Page 24
“Exactly,” she says before sipping on her apple juice.
“And once you’re established, you’ll quit all those jobs and concentrate on this alone?” I push because I hate the idea of how hard she works. She works even harder than I thought since she must narrate these books at odd hours of the night.
“That’s the plan.”
There’s one thing I don’t understand. Why has she kept this a secret? And I know it must be a secret because if anyone else in town knew about it, everyone in town would know. Discretion is not a virtue in Winter Falls, but nosiness is.
“You haven’t told anyone about this career path, have you?”
“Yes, I have. Juniper knows. Why do you think she packed my computer and my microphone and all my other gear?”
“But no one else knows.” It’s a statement, not a question. There’s no way anyone else knows or I’d have heard about this business by now.
She shrugs and averts her gaze.
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I rear back when an idea hits me. “You’re not embarrassed, are you? You do remember you live in Winter Falls.”
I can’t imagine why she’d be embarrassed. No one in this town shies away from discussing sex. Hell, her mom shoved a condom in my back packet when I was carrying Ash out of her home the day she broke her ankle. A condom I gave away to keep temptation at bay. Although, when it comes to Ash, temptation is never far away.
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Of course, I’m not embarrassed. I love what I do and I’m good at it, too. I want my business to make a decent wage before I tell everyone is all.”
She’s lying or at least not telling the whole truth. I don’t know why. Ash isn’t the type of woman to lie or shy away from the truth. Something’s going on inside her head and I want to know what, but when I study her, I notice she’s fiddling with the napkin on her breakfast tray.
I decide to let her off the hook. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable in my home. Besides, all this talk of her narrating erotica is not good for my blood circulation.
“Let’s talk about a more important topic.” Her eyebrow wings up in question. “How do you not have a hangover this morning? I saw how many tequila shots you drank last night.”
Her body relaxes, and I realize I made the right choice. She deserves to be comfortable in her own home. Despite how temporary the situation is. And no matter how much I might wish it could be otherwise.
