his chest. Hurt flashes in her green-gray eyes, her voice as cold as an icy wind. “I would never do that.”
“I’ll be on you,” he warns. He takes a step back. The burning touch of her lingers. “The entire trip.”
She cocks a brow. “Like a barnacle.”
“See you at dinner, Bigfoot,” he says dryly. Before he goes, he takes a second to revel in the brief flash of panic that crosses herface. God knows he could spar for hours with her, but she’s not worth it.