The Substitute Stripper by Ari Thatcher Page A

better and better. “And you think they’ll be impressed that you’re with me?”
    His eyes widened and mouth went slack, as if she’d lost her mind. “Well, yeah. Have you looked in the mirror lately? Looked around the room?”
    Unable to help herself, she glanced at the other patrons and caught more than a few guys watching her. Okay, so in her little red plaid schoolgirl skirt, tight sweater and killer boots, she could turn heads. She knew that. But she was far from the most beautiful girl around. When she turned back to Ash, she caught him staring at her boobs. They swelled in acknowledgement and sent waves of warmth through her belly.
    “ So, who are the happy couple?” She toyed with her straw to have an excuse to put her arms in front of her. She knew her nipples had to be visible.
    “ Mark, the groom, went to UCSB with me, and he’s marrying the girl he met there. They dated a bit in college, went their separate ways, but met up again recently and really connected.”
    “ How sweet. And all your college buds will probably be there. The bachelor party ought to be wild.”
    He nodded. “It had better be. I’m in charge. It’s been hard to set up a party at the lodge but we’ve reserved the main room for the night and I’ve arranged for porno and a stripper.”
    “ Just add alcohol and stir.” She raised her glass in a toast before taking another sip.
    “ There’s something else I should tell you.”
    Something in his voice gave he r pause. He had a girlfriend? He’s gay? The bride was a celebrity? She hated when people used that warning tone over nothing.
    “ Mark’s sister is my ex.”
    She made a sympathetic face. “Ooh, you have to see your ex-girlfriend. That hurts.”
    “ Ex-wife.”
    She choked on the peanut she was chewing. “You were married? I didn’t know.” She didn’t know anything about him, now that she thought about it. He could be an ex-con, or president of a biker gang. As she watched the emotions working over his face, and really looked at the sweetness there, the scroungy, reddish-blond facial hair that refused to become a five-o’clock shadow no matter how many days he grew it, and the gentlest baby-blues she’d ever seen, she knew he couldn’t hide any sort of wicked past.
    “ It was brief. She wanted a CEO and I was just a guy who drew cartoons for games.”
    Her jaw dropped. “Does she know the awards you’ve gotten for those cartoons? How the gamers go on about your characters?” The woman was blind if she didn’t see the talent Ash had.
    He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happier without her. She’s happier with Pierce Henderson, the son of the CEO of Middleton Finance.”
    Bree wanted to hug him, but instead she just smiled. “Her loss.”
    “ Thanks.”
     
    A week later she rode the elevator in her apartment building with Ash carrying her suitcase. They’d left work early because of a storm heading toward the lodge. They hoped to beat it up the mountain.
    Bree had to lean back in the passenger seat with her eyes clamped shut, and trust Ash to navigate the windy roads. She hated the drop-offs, hated blind curves at night, and when you added in lightly falling snow, she needed a good stiff drink.
    “ How are you doing?” Ash reached across and squeezed her hand.
    “ I’ll be better when we get there. Although I might need another hour or two to stop shaking.”
    “ I’m sorry about the weather.”
    “ It couldn’t be helped. What’s your ex’s name?”
    “ Jillian.”
    “ Well, I hope we don’t run into Jillian until some of the green has left my complexion.”
    He laughed and w ent back to concentrating on the road. Bree opened her eyes and watched him, his face lit by the dash lights. How sad he’d ended up with a woman who couldn’t appreciate him. He was such a nice guy. In a good way. Nice, and hot and funny. She always knew when someone had stopped in his cubicle because of the laughter ringing out.
    When Ash turned the car