Page 31 of For Better or Hearse
She sighs up at the bright blue sky. Fucking great.
No one wants her here except Augustus. Loneliness settleslike a lead weight in her stomach. In her legs. Sure, his family is exhausting and pretentious, but she’ll gladly suffer through it for him. Not only is it her job, but she loves Augustus.
She can do this.
She takes a long, long breath, imagining Tessie’s voice in her ear.Observe. Do not absorb.
But that’s exactly what she’s doing. Absorbing every barb, every glare from Nathaniel Whitford and his big, dumb, handsome, stupid face.
There’s no way this trip could get any worse.
“This is incredibly, most definitely, worse.”
The sound of Ash’s smoky voice sets Nathaniel on edge.
Together, the two of them stare up at the chalkboard sign on the beach that proclaims: Get Fishy With It Snorkel.
The name is ridiculous.
He crosses his arms. Lifts a brow at the woman beside him. “What’s wrong? Can’t swim?”
The second he asks it, he internally groans. Why is it he can’t go more than thirty minutes without getting drawn into a conversation with her? He’s curious about her, even if he doesn’t want to be.
She’s mean and chaotic and an infinite pain in his ass.
“Oh, I can swim.” She pulls her phone out of her woven beach bag. “I just prefer to bob on the water with a beer as opposed to sleeping with the fishes.”
“Swimming.”
She cocks a brow. “That’s what you think.”
An instructor steps up, dropping mesh bags full of snorkel gear on the sand. On his other side, his mother and Tate. Both look more interested in the buckets of chum than the snorkel instructions. His father went back to the hotel, while Augustus rests in a chair on the beach. Through the entire lecture, Ash taps on her phone.
When they’re finished, he tilts closer to her. “Did you get all that?”
The slice of her eyebrow arch could cut. “Ugh, deciding to talk to you was the mistake of my life.”
With that, Ash stalks away from him. Cold shoulder at the ready.
A muscle jerks in Nathaniel’s jaw. She doesn’t want to talk to him. Fine. It’s not his fault she’s chaos waiting to happen.
Yes, he’d protected her fingers when she was wielding that machete. The possibility of her hacking her fucking arm off had his heart gearing up for a widowmaker. But that doesn’t mean he likes Ash Keller. He just prefers this vacation to have as little drama as possible.
Ahead, she slips her shorts off. The move has his body locking up. He can’t help it. His attention is set on her tattooed thighs. Fuck. The one-piece black swimsuit she wears should be modest and boring. Instead, it clings to her lush curves, her soft breasts. Turns him into a teenager all over again.
And he’s not the only asshole watching her. Every single man on the beach—except for Augustus—stares.
Brazen fucks.
Shaking his head, he looks away, toward the water. He could use an ice-cold dousing right now.
Curses drift on the breeze.
Nathaniel focuses on Ash again.
Irritation, amusement prickle him as he watches her upturn the bag of gear. She’s like a cat, slowly nudging an object to see what it’s all about. Flippers, goggles, life jackets. Gingerly, she picks up a life jacket. Anchors it around her waist.
He sighs, needles his brow. It’s upside down.