He’d just wanted the old bastard to sleep, so he could look for another stash in the house. Aiden had taken as much as he dared from the two places he’d already found. He knew there had to be other hiding spots.
But he’d gotten careless, and James saw him crushing a sleeping pill into his water. He’d confronted him about it. Wanted to know what the hell he was doing. Aiden had no choice but to admit to putting drugs in his water, but he was pretty sure he’d done a convincing job of making James think it was because he was worried about him, since he hadn’t been sleeping well.
It was probably a good thing the bitch showed up. It gave James something else to think about other than Aiden’s motives. But now the old man was suspicious, and would be more alert than ever.
If he got fired, Aiden was screwed. He needed the money hidden in James’s house.
Since he couldn’t go back until Thursday, he’d have to figure out some other way to get money. Probably panhandle again, which sucked! But he’d do whatever it took to get enough cash for a hit. He wouldn’t be able to last until Thursday, when he may or may not be able to steal more money from the old fart.
Eighty-nine years old. Jesus, Aiden hoped he didn’t live that long. What was the point? You couldn’t walk well, couldn’t do much but sit around and watch TV and sleep. Ridiculous.
Aiden would have to get sneakier about drugging the guy so he could search his place. There was more money hidden, Aiden had no doubt. And he needed to find it. Would find it. No one was going to stop him either. Not James, not the bitch…no one.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Slate couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to Ashlyn. She was literally glowing. Usually that was a phrase reserved for the bride, but he couldn’t help applying it to Ashlyn. She had a huge smile on her face, and she looked relaxed and happy.
The day had been perfect so far. From waking up with her mouth on his cock, and fucking her hard and fast, then soft and slow while in the shower, to witnessing her compassion and delight when they’d arrived at James Mason’s house, and she saw him wearing the shirt she’d bought him.
She’d led the older man to his Trailblazer and gotten him situated in the front seat, then happily sat in the back, chattering their ears off all the way down to Waikiki. Slate had dropped them off in front of the Outrigger, where Duke’s was located, and left to park. By the time he’d arrived at the restaurant, James was seated at a table, having the time of his life chatting with Kenna, Aleck, Midas, and Lexie.
Now, Ashlyn was at the bar getting drinks, most likely a mai tai for her and beers for him and James. She was laughing with the bartenders and had her arm looped around Elodie as they waited for their order.
Mustang wandered over and stood next to Slate. “Never thought I’d say this,” he said with a small chuckle. “But I fucking love weddings.”
Slate snorted.
“Seriously, what’s not to love? Get to see my wife all dressed up, she gets tipsy, which means good things for me tonight when we get home. She’s happy as a fucking clam, and I get to spend time with my favorite people on Earth. Gonna suck when you and Midas do the deed and we run out of people to throw these shindigs for.”
“Jumping the gun a bit there, aren’t you?” Slate asked. “Not sure Midas and Lex are ready to get married anytime soon, and I’m definitely not. Besides, we could both decide to go to the courthouse and do something quick and easy.”
“True, but we could still have a big party afterward.”
Slate shook his head at his friend. “But seriously, I don’t want you to be disappointed when this thing with Ash and me cools off, and we end up just friends.”
Mustang turned and rested his shoulder against the wall where they were standing, giving Slate his full attention. “I know you’re getting sick of me bringing this up—”
“Then don’t,” Slate interrupted, but his friend ignored him.
“It’s been almost three months since you two started dating. You both keep saying over and over that it’s casual, that you’ve just got some sort of friends-with-benefits things going on, but I’m calling bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” he retorted gruffly.
“It is, Slate. Shit, you and Ashlyn danced around your attraction for each other for a whole damn year before you finally hooked up. And that is not like you. Name one other woman that you’re just friends with.”
“Elodie,” Slate said without hesitation.
“Fine, one other single woman,” his friend clarified.
Slate pressed his lips together.
“Exactly,” Mustang said, but he didn’t sound smug. “You don’t do the friend thing with women. There’s nothing wrong with that, but from the get-go, you and Ashlyn had something different. I hesitate to use the word special, because I don’t want to sound like a pussy. But seriously, you and her are not casual. I don’t know if the two of you will eventually end up walking down the aisle together or not, but I think you’re disrespecting yourself, and Ashlyn, by insisting that you’re just fucking. That you aren’t in a real relationship.”
Slate wanted to be irritated at his friend’s attempts at psychoanalyzing him. But he had too many valid points. Slate hadn’t ever been just friends with a woman. Not because he didn’t like or respect women in general, but because he simply clicked with men better.
Until Ashlyn.
She made him laugh.
She exasperated him.
Sometimes she irritated the shit out of him. Exactly like his teammates did.
He also trusted her. Hadn’t ever had a problem finding things to talk about with the woman. He enjoyed spending time with her…and not just in the bedroom. Yes, when they’d first started dating, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Every time they met up, they ended up in bed.
But their relationship had morphed into…more. They didn’t immediately jump on each other when they got together. They talked. They laughed. They even fucking cuddled on the couch watching TV. They weren’t spending every night together, but when they did have sex, they slept together at whichever house they were at. Getting up and leaving right after orgasming was the last thing he wanted to do.
He might not want to admit it out loud, but Mustang was pretty much spot on.
Slate was still just as determined as ever to not change the nature of their relationship. But now…it was because he didn’t want to fuck anything up. He didn’t want to spook Ashlyn.
“And that woman doesn’t look at you as if you’re just a friend,” Mustang continued. “Her eyes are constantly searching for you when you’re not at her side. She’s not checking out other guys, looking for better prospects, like some women do when they’re in a casual relationship. And when you guys are close, you automatically reach for each other. You touch her back. She leans into you. You hold her hand or wrap an arm around her.
“You can both protest and tell everyone who’ll listen that there’s nothing serious going on between you, but it’s all bullshit. The sooner you own up to it, the better off you’ll both be.”
“Mustang, you know I respect and love you like a brother, but you need to back off,” Slate said, feeling uncomfortable with the serious tone of the discussion.